Page 161 of What are the Risks
“Damn, Ryker,” Tori whistled, her hand locked with Brady’s. “Vibin’ the suit. It’s fire.”
I feigned a sigh of relief. “The seal of approval I’d been waiting for.”
Dad, Doug and my uncle were huddled closely together, seeming starstruck by the former NFL legacies hanging around the room. These past few days, I’d met so many players I’d grown up watching, and the fact that so many of them knew my name was surreal.
No matter where my career took me, I would never forget this past week – the last few days before everything changed. I doubted it would ever stop feeling like I was living out someone else’s dream.
“This is fancy,” Mum said, dropping onto one of the plush couches and pulling Cherie beside her. “Charles, take a photo of us. I’m going to caption it, ‘My son got drafted today – what did yours do?’”
I instinctively glanced Ruby’s way, catching her gaze and rolling my eyes playfully. She mirrored my amusement, shaking her head with a subtle chuckle. Our mothers were relentless. At least they made for a great distraction.
Ruby slowly continued towards me, her expression a mixture of shock and disbelief. “How are we here already, Wheels? It feels like all those afternoons in your backyard, watching you practice your passes, were just yesterday.”
I exhaled slowly, equally as stunned. “Tell me about it.”
She started to reach for my hand, but pulled back at the last second. Maybe after spotting the many cameras around the room, or maybe to avoid our mothers’ eyes – which missed nothing – or maybe because holding hands wasn’t something we did anymore.
Even with my lifelong dream within reach, my future had never felt more uncertain. I was so fucking in love with this girl that no achievement would ever be enough without her to share it with.
She lifted her gaze to meet mine. “I wanted to say–”
An announcement came over the speaker, instructing everyone to take their seats. The broadcast was about to commence.
With a weary sigh, Ruby stepped back. “It’s all going to work out, Wheels.”
All I could manage was a nod.
As we’d been instructed earlier, I sat on the couch directly in front of the TV. Everyone else found their spots, with Mum and Dad wedging me between them. Ruby somehow ended up the furthest away, tucked at the far end of the other couch beside her parents.
Before I could get her attention, an instant hush fell over the busy room as all the televisions began screening the broadcast. I recognised the stage and the set-up, given they’d had us practice walking across it three times now.
After the hosts went through their opening monologue, a stream of footage then played out, flashing through snippets of the top prospects’ highlights. When I came onto the screen, Mum wriggled excitedly, squeezing my hand.
The accompanying music was charged with energy, making me itch to get back out there. I love this game.
Eventually it was time to get down to business, and when the host tore open the envelope of Draft pick number one, I felt the entire room hold their breath.
“For the first pick,” the announcer began, pausing for effect. “The Dallas Lions select wide receiver Brody Stafford from Florida University.”
Brody was the expected top choice, so the announcement was more of a formality than a surprise. After getting to his feet, he took a moment to kiss his girlfriend and hug his family before making his way out of the room.
The main broadcast was happening right next door. To get there, we had to walk down a hallway lined with cameras before we’d reach the arena room where every team’s coach and head honchos were set up – plus thousands of fans watching from the stands – before finally stepping onto the stage.
With the first pick over, the tension in the room eased a little and everyone seemed to breathe easier as the production crew adjusted and reset. We had some time now while the broadcast transitioned to the main stage and Brody went through the formalities, including TV interviews, introductions, handshakes, and all the photo ops.
Leaning back on the sofa, I wiped my clammy palms along my thighs. Doug and mine and Brady’s dads were theorising about the next pick, but I was too dialled in to listen. I’d learned a long time ago how to block out unnecessary chaos and protect my mental zone.
As of this morning, I was still estimated at pick seven. I might get lucky with pick six, which belonged to Louisiana. They’d lost their starting quarterback to injury in the final game of the season, and their backup quarterbacks weren’t game ready.
Even with ESPN discussing that exact theory at length this morning, I still wasn’t letting myself get attached to the idea. Nothing was official until it was official.
I could sense the nervous energy returning as silence fell over the room once more when the production team signalled that the next pick was about to take place. It wasn’t just coming from the players,but their families too. Today didn’t just change our lives – it changed everyone’s who’d helped us get to this point.
“For the second pick, the Minnesota Bulldogs select linebacker Josh Grundy from Washington Tech.”
Josh’s girlfriend wiped away tears as she sprang to her feet and jumped into his outstretched arms, winding her legs around his waist. Beside me, Mum sniffed, fighting back her own emotions.
I couldn’t help but feel a twinge of envy. Not for his pick, but for the fact that he got to share this moment with his girlfriend. I wanted it myself – to look back and remember that, at this very moment, I truly had everything I’d ever dreamed of.
