Chapter 4
Tavion ‘Tank’ Briggs
The Game Begins
“She’s a pretty girl,” I said aloud to the owner, keeping my hand on the horse, as I walked around her, checking her out, making sure that everything was good with her.
“Look at that coat on her. It’s shiny as hell. I can tell that you, and your wife have been keeping up with her, brushing her on the regular,” I complimented, pausing in my step for a second, so that I could run my palm along her back, keeping my movements calm, and soft.
“Nice muscle on her. Strong legs. Clean hooves. Okay,” I let out, and the owner Matt stood there smiling, and his wife Janet, who was standing right next to him was smiling as well.
I was horse shopping this afternoon. I’m a Miami nigga all day, but I couldn’t ignore this countryside of me.
This countryside was embedded in my roots.
My mama made sure that she took me to my grandma, and my pop- pop house every summer, and my pop- pop had instilled all of this in me.
My pop- pop taught me everything that I knew about horses.
I could sit anyone down and give them a full lesson on horses.
“You know your stuff. How you get into horses like that, man? Usually, people come out here wanting to purchase horses, and a lot of times, I don’t think their doing it for the right reasons.
They look at these horses as an aesthetic, not wanting to put the proper time, and care into it.
I’ve been in this business for many, many years, and let me tell you something, all money isn’t good money.
I don’t sell my horses unless I know that their going to be put in good hands,” Matt said to me, and I paused from looking at the horse, so that I could glance over at him, and acknowledge what he said.
“My pop- pop taught me everything that I know about horses. Man, I could listen to the sound of a horse breathing, and decipher what kind of mood there in. I know when they’re about to go in heat, and what season they like to breed in.
I know the kind of weather that they thrive in, and the proper foods to feed them that’ll keep their coat looking slick like this.
When it comes to their sleep schedule, you ever notice that horses don’t lay down too long?
It’s because they feel safer when their standing up.
For a horse to rest, that means she’s somewhere where she feels safe.
Horses have good instincts. They can feel a person’s energy before they even have the chance to understand it.
Notice how I’m standing here, rubbing on her, that she hasn’t flinched once.
She knows she’s in good hands with me. She knows that I’m not going to cause her any harm.
Ain’t that right pretty girl?” I took my eyes off Matt, and his wife for a second, so that I could look over at the horse.
“I love that, Tank. What about you, man? You into horses, too?” Matt turned his head, so that he could look over at my little cousin Rico, who was standing there, looking like he was going to take off, and run if I even brought this horse to him.
“Nah man. That’s Tank’s field,” Rico responded, and I laughed at his scary ass.
Rico was my little cousin on my dad’s side. He was my dad’s brother son. Rico was a big, solid ass nigga that looked like if he choked you too hard, your ass would die. With his build, and his maturity, people thought that he was older than what he was, but he was only 22 years old.
Rico went to college at the University of Miami, and he was currently on the football team there.
Hottest wide receiver to ever come out of Miami.
My cousin was nice with that ball, and we were in the middle of football season, and I didn’t miss a home game.
He wouldn’t allow me to miss a game either because every night before his games, he would hit me, just to make sure that I was going to be there.
Rico was a handsome young man. I told that nigga that shit every chance I got that he was a handsome dude.
He wasn’t even in the NFL yet, but he already had money out the ass.
Money was coming in left and right with different sponsorships, NIL deals, and he even did a few modeling gigs over the summer.
I was in his ear every chance that I got, telling him to strap up when he was out here fuckin these women that were throwing pussy at him, but just like a young nigga, he didn’t listen to shit that I had to say, so he currently had a two-month-old baby.
Let that nigga tell it, he had a baby mama from hell, and I didn’t feel the least bit bad for his ass because I’ve been preaching to him about strapping up since he was in high school.
It was hot out this afternoon, so Rico stood there in a white wife beater, light blue denim jeans that were hanging off his waist, showing the black briefs that he was wearing, and a pair of white, air forces that looked fresh out of the box.
