Andy had turned his talent on the football field into a degree in electronic engineering, so he knew better. He really did. And yet, it didn’t seem to matter. The minute a camera man shoved a microphone in his face he could feel it start. It was like trying to run through water. His mind slowed, and struggling against it did nothing but tire him.
He stood under the bright lights; cleats laced tight, pads shoving his shoulders up near his chin, his helmet gripped beneath his arm, sweat dripping down his face. The green field stenciled with pristine white numbers stretched behind him. He wiped his brow with the bottom of his jersey.
“And what, in your opinion, made your win possible this afternoon?” the man in a navy suit asked. He shoved the black foam microphone underneath Andy’s chin. Andy’s mind submerged.
“Uh, well, you know. The guys are all really great players, and we all have each other’s back. It’s all about cohesion and resiliency, and pushing through despite the odds.”
“The other team really had you up against a wall near the end of the second quarter, how did you rally to come back from that?”
“Uh, um… They’re a good team. They, uh, really gave us a run for our money, but at the end of the day we just wanted it more.”
Andy lay awake in bed that night, replaying the words over in his head as he stared at the white ceiling. We Just Wanted It More. What does that even mean? He yearned to be the smart kid, the electronic engineer. Still, it was times like these that he feared, no matter how hard he tried, the words Despite The Odds would come out of his mouth as soon as it had a microphone in front of it, that it was inevitable. And that this fact meant he was incapable of being anything more than a jock at all. Resiliency, he told himself, just push through.
Casey E. Hamilton 