Chapter 2
TWO
ISAAC
As soon as the water is scalding, I step into the shower and feel the tension drain from my sore muscles.
Practice kicked my ass today and I’m grateful for the heat and pounding spray.
Not sure what possessed the team’s owner to spring for these upscale shower heads, but they beat paying for a masseuse.
Miami has been my home for six years. The Dolphins were not my top choice, but being drafted number one fresh out of high school is an accomplishment few can claim.
Don’t get me wrong, I’m not complaining about being the number one draft pick at eighteen, but if I’d had a choice, I would have chosen a different team.
Growing up in the northeast, I had many teams to choose from to support, but my dad was born in Mexico and raised in Texas.
He’s a diehard Texans fan, no matter how they play.
I love the Texans because my dad loves the Texans.
He always dreamed of going pro, but an injury in college derailed that dream.
My brothers and I played football growing up, but I’m the only one who went pro.
My older brother, Owen, played in college, but my younger brother, Aiden, quit after middle school.
He never loved the game as much as the rest of us.
Practices started about six weeks ago and I’m glad to be back on the field every day.
The off-season is difficult for me. I get antsy, waiting to be back in my element and count the days until late May when we can officially start practicing again.
I keep up with my workouts and visit family during my time off, but I get bored.
Boredom has never been good for me. I get inside my own head and fast food comforts me.
I don’t have many vices. I rarely drink, and I don’t smoke or use drugs, but greasy, crappy fast food does it for me.
If my coaches knew how often I eat that shit, they’d have my ass.
Pulling myself back to reality, I turn the shower off and towel dry.
My muscles ache from pushing hard and working my ass off at practice.
Once I finish, I pull on shorts and a t-shirt.
I miss the cold weather in the height of the Miami summer when temperatures reach triple digits, but I’ll never miss shoveling snow. I shudder at the thought.
“Yo, Isaac,” Tyson Sanders, our quarterback, calls. “You coming out with us tonight?”
Same question every Friday after practice.
I’m close to a few of the guys on the team, but I don’t go out often.
I don’t like the bar scene. I’ve never dated much, and I don’t care for casual hookups.
I’ve had them, but I’m looking for more.
Right now, I prefer to focus on my career.
I’m only twenty-four. There’s plenty of time to settle down.
“Nah, I’m beat.” It’s not a lie. I am exhausted from practice, but I’ll likely pick up junk food from a drive thru and stay up for hours binging a few action movies.
It gets lonely, but I’m not good with people.
During the season, all eyes are on me constantly.
I prefer my privacy, so I work hard not to put myself in a position where my name will end up in the headlines or tabloids.
Some of my teammates don’t feel the same way and give zero fucks about their life being on full display for the world.
The only things I want people to talk about are my accomplishments on the field.
Tyson shakes his head but doesn’t argue or push me.
He respects my need for privacy. Tyson is a partier and doesn’t care what anyone thinks about him or what is said on social media.
He is comfortable with who he is. I admire him for that.
He’s also my closest friend on the team.
As much as he loves to party and hookup with random girls, he’ll come hang out with me and watch movies or play video games any time I invite him.
Tyson was my mentor when I joined the team, and we became fast friends.
If I asked him to come chill tonight, he’d blow off the other guys, but I refuse to put him in that position. It’s not his place to babysit me.
He waves as he follows a few other guys out. I grab my black gym bag and head to my car. As soon as my phone connects to Bluetooth, I hit my mom’s cell number. I haven’t talked to my parents since Sunday. I miss them every day and wish we all lived closer.
“Hey, baby,” Mom answers on the second ring. She’s never far from her phone, especially now that all her children have moved out.
“Hi, Mom, how are you and Dad?”
“Wonderful. We’re enjoying having Aiden here but miss you so much. Owen and the girls are here for the weekend.”
She was so excited when my little brother decided to come home for the summer.
He’ll be a college senior this year at the University of Hartford in Connecticut and plans to move to California after graduation.
Honestly, I was shocked when he took a job in our hometown for the summer instead of an internship in California or New York.
He is getting a degree in audio engineering and wants to be a sound designer for movies or television.
He’s a master at sound design and has been working with local bands since high school.
Owen lives in New Jersey about an hour from our parents.
He spends at least one weekend a month with them.
He works for an insurance company and is able to work from home most of the time.
It allows him flexibility to be available for his girls.
Raising two daughters alone isn’t an easy task, but Owen is a great father.
His wife filed for divorce three years ago when their youngest was only six months old.
She didn’t even try to get custody of the girls.
She’ll call him a couple of times a year and ask to visit them.
Owen never denies her request. I’m not sure I would be so nice after everything she put him through.
“I’m glad your house is full. I miss you guys, too.”
“How is Miami? Is practice going well?” she asks.
“Miami is hot. Practice is going great. The team looks good, so we should be more than ready by September.”
“That’s good news, son,” Dad adds, joining Mom on the call. I love that she always puts me on speaker phone, and they all join the conversation.
“Hey, Dad. Hi Aiden and Owen, how’s life?”
“Pretty good. Looking forward to senior year,” Aiden says.
“Busy, but I wouldn’t have it any other way,” Owen adds, and I can hear the smile in his voice. He loves being a father more than anything in the world.
“Are my nieces there?”
“Hi, Uncle Isaac,” Katie squeals with a giggle.
“Hi,” Kennedy whispers. She’s the shyest three-year-old I’ve ever met, but Katie makes up for it by being the loudest five-year-old this side of the Mississippi.
“Hey, baby girls. Uncle Isaac misses you so much.”
Talking to my family is always the highlight of my day.
I don’t speak to them every day, but we do talk several times a week.
I continue the conversation with my family for the entire twenty-minute drive to my modest house.
I live in a gated community for safety reasons, but I bought a small three-bedroom house.
It’s just me, so I don’t need a lot of room, but I like having extra bedrooms when my family visits.
They all try to make it down for at least one game each season.
I look forward to seeing them in a couple of months.
It sucks not being able to spend much time with my family and missing most of the major holidays, but that’s the life of an NFL player and one I refuse to trade it for anything.