Page 85 of Necessary Roughness
Sloane living with us was like having a videogame system always connected to the TV, ready to play whenever we wanted. It was a crude metaphor. Sloane was so much more than a freaking PlayStation or Xbox. She was so much more than just a fuck-toy for us to use, even though she was fond of using that comparison.
I could feel a deep fondness for her in my chest, an awareness in my mind that always occupied some percentage of my attention. That feeling was steadily advancing, like an offensive drive in the fourth quarter. But aside from being aware of that fact, I was too busy with everything else in my life to worry about it.
As Halloween came and went, giving way to chilly November mornings, Sloane rarely slept in her own bed. She always stayed with Logan, or quietly slipped into my room and slid under the covers without saying a word. I looked forward to those nights more than anything. With ex-girlfriends, I never slept well when sharing a bed. They were always too warm, or kept me awake by snoring or shifting too much. In the past, I preferred having my own space.
Sloane was different. I got the best sleep of my life when I was with her, confirmed by my Garmin watch that tracked my sleep score.
This girl was the best thing that had ever happened to me.
By the second week in November, our team was somehow still undefeated. Nobody said it out loud, as if the concept was so fragile that simply muttering the phrase “perfect season” would scare it away. But after we cruised past St. Augustine Bay College, and then trounced Sabal Palm University, everyone was aware of what was at stake. How we had a chance to do something no prior Westview College Wildcats football team had ever done.
And with that success, I knew my odds of being selected in the first round of the NFL Draft kept increasing.
Sloane was a comforting presence, even on away games. Westview College gave away hundreds of tickets and offered free bus rides to students who wanted to travel to road games, and it imbued me with an almost supernatural strength knowing she was in the crowd, watching me play.
Our team’s success—and my personal performances on the field—drew a lot of media attention. Sports Illustrated did a piece on players from lesser-known schools who were expected to be drafted, which involved me being photographed and interviewed forthree hourson one Sunday. When the issue was released, Roman and Logan tore my photo out of the magazine and taped it to the fridge, then pretended to bow down to me whenever our paths crossed in the house.
“I think you look handsome,” was all Sloane said. “You look like a professional.”
Her words meant more to me than all the praise in the magazine piece.
At the end of November, on the Saturday after Thanksgiving, ESPN came to our campus. ESPN College GameDay was a live pregame show that traveled around the country to highlight exciting football matchups. Theyusuallyonly chose larger schools like Florida State or Miami, but our team success—and my rising stock in the NFL draft—made them choose us.
And they were interviewingmeon the show.
It made me more nervous than any regular game, or any final exam. I knew this publicity was only a taste of what I might receive in the NFL, but it gave me goosebumps all the same.
A semicircular desk was erected in the square in front of our football stadium, with hundreds of drunk, screaming WestviewCollege students packed into the background where they would be visible on camera. I was seated at the center of the desk, with Rece Davis and Kirk Herbstreit to my left, and Lee Corso and Nick Saban to my right. I was especially starstruck being within smacking distance of Saban, the legendary Alabama football coach.
“Knox Maddox,” Herbstreit was saying, “your team has a chance to not only win the conference for the first time in two decades, but to go undefeated on the season. That’s the kind of accomplishment we’ve come to expect from schools like Michigan, Alabama, and Ohio State—not a smaller college like Westview.”
Hundreds of student voices behind usshriekedin excitement the moment our school was named.
“Have you begun thinking about making history?” Nick Saban asked me.
Swallowing the excitement at having such a legendary college football figure addressingme, I gave a measured shrug. “We try not to fall into the trap of thinking ahead.” I made sure to sayweandus,rather thenmeandI. My coach said that would make me seem more humble, more likable. “Sure, we want to win the conference. Sure, we want to do the other thing you mentioned—which I don’t even want to acknowledge out loud!”
Everyone laughed.
“But all of that only happens if we win today’s game,” I said. “And next week’s game. And the game after that. So I’m focused on what Icancontrol, which is scoring touchdowns against Panhandle State University.”
The crowd behind me booed the name of our opponent.
“This kid already has the poise of a pro quarterback!” Lee Corso said, grasping my shoulder. “Now, I don’t want to get thiscrowd more riled up than it already is. But is there some lucky lady in your life? Someone who keeps you grounded?”
The crowd went nuts at this, and there was a brief commotion as a girl sitting on the shoulders of someone else flashed her tits at the camera and screamed, “I LOVE YOU KNOX!”
“Umm…” I said when the attention was back on me. “I’m not sure how to answer that.”
Rece Davis pointed at me and said, “That’s not a no!”
When everyone stopped laughing, I graciously said, “I have all the support I need in my life. And that’s all I’ll say about that.”
I smiled at the camera, and imagined Sloane was smiling back at me.
36
Sloane
