Page 69 of The Night We Met

I’ve been playing in the league for almost eight years. I turn thirty in a couple months and am in my prime. I’ve continued to get stronger and in turn that’s helped me become one of the best QB’s in years.

These past eight years have been some of the most challenging in my life, it’s also been enjoyable but again, far from easy. The training my first year knocked me on my ass. And then the practices were grueling. During the three months of training camp my rookie year, I always went back to my apartment and crashed.

On top of rookie year I was still heartbroken. I rarelywent out. I hung out with some of the rookies when interviews would be held at the facility. Some might even call me a monk because I haven’t even so much as touched a groupie or glanced in the direction of any female. I’m a one woman type of man, and the only woman I want probably still hates me.

I wasn’t celibate but when I needed a release, one night stands were my go-to. Just never in my personal space. It still stands that I never led any of my hook-ups on. And trust that they have tried their hardest to get me to go for more. My heart would never be in it though.Those women deserved more than someone who never had more than half their heart to give.

My coach's goodbye speech brings me back. “They’re making the announcement tonight. The Bengals just lost their number one QB to a career ending injury and the backup has lost three games in a row. Badly. And the rookie that they do have is nowhere near ready. We have a good QB roster thanks to you. You’ve helped lead this team to some impressive wins and two Super Bowls. You should be proud. Carolina is proud of you.”

It’s on the tip of my tongue to suggest one of them to be traded. But that’s not how this game…this business works. And as the words “you’re being traded” continue to sit heavy in my mind, I have an out of body experience. My limbs feel like they weigh a ton. My tongue feels glued to the roof of my mouth. My mind feels as if I’m walking through the world's thickest fog.I can’t get my thoughts together as I realize my time here has come to an end.

“Thank you, sir,” I respond slowly.

“You’re welcome. I know your agent will talk to you as he’s already been made aware of what’s happening.”

And that’s exactly why I’ll need to have it out with myagent. I pay him a great deal of money to not let news like this happen without my knowing.

My coach continues, “Now the deal is a five-year contract with the option of a two-year extension. You’ll be playing for the five-year contract with a worth of $290 million and if they pick you up for the two-year option it’ll be a guaranteed $60 million. If you do happen to get injured, they have the option to buy you out, but that’s fairly unlikely. They’re already putting a lot of money on you. Which is a good thing. The Bengals have a ton of cap space so you shouldn’t have to worry about that. You’ll be given a lot of hate because you’ll be one of the highest paid QBs in the league. But I have faith in you Mason. Now get out of here. Go home and start packing.”

In a daze I stand up and shake my coaches...well now former coaches and owners hands. Carolina was the team that drafted me right out of college. Surprisingly, I've been here since then. My family loved that I was so close to them and so did I.

But I also felt like I was too close to her.

I’ll never tell anyone this, but I kept tabs on her. Or I at least tried to. It was hard. While I was getting ready for my rookie year, I was still mourning a very raw heartbreak. I heard that she was struggling. And that she avoided a lot of social activities. Which seemed strange to me since she was the social chair for her sorority.

When word got back to me that she moved on with Liam, it stung. But it had been well over a year since I had ended it with her. All of a sudden I came to the conclusion that if I would have wanted her to move on with anyone, it would be with him. Crazy as it sounds, I knew that he could take care of her. Until the accident happened. After that I stopped checking up on her. It didn’t seem right.

That news shook those of us that went to college with him. My phone lit up with text messages asking if I talked to Kamryn. I hadn’t but I had to play aloof because saying that she and I hadn’t talked since I was drafted makes it seem like I cut her out of my life. I was at the funeral. Hiding in the back because making my presence known during a time she lost someone she loved seemed like it would be a selfish move. And that was not the time for me to give her a shoulder to cry on. I have no idea what happened in their relationship, but I respected her grief.

But watching her speech to him. The way she continued to break as each word poured out of her beautiful mouth. It tore me apart. Each tear that fell, tore me apart. I wanted to storm up to the podium and hold her. But I couldn’t. So I stood in the back helpless and watched as she broke. And then I watched as she was yelled at by one of Liam’s best friends. It took everything in me not to step in. When the funeral was over I walked away. And since that day, I did what I could to push her from my mind.

One thing that has me questioning this move, is that she and I always talked about settling down in Cincy. It appealed to both of us. It had the sports, the nightlife, the culture, the city life and the suburban/ family life. I don’t know if she ever moved there. If she stayed in Philly or moved out west. I have no idea.

Like I said, I stopped checking up on her.For my sanity I needed to.

“Hey, Mom.”

My relationship with my Mom was tense when I started my rookie year. I don’t think she understood the heartache that I endured. I kept her at a distance the first year and it shifted the family dynamic for a while. Over the years my resentment towards her faded and in its place is a solidmother-son relationship. I kept my siblings out of the loop with that part of my life as they didn’t need to be in the crossfire that was my life at the time.But it didn’t stop the texts from my siblings asking if I was coming home for the off-season.

“Hey sweetheart. What’s going on? Shouldn’t you be at practice?” My family also knows my practice schedule should they need to get in touch with me at the last minute.

“I should. But I just got word that I’m being traded.”

“What? Where? Why?”

I snuff out a quiet laugh. “Yeah. The Bengals. Apparently, the starting QB is out for the rest of the season and the backup QB has lost three straight games. I don’t know. It’s all a business.”

“That it is. I’m sorry Mason.” Sadness is laced in her voice. She loved that I played close to home.It’s not that I went home frequently. But having the option to pop in for a visit when I needed a break from football was welcomed.

“It’s alright. Well, hey, I gotta go. I need to call my realtor and see if she can find something for me fast.”

“Okay. I’ll talk to you soon. I love you.”

“I love you too, Mom.”

As I finish cleaning out my locker, I’d like to say that a rush of emotions hit me. Like a montage of my time playing here flashes on an invisible screen. But they never come. While I’m sad to be leaving the team that’s been my home for the last almost decade, I’m excited to try a new team. Like my coach said, I’ve done all I could for the team. It’s time for me to try somewhere else and leave my mark there.

The move turned out to be relatively smooth. All I needed to do was call a moving company and they packed up what I couldn’t do on my own.

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