Page 7 of Who's Saving You
“Nik! Nik! Nik!”
Tristan Starks jumps on my back and yells, “Saint Nik strikes again. Someone get my man a halo!”
I rip my helmet off and toss it in the air, laughing. “Halo’s on back order. How about I buy the first round at O’Malley’s tonight?”
The barroom promise is enough to make the cheers even louder. “Opa!” is chanted, and I laugh at their nod to my heritage. For a second, this feels less like a job and more like a brotherhood, just like when I was one third of the Trickie Nickies.
I look up to see my run in slow-motion replay on the Jumbotron. It’s a perfectly executed run. Tonight, I didn’t get lucky. Tonight, I proved I belong here.
I glance into the crowd, jogging back to the sideline with my team around me. I see flags waving, jerseys with my number 11 flood the place, and fans holding signs that say:
"ROOKIE OF THE YEAR!"
"NIK NATION!"
"11 REASONS TO BELIEVE."
And my favorite sign:
TO AGÓRI MOU
My mom is always in the stands. She’s become quite a fixture here at Falls Stadium. Once I was drafted, I rented an apartment for Mom to stay in during the season so she would never miss a home game. Eva and I agreed we didn’t want to sell our childhood home, but we also didn’t want Mom alone and so far away.
We line up for the kick, already celebrating the win but taking the extra point. Both teams move to the field, and we congratulate each other. I shake hands with opposing coaches and getgood jobsand back pats from veteran players.
Yeah, Nik, you fucking made it.
Reporters swarm me as I make my way back to the sideline. Bright lights and cameras are everywhere. You’d think this was a Super Bowl game, not week eight. A young reporter sticks a mic in my face, and I lean in to hear him.
"Nik Papas, you’re America’s favorite rookie right now! Walk us through that game-winning touchdown. What’s going through your head when that ball’s coming at you?"
“Don’t drop it.”
He laughs. “No, really, most would fold under that pressure. Here you are, brand new, and you’re thriving. How?”
I shrug and look around the field as I answer. “We practice for a reason. I trust my QB, I trust my team, and we get it done together.”
“What do you say to people who thought you weren’t ready for this stage?"
With a half smile, I say, “Watch that run on replay."
Behind us, the crowd isstillchanting my name, and I do my best to be confident but not a dick. Butfuck me, I am loving this moment right now.
The reporter laughs. “You’ve definitely got fans! Nik, last thing. You’re not just a rookie anymore. You’re a phenomenon, the Saint who saved the Warriors. So, what's next?”
I look right into the camera. "Next? Shake hands in the light. Handle things in the dark."
The guys grab me and rough me up a little more as I’m pulled from the on-field press conference. I circle around, taking it all in and holding onto it the best I can. Because this? It doesn’t get any better.
2
Noelle
I watch a reel from last night's game on my phone, biting aggressively on a sour Nerds candy rope. As the interview fades, the broadcast cuts to a split screen with one side showing the toe-drag catch and the other showing how social media exploded.
“Rookie of the Year LOCKED” @PrimeTimeStats
“Nik isnotnormal. This dude’s H11M.” @NFLTalkDaily
