10. Ryder
Ryder
The expression out there about how loving someone so much it can hurt is exactly how it is for me when it comes to Alice Monarch.
I didn’t know it at the time, but I first fell in love with her in the sixth grade, and as the years passed, that love turned into a low ache, then a constant ache, and now I just hurt.
I hurt badly because of her, and no matter what I do, it won’t go away.
Not leaving her. Not years away from her. When it comes to her, it still hurts.
Like chronic pain.
One that won’t go away and there’s no cure to fix it.
I’m grateful for the reprieve of the break in seeing her over the past week, but having to go back to our school, it’s like I’m self-inflicting a wound that can’t scab or heal.
And the thing about going to one school for most of your education is that all of your memories are cemented here.
Like an old home movie, clips of Alice and me together flash through my mind as I steer the truck toward the north end zone of the field.
The end zone where our team would stand pregame behind a large rip-apart banner that the cheerleaders held, and as our team announcer did his dramatic lead-up to our theme song and we burst through the tunnel, I would always find her and stop.
After our first middle school football season, we were sitting in advisory when she announced that we needed a handshake.
She didn’t want it to be complicated, just something quick that only she and I shared.
After many suggestions and different attempts, we decided on an up high high five, then our hands arced and swung down to a low high five, and we finished with a fist bump.
In the tunnel, we would do this, and then with both hands, she’d slap my shoulder pads and mouth, “Go kick their ass.”
Every time I would smile. It was so unlike her to use the word ass, but not at the same time. I always found it funny and endearing. After all, it was for me.
But not anymore. Now all her time, secret handshakes, and inside jokes are with other people, and I can’t tell if I’m jealous and hate it, or if I’m really indifferent and this is just situational.
I park my truck in the same spot against the fence, which bumps up next to the field that I parked at for years.
Much of my life has changed, but here nothing has.
Everything looks exactly the same, and I feel like I’ve gone back in time.
From the track color to the scoreboard, the pirate flag flying high, and the painted club banners tied to the fence for tomorrow’s rival game, it’s eerie.
And what I mostly didn’t expect is to feel like I don’t belong.
I was a king on this campus, and now I feel like a fish out of water.
Why? The only reason I can come up with is that she’s not by my side. This was our place, one we ruled together, and we aren’t a “we” anymore. I’m in a place I now have to navigate by myself. It feels wrong. It feels sad.
Everyone in the group turns to greet me as I walk up to join them on the sidewalk outside the back side of the gymnasium. There’s Dean Rivas, Coach Ciao, Ms. Smith, the Tarpons social team, a few students, and Alice. I know I’m not running late, but somehow I feel like I am.
“There he is,” Coach Ciao calls out, hugging me as I approach him first, and then I proceed to exchange greetings around the circle. “Dean Rivas, it’s nice to see you.” We shake hands while he smiles up at me. That’s what happens when you’re pretty much taller than everyone.
“We appreciate you two volunteering to come and see us today. I know the students are going to love it.” Dean Rivas beams. It’s about this time that King Silver comes running out of the athletic training department, where I assume he was getting dressed into the mascot costume.
I already know the students will be more excited to see him than us.
“Of course. You reach out, and I’ll come back as often as you like,” I tell him. After all, it was this school that helped me achieve my dreams. Yes, it takes talent to get recruited, but our coaches go above and beyond to help kids play collegiately if that is what they want.
I glance at Alice. She’s having a side conversation with Mrs. Smith, and my chest constricts.
She’s so beautiful. Long brown hair, curled perfectly.
Her lips are all shiny as she talks animatedly, and she’s wearing one of those trendy athletic tennis skirts that girls wear right now, showing off her lean legs.
I hate that she makes me long for her, and after how professional she was at the football jamboree after my jab at her drinking coffee, I don’t have it in me to banter with her today.
I feel emotionally exhausted.
Dean Rivas’s cell phone pings, and he looks at the message.
“All right, everyone. The students are in place, I think we can head on in.”
