Page 10 of Everywhere You Look

The real crowd pleaser is my Pumba impression, especially when he’s saving Timon and Zazu from the coyotes and I roar, “They call me MISTER PIG!” along with the television.

By the time Simba takes over Pride Rock, I’m the only one still awake to see the end credits roll. Lemmie and Mellie breath softly on Luke’s lap, Ollie coos against my chest, and Luke’s head is resting on my shoulder as he snoozes.

Even though I know my neck will regret it in the morning, I don’t have the heart to wake anyone up. The Cannon-McKenna clan is sleeping on the sofa tonight.

Turning off the TV, I kick my feet up onto thecoffee table and nuzzle my face into the top of Luke’s head. Inhaling in the tea tree scent of Luke’s shampoo as I listen to the sounds of my new family’s sleeping breaths, I can’t help but think that I’d go through a million more tear-and-fight filled meals and bath times if it meant getting more moments just like this one.

5

BLAST FROM THE PAST

Luke

I’m surrounded by bright lights and cameras. The buzz of electricity thrums in my bones, and my stomach twists with anticipation. I’m ready to run out on the field and fuck shit up.

Unfortunately, my body doesn’t know the difference between standing in the tunnel, waiting to play a home game at Twin Peaks Stadium and sitting behind a desk while a producer with wire-frame glasses counts down to live time on his fingers. All this pent up energy inside me is going to be wasted on a podcast, and I’ll have to burn it off on the treadmill later.

“Free agency season is upon us. It was only a few weeks ago that we were watching the PhiladelphiaBullies crush Seattle in the Big Game. Luke, it feels like the offseason never slows down.”

“You’re right about that, Reuben. In fact, calling it an offseason is almost a misnomer. The NFL is relentless in their ability to turn everything into an event and make the season last all year. As a player, you expect the game to be on your mind 24/7, but the league really wedges itself into the culture in such a way that it is always at the forefront for the fans, too. You get through free agency and then the draft rolls around. After the draft, the schedule comes out, and that’s a big to-do. Then you’ve got all eyes on OTA’s–organized team activities–and before you know it, you’re at training camp. It really is nonstop.”

I’ve only been here at the Bay Sports Broadcast Network for a few weeks, but I think I’m already finding my groove as a sports commentator. The Game Plan Podcast uploads new episodes every other day, but we record content daily.

I don’t know that it will ever feel normal to be the guy behind the desk talking about football instead of out there playing it, but I’ve had to make my peace with saying goodbye to the sport I love. When I was injured two seasons ago, I was pissed. I spent my year on the injury reserve list lashing out, resenting the new guys on the team for taking my place, and generally being a dick to anyone I came in contactwith. By the time my fate settled in and I knew I’d have to retire, I was still pissed, but I could stomach the reality of my situation. I’d have to give up football, and that would hurt. But in return, I’d be protecting my future self. The guy who wanted to be a dad who could walk without a limp, chase his kids around the house and coach their teams someday.

Then, when Gigi died, I didn’t have it in me to grieve football anymore. Not when I’ve been too busy grieving my sister.

That being said, being here in the broadcast room a few times a week, talking about football–and occasionally, baseball, hockey, and basketball–with my co-host, Reuben is already helping to fill the hole in my chest left there by the loss of my professional career. I don’t know how I’ll feel when the preseason starts and I’m in a suit and tie instead of a uniform and pads, but for now I’m happy.

Well. Happy-ish.

“So true, Luke. Now let’s talk about the Redwoods shocking decision to trade their star wide receiver to Washington,” Reuben continues, nodding for me to give my opinion. I like this back-and-forth we’ve established. Reuben tees me up, removing the pressure for me to get the conversation going.

“It was a shocking decision for sure, but I think it’s just one of many out-of-norm moves we’re goingto see under James Adler’s leadership. This is only the second time the league has a team owner who is also serving as the general manager. It hasn’t worked well for Dallas over the years, but I think Adler’s youth and passion for the people–not just the sport–is already working in the team’s favor. The decision to bring Giovanni Mancini on as the new head coach is certainly bound to shake things up for the better, as well.”

We spend the next hour discussing trades, roster changes, and changes to the coaching staff. After filming for the broadcast wraps up, Reuben and I head into another studio on the other side of the building to film another one of the Network’s podcasts—The Flea Flickers. It’s a question-and-answer style show, where sports fans can send in their thoughts and opinions to be discussed. We’re filming the segment with the two hosts of The Flea Flickers Podcast, Howie and Cam. This set is much more casual, styled like a man-cave of sorts with San Francisco sports memorabilia on the walls and large couches for us to sit in, so I’ve changed out of my suit and tie and into a pair of jeans and a Redwoods fleece quarter-zip.

I can tell right off the bat that this segment is going to be one that I look forward to. Since it’s less formal, it feels more like four dudes shooting the shit aboutsports while answering fan questions and pontificating on the outcomes of past and upcoming seasons. We film for much longer than the allotted hour, but at no point do the producers queue us to hurry or wrap up. Whatever usable content they can derive from our chatting will be edited into something digestible for the viewers before it goes live later in the week.

When we finish, Reuben, Howie, Cam and I stand around on set for a while longer while members of the production team help us remove our mic packs and break down the lighting.

“So how’s it going here so far, Cannon? You like all the chit-chat, or are you itching to suit back up already?” Howie asks. He’s a former baseball player who pitched for the San Francisco Sharks until he retired ten years ago. He’s a local legend who never pays for a beer at any bar in the Bay Area and is someone I’ve looked up to for years. When we met a few weeks ago, I had to actively try not to scream from excitement.

“It’s going well. Still getting used to being on this side of the field, but I like that I can be biased towards our Bay Area teams here. I’ve already been practicing my indifferent faces and voices for when the national broadcasts start in August,” I say with a smirk, and the guys laugh.

“Hey, if that ego-maniac from New England can name drop and favor his former team every Monday during the season, I think America can forgive you for throwing a little extra love towards the Redwoods,” Howie says with a chuckle.

“Yeah,” Cam–a former Redwoods tight end who retired during my rookie year–agrees. “It’s not like you’re officiating. As long as you’re just commenting on the calls and not making them, who cares which team you like better?”

“Uh, probably a lot of people. You’d know that if you were on social media, Cam. NFL fans are brutal online,” I tease. No matter what they say, I plan to be as neutral as possible come preseason.

My phone dings in my pocket and I fish it out, swiping the screen to find an email from my former team owner that I will be ignoring, just like the millions of others he’s sent in the last year. I go to pocket my phone when it dings again, this time showing a picture message from Dean. Lemmie and Mellie are only in part-time preschool, so Dean has been taking the girls on adventures around the city while I work. It's a high angle selfie that captures Ollie on his chest and the twins at his feet. Looks like they’re down at the wharf today. Lemmie and Mellie have pint-sized pink fishing poles at their feet, eachholding up a tiny anchovy like a prize ring and beaming toothy smiles up at the camera.

Dean

The girls caught dinner! Hope you’re hungry ;)

His message makes me laugh out loud, and I tap out a quick reply.

---