Page 60 of Brick Wall
“Do you come here often, then?”
“Not as much anymore.” After a beat of silence, he adds, “The first few years were a rough adjustment for me. I wasn’t expecting all the attention I would receive, and most of it wasn’t because of my skills on the field.”
I nod because I know exactly what he is talking about. Sebastian Goodick became a very well-known football player in Boston and the entire league, quickly. He became a starter in his rookie season and played most offensive snaps.
Usually, an offensive lineman doesn’t get too much attention unless they are being called out on a penalty or make a major mistake in a game.
However, Sebastian Goodick’s attention had nothing to do with his actual football skills and everything to do with his name.
When you wear GOODICK on the back of your jersey in capital letters and play a good portion of the game, you tend to get noticed. You also get a lot of jersey sales, especially from Boston fans, but also from people who wanted to wear GOODICK on their backs.
However, a few seasons later, Sebastian Goodick receivedeven more attention thanks to a social media post.
It was a picture of the GOODICK jersey and the caption from a beautiful influencer that said, “Can confirm,” with some silly emojis attached.
Sebastian’s popularity skyrocketed.
More females were posting similar sentiments on social media too, sharing their experiences with Mr. Goodick, as he was often referred to.
“I didn’t even know who most of the people that were sharing our intimate exploits were. And it’s not that I forgot them; it just didn’t happen. People were just looking for attention, and they were using me because I was trending.”
“Do you know who started the first post?” I question.
“The hyena,” he says while taking a deep breath out.
“Ah,” I say knowingly. It makes more sense now. She left him for a teammate and then started this shitstorm for him to deal with. “How kind of her.”
He grunts in response.
“I’m sorry,” I say, squeezing his hand in support. I wonder if this is why his walls are sometimes up. Does he have a hard time trusting people?
“It was a few years after we dated briefly, too. I hadn’t talked to her in years at that point. I guess she was looking for attention; well, she got it.” He takes a deep breath and continues. “I wasn’t really expecting it. It was bad timing, too, because I had some family stuff to deal with on top of all this extra attention on me. I’m okay now. I’m better at handling the attention now or ignoring it. It also helps that the joke has kind of run its course.”
“Yeah, it helps that Harry Badcock has joined the league, too,” I kid.
“True, except when we were standing next to each other.”
“Yeah, you had that goodcock badcock situation kind of happening. Made for some great jokes and memes.”
Sebastian just looks at me and doesn’t say anything, so I add, “Not that I shared any.”
“Sure,” he says, like he doesn’t believe me, which he shouldn’t. I shared so many.
The moment is silent for a minute, but then he adds, “I wish I got to pick my jersey number.”
I spin my head in his direction and look directly into his eyes. “What do you mean?”
“People assumed I’d want to be number sixty-nine. Goodick and sixty-nine. It’s common sense, right? It happened in high school, then again in college. When I got drafted to the Revs, I was relieved the number was already taken. But nope, Hodges automatically switched his number for me. I told him it wasn’t a big deal, and I’d change mine, but he insisted. I guess it was nice of him, but is it weird that I was finally looking forward to picking a number for myself?”
“That’s not weird at all. I can’t blame you for wanting to pick a number like everyone else. What would you pick?”
“You know, I don’t even know.”
Sebastian glances at his watch, and then again, like he didn’t believe his watch the first time he checked. “Shit,” he says, sounding a little frazzled. “I lost track of time. I made reservations for six.”
I pull out my phone and look at the time. It’s five fifty-four. There’s no way we’d make it anywhere in time since we still have at least a twenty-minute walk back to our car.
Sebastian pulls out his phone, stands up, and starts dialing. “Hi, yes, I made reservations at six, and I won’t makeit in time…” I hear him say, but I don’t catch the rest of his conversation. He’s walking away from me, nervously pacing while on the phone call.