Collectively, the group moves, and I pull on Alice’s arm to get her to stay back and walk with me. I don’t know why I did this. I’m lucky she didn’t turn around and knee me in the balls. Instead, she looks at me, and no words need to be said. Being here, in this place, it’s getting to her too.
Together, we walk side by side into the gym, like we have a hundred times. Only this time, it’s filled with sorrow, and I guess regret.
Inside the gym, the drumline is playing while they go through the grades to see which is the loudest. It’s one of the many friendly competitive challenges to see who wins the overall spirit stick, which will be announced on Monday after the game.
They use this tactic to make sure people show up to the game and support the team.
Coach Ciao wanders into the gym and up to the podium, where he introduces the football team. All of this feels like nostalgia and sensory overload. Even Alice has one hand on the window as she stares inside at the real-life story of our past.
And then it’s our time.
“We are very thrilled to announce our guests for today. You may know their names as they were legendary here on campus, or you may know their names by their successful college careers, or you may know their names because of their new professions with the Tampa Tarpons.” The volume of the crowd increases as I’m thinking they figured it out.
“But let’s give a huge Pirates welcome to Alice Monarch and Ryder Monroe! ”
I’m shocked by how nervous I feel to walk into this gymnasium full of students all wearing navy and Carolina blue, but I shouldn’t be.
As I said, King Silver steals the show as he runs in when we’re halfway to our seats, pushes himself between Alice and me, and then slides across the floor on his stomach as if he’s on a slip-and-slide.
Everyone loves it, and several of the football players rush over to dogpile him.
It’s one hundred percent something kids would do, and I chuckle at the scene before me.
Way to break the ice.
Two stools sit behind a microphone. Alice and I both settle in as the cheering dies down, and King Silver pushes between some students in the front row to sit down and make himself comfortable. Kids are laughing. They’re all extremely happy.
Alice leans forward. “Wow, now that’s what I call a welcome. Thank you!”
The kids cheer again. She’s so good at public appearances.
“We hear y’all have a big game tonight?”
More cheering. This time, the school administration moves in around us to quiet the kids.
“Yeah, we understand.” I chuckle. “As you know, four years ago we sat right where you are, and today we’re excited to be over here getting to talk to all of you.”
With all the activities of the pep rally, we are given roughly five to seven minutes, and I’ve never been more grateful.
“Let’s talk about sportsmanship.” Alice looks over at me, and our eyes lock. Not a glance, not a part she’s playing for this motivational lesson we’re giving, but a knowing look.
Sportsmanship.
This is the subject they asked us to prepare for, and I feel like karma is coming back to bite me in the ass.
In all the years that I’ve played, I’ve prided myself on my good sportsmanship, except for that one time.
That one time with Alice. And here we are, and I feel like I’m having to eat crow.
I know what I did, and she knows what I did.
It was the last game I saw her at. Sophomore year, Clemson versus Florida at Florida, where I taunted her with the ball.
Such terrible sportsmanship and a wave of guilt crashes into me.
I was a dick to her, and no matter what happened between us four years ago, it’s inexcusable. I’m going to have to apologize.
One day.
Not today, though.
She keeps going. “The definition of playing with sportsmanship is playing fair, following the rules, and treating everyone—your teammates, your opponents, the fans, and the referees—with respect. But what if you’re a spectator and not playing the sport?
Well, it still applies to you as you are there representing your team.
That means being supportive, respectful, and creating a positive environment where the athletes feel empowered to play and play well, not humiliated and belittled. ”
I lean forward, glance toward the players, and add in, “And if you’re on the field, it’s helping up a player who is down, shaking hands, being gracious if you win or lose, and certainly following the rules.”
“But I thought pirates were outlaws? They sailed the seas to raid ships for treasure and goods.” Alice animates using her hands.
“Not these pirates. Am I right?” I ask the students, and they all cheer as King Silver jumps up and fist pumps the sky.
“Hey, Ryder, tell us, what is not sportsmanship?” Coach Ciao calls out.