Infinity(82)
In college, it was all about playing professional ball. Every time I turned around, someone was whispering about the prestige, or money, or girls, or whatever they could think of to sell me on the NFL. Don’t get me wrong. This is not a poor me story. I could’ve at any point said, “I don’t want to play football,” and my parents would have supported me. They probably would have tried to talk me out of it, but they would have stood by me if that was my decision.
I kept playing professional ball even after Charlie and I broke up because I love the sport. There’s nothing like the smell of the fresh-cut grass, the cheers of the crowd, the friendships that I created with the guys, or the feel of doing the impossible and making the play happen. It’s the PFM, Pure Fucking Magic that happens every Sunday.
The downside is I’ve never owned my life. I’ve never been able to walk through a mall without being recognized. I signed a contract that says that I can’t skydive, ride a motorcycle, snow-ski, or put myself in harm’s way. Nine months out of the year, my existence is owned by the football franchise. There’s no vacation time or holidays. I’ve never gotten to call in sick to work and play hooky.
Hell, there are guys on the team who don’t see their families more than once or twice a season. They watch their kids grow up via Skype.
Football has added lots of dollars to my bank account, as well as the endorsement deals that have come along with it. I’ve made enough money through my wise investments that my children’s children couldn’t spend it all.
So why keep playing?
It’s never been about the money. The money has been a nice perk. I’ve won two Super Bowls. I’ve hoisted the MVP trophy over my head twice. I’ve done all I can do in my sport. What I haven’t achieved is the title of the Best Dad or Husband. And as long as I’m playing football, I’ll always spend the season being spread too thin.
No, my whole life so far has been focused on my mistress, football. I’m ready for the second part of my life to begin. The one where I’m a full-time father and husband.
Will it pay as much? Not even close. In fact, the amount of money I’m giving up is staggering. Will it be as rewarding? I’m counting on it.
Walking away from football is the first career move that I’ve ever made without a team of advisors. Since I was thirteen, every time I turned around someone was whispering in my ear about football. The first decision that I’ve ever made on my own.
My mind starts frantically trying to come up with a major decision that I’ve made by myself. Going to Texas A&M. No. That’s not one. They were the best school that recruited me. I’d wanted to go to Baylor University, but they didn’t offer me a scholarship. Certainly not playing for Dallas. They drafted me. I had no say in what team picked me up. Oh my God! I didn’t even decide to marry Charlie. She proposed to me. Choosing to walk away from the game of football is my own. This is one hundred percent my own doing, with no outside influences. The nosey media vultures have no clue why they’re being summoned in on an off-season Sunday. I’m doing this my way. I feel the need to turn on a little Frank Sinatra.
The only reason I told Aiden was because he has to work on the details of releasing me from my contract.
Will Charlie be upset that I didn’t ask her opinion on my retirement? Probably not. I hope she sees this as my way of solidifying our future. This is me fighting for us. Here’s the proof of my commitment to our family—to her.
I can look back and say that I’ve gotten everything that I ever wanted so far out of this life. I got the girl, the career, the championships, the kids, and now I’m getting the time to enjoy it all.
****
“Turn on the TV, Charlie,” I instruct her when she answers the phone.
“Colin it’s so loud here, I’m sure that I can’t hear it even if it’s on.” She argues. Figures. She can’t make anything easy on me.
“Look, take everyone in the house up to the movie room and turn on ESPN. I wouldn’t ask you to do this if it wasn’t important.”
“Fine,” she sighs. “Don’t forget that we have Ainsley’s party in an hour. And Amy and I think that it’s rude that you and Aiden aren’t here helping.”
“We’ll be there.” I pause swallowing the lump in my throat. “And hey, I love you. Infinity.”
“Infinity,” she responds.
I hang up with her and turn to my coach, general manager, team president, and team owner. “I’m ready.”
Aiden fist bumps me and slips out from behind the curtain to take a seat in the audience with all the reporters that have gathered on the Sunday after the Super Bowl. I’m the first to walk out on the stage and stand behind the podium, followed by the team. It’s the same Cowboys backdrop that I stand in front of after every home game. This is the same podium that I’ve been leaning on, answering questions from for the last twelve seasons. It feels like any other press conference, but this one is far from it.