by Paul Volponi
“I’m not trying to evict him or anything,” I told her. “I just never had a room of my own before. I really want to make it about me.”
So I shoved Carter’s bed as far into the corner as I could. Then I boxed up most of his football trophies and moved the rest of them behind mine on the top shelf of the bookcase. I heard the house phone ring and Mom pick it up in the kitchen. Then, after a few minutes, there was a knock on my door, along with a sharp bark. Mom stepped in, carefully cradling the phone while Galaxy jumped up beside her.
“Travis,” she said, with a smile and a sort of stunned look on her face, “this call’s for you.” She handed me the phone with her eyes on mine.
Dad only called my cell. And Mom wouldn’t have talked to him for that long, not without an argument. I thought it might be that Lisa Marie Batelli, who’d been my partner for a school summer reading project. Mom insisted that she had a major crush on me.
“Hello,” I said into the receiver, like I was walking into a room with the lights off.
“This is Head Coach Elvis Goddard, Travis. How are you today?”
“Fine, Coach. I’m fine,” I said, as Mom’s smile grew wider.
“I spoke briefly with your mother, and she said it was all right for me to make you this proposal. Travis, I’d like to offer you a football scholarship to play at Gainesville.”
For a second, the only sensation I could feel was goose bumps popping up over my body. My mouth hung open and I couldn’t speak.
“Travis?” said Coach G. “What do you think? Would you like to become part of our Gator family?”
The words rushed out of me in a flood of emotions.
“You bet, Coach. Yes! Yes! Yes!” I said, with my heart beating like a big bass drum in a halftime marching band: Boom! Boom! Boom!
“It’s not official yet. It can’t be. You’re too young to commit to a college,” Coach G. said. “This is just a personal promise from me to you that there’ll be a place for you here in five years.”
I turned to see Mom still standing in the doorway, looking as proud as could be.
“I won’t let you down, Coach,” I said. “You’ll see. I’ll do whatever it takes to make it.”
“I know you will, son. That’s why I’d only make someone like you this offer,” he said, before clearing his throat. “Now, this proposed