Rico had dark skin just as I did, and he had long hair like me.
Today, his hair was styled in about 7 stitch braids to the back, and his lineup was fresh.
A couple of big Cuban link chains with even bigger pendants were around his neck, showing that the money he was making was good.
Even though I was only fourteen years older than Rico, I loved the lil nigga like I birthed him, and I was proud that he didn’t grow up to become a product of his environment.
Rico grew up in the same hood as my dad, and the rest of my family that I had out that way.
Because I didn’t have a father in my life that was consistent, I didn’t get to see my dad’s side too often.
When I did, it was because of my own relationship that I had with my uncles, aunts, and cousins that I had on his side.
On that side, my dad, and his brothers, they were all living wrong.
Selling drugs, robbing, and killing, just doing anything that they needed to do to make a living.
Crazy because when I started moving weight, I remember my dad reaching out to me, wanting to be put on, and because of the unhealed trauma that I had in my heart, I never put that nigga on with me.
He felt some kind of way about it, so over the years, me and him didn’t have the best relationship.
That nigga had so much hate in his heart because I bossed up in life, went on to make a name for myself, made good money, and I no longer lived in the hood, and because of that, it’s times where I felt like that nigga hated me.
Even today, I was the one to pull up on Rico and pick him up from his dad’s crib.
When I pulled up, my dad was over there, and he didn’t say two words to me, so I didn’t say shit to his ass, either.
Imagine being the one that abandoned your child, put my mama in a position to struggle, yet he was the one that wanted to walk around with all of this fuckin animosity.
“You want to ride her, Tank?” Janet asked me, with a smile on her face.
“Yeah. Let me ride her,” I responded, adjusting my hat that I had on my head.
Since I was going to ride her, Matt came over to me, with the reins in his hands. I thanked him for it, and I went ahead, and climbed up. When I got comfortable, the mare stirred a little bit, and that’s when I lifted my hand, rubbing my palm up and down her neck.
“Easy, girl. Easy now. It’s just me,” I talked to her gently, as I lifted my foot, so that I could put them on the stirrups.
When I could hear her release a breath, as if she was okay, that’s when I settled in the saddle, adjusted the reins, giving her just a little bit of pressure to see how she responded to it.
“Good girl, mama,” my tone was low, as I spoke to her, and that’s when I nudged her gently with my heels, guiding her into a slow walk around the corral.
In this moment, I found myself smiling because I was thinking about my pop- pop.
He would have loved this horse that I was out here riding.
She was perfect. She was beautiful. She stood up tall, and strong.
She was healthy, and that was the only kind that he liked.
If he was here with me right now, I knew that he would have had his phone out, taking a video of me, as he boasted about me being his grandson, and how he’d taught me everything that I knew about riding horses.
Moving back to Miami this year, I decided that I wanted to purchase a home.
Growing up and just becoming much wiser with the way that I spent my money, I didn’t think that it was lucrative to me to be spending five bands on a spot for me to pay rent.
Granted, I had five bands to spend, but the goal in life was to make more money, opposed to just throwing money down the drain.
With that, I decided that I wanted to purchase a property out in Southwest Ranches.
Homes in Southwest Ranches were mansions.
It was the kind of home where a man would purchase for his wife, and his children.
It was the kind of house that gets turned into a home.
The big backyard, with the long driveway, and a lot of space for kids to run around.
For me, I opted on the house to pay homage to my pop- pop.
I needed the land. I needed the space. I needed a place where I could keep a few horses, and go back into time, feeling like that little boy all over again that used to ride horses in my grandparents backyard.
A big backyard was the way my grandparents have always lived.
In their backyard, it was a spread of land, and that land consisted of horses, chickens, shit you name it.
My grandma was into gardening, so that big garden that was back there, she helped to keep it alive.
So yeah, I came out here today, wanting to see some horses because I was ready to bring one home with me, and bring that country boy shit out here to Miami.