Page 267 of Steeling Her
“I know. It’s so big, took me forever to find out where I needed to go,” Danielle chimes in. “Right, sweetheart?” She bounces Taylor on her hip to gain her attention, which is clearly elsewhere.
“Yeah!” She smiles at her mom.
“Well, aren’t you just the cutest little girl. My God, Danielle, she’s like a doll! Absolutely precious!” Lynn reaches to squeeze Taylor’s arm, who smiles nervously at her. Taylor’s hasn’t met Lynn or Ellie until today, so she’s still getting used to them.
“She most certainly doesn’t act like one.” Danielle laughs at her only child who playfully giggles at Lynn when she runs her finger across her rosy cheek.
“I’d say it’s rather hard to decide whose jersey you should wear when your brothers and father play against each other.” Mr. Jackson appears beside me to begin a conversation.
“Oh. Yeah, sometimes there are fights, or my mom and I would swap jerseys at the halftime because we don’t want to be seen favoring one over the other.” We laugh together. It’s nice to be getting along with him. He’s a good man who was only looking out for his son and what was best for him.
I’ve moved on, and if I can move forward with him, then I can move forward with Nick.
***
Nick
I shut my eyes and rest my hands on my thighs while I listen to the music blasting in my headphones so I can get into a focused mindset. This is a big game today, and I have a lot of pressure on my shoulders. I move them around to loosen them up and wait for the physical therapist to put a strap on my shoulder that keeps acting up on me.
Breathe in. Breathe out.
Over and over again, I do the ritual to calm my nerves. Not only is it a big game, but my entire family is here to watch me play professionally for the first time. I also have Carter tonight watching from the stands. There’s a lot of added pressure to perfect my game and make sure we win tonight.
I don’t want to let anyone down.
A slap of a hand makes me open my eyes, and I see the therapist standing in front of me. I remove my headphones and sit in a way to make things easier for him to put the strap on.
As he cuts the tape and places it on the skin, he runs through the usual routine.
“If this area hurts at any stage during the game, you come off and let me know, alright? The sooner you let me know, the quicker and easier it is to treat it so you can go back in.” I nod at his instruction that he gives often, but he never straps it properly. When Carter did it, it was much tighter and stronger; it was more restrictive, but not enough for me to play terribly. It was healing my shoulder properly. I’ve been doing the exercises she told me to do, which have been beneficial, but it’s not an overnight miracle. I need to work at it for the long run, and I’m grateful she took the time to have a look at it and let me know how I need to improve it.
“You think you could strap it a little tighter?” I request and he does so by a fraction but it’s not enough, and definitely not like Carter’s. I would say maybe they’re not supposed to, but I did study this in college as well for some time, so I know that it wouldn’t hurt. “Thanks,” I say to get ready. My shoulder moves a bit before it really sets in. There is no stretch in the tape for movements. I stand up, pull up my pants, and begin to change into my uniform; pads, jersey, pants, boots, and helmet. The black stripes under the eye will come in time. It’s a sunny day, so it’s needed.
“You ready?” Chris asks me just as he grabs his helmet.
“Yeah, you?” I reply as I walk towards the door so we can line up in the tunnels and get onto the field. The buildup is always the worst.
“Yeah, I just need the game to start. I’m getting too old for the inspiring, pumped up music,” he jokes, making me burst out laughing as we hear the clicks and clacks coming from the cleats of our boots as we walk down the concrete floor leading its way to the green grass.
“Ugh, smells like someone took a shit in my helmet.” TJ winces as he sniffs his helmet.
“I knew I forgot to tell you something,” I tease him only for him to elbow me in my side as a response. I flinch away from him and laugh until we get to the exit—or entrance, it depends on which way you look at it.
The fans scream as the announcer begins his speech. We all stand in silence until some of the guys begin to run once we hear the signal to lead the way out onto the field.
I don’t run unless I’m playing a game. I saunter out in my own time as TJ jogs right by me, Chris moves up ahead. He runs to hype Taylor up, it works every time. I keep my head down out of fear. If I look up, my nerves will eat me alive.
After the national anthem plays, I can’t help but look into the stands. I see my family clapping and cheering for us when it ends. I also seeher. She’s standing next to my mom with Danielle on the other side holding on to Taylor. My heart jumps inside of me.
The baby blue jersey brings out the color in her eyes.
With two black stripes under my eyes, it’s time. “Game time!” my teammates roar to hype each other up. It doesn’t work for me; it never did. I rely on myself to hype myself up. I already did it in the locker room, so I don’t need any additional screams.
“It’s game time.” TJ pats me on the back as we all walk onto the field from our team huddle with the coach to take our positions. It’s different than when we were last here. We train beforehand on the field, and sometimes the other team does as well. It depends on how early they arrive.
It was quiet—peaceful—with no spectators. It’s what I prefer, but I know you don’t get that on game day. Don’t get me wrong, I enjoy the fans and want to give them something good to watch, but do I prefer quiet?Yes.
“HIKE!” And the game is off to an intense start. Nobody scores in the first ten minutes, and I can see the guys on either side are getting frustrated.
