Page 110 of Lowering His Guard

I’m going to miss this. Miss the crowd. The excitement pulsing through my body. The sweat and grind on the field.

But football isn’t who I am. It’s the game I play. It’s not my identity.

I thought it was but being around May has shown me I’m more than my place on an NFL team. I’m more than the money I earn.

The Seals receive the opening kickoff. The returner fields the kick. I wait behind the white stripe with the offense, helmet in hand. The returner is tackled at the twenty-eight-yard line.

Coach Knox points. “Offense!”

I jam on my helmet, jog onto the field, and glance once toward the stands. May is already on her feet. She’s wearing a jersey with my number on it. It’s huge on her. She’s cheering as if I just scored a touchdown.

I line up three yards behind Nolan. Coach calls 22 Lead. I already know who's getting the ball. It’s not my job to carry it. My job is to erase the linebacker.

Nolan takes the snap and pivots. I don't wait for Gage to reach me. The second the ball leaves Nolan's hands, I explode through the A-gap.

The linebacker reads the play and steps downhill. Good. Come to me.

I sink my hips, keep my pads low, and drive through his numbers.

Boom!

The collision rattles my teeth. My shoulder burns. Somewhere beneath my pads another bruise is already forming. May will kiss it better later.

My cleats dig into the turf. His heels leave it. I keep my legs pumping until he's no longer between Gage and the hole. Gage brushes my hip as he cuts inside.

Five yards.

Six.

Seven before the safety finally drags him down.

I don't watch the end of the run. I'm already turning back to the huddle.

People think football is violence. It isn't. Violence is easy. Precision is hard. Hit six inches too high and the linebacker stands you up. Six inches too low and you end up on the ground. Six inches right and Gage runs free.

Unfortunately, we don't score. Four plays later, we're walking off the field while Tanner complains he never even got the chance to do his touchdown dance.

I glance up at the stands. May is standing on top of her seat, clapping. Jace pulls her down. I imagine he’s telling her now isn’t the time to clap.

My lips tip up. May knows more about football than she lets on. She’s just a goofball. She should annoy me the way Tanner does. She doesn’t.

Her goofiness isn’t intended to hide her true self the way Tanner’s is. Her goofiness is her. She’s naturally full of sunshine. And I love to bathe in its warmth.

I return my attention to the field. This is only a practice game but it’s still a game. And I’m a professional. Even though this is my last year before I retire.

I inhale a deep breath and the scent of fresh-cut grass and sweat fills my lungs. I love the smell. I love the field. I love the grind. I love the game.

I’m not retiring because I don’t love the game. I’m retiring because it’s the best decision for me and my family.

“Brock!” Tanner calls.

I glare at him. “What?”

He bats his eyelashes. “No grunt for me?”

My brow wrinkles. “You want me to grunt?”

“He said the word. Close enough.” He motions to Raven. “Flip the scoreboard.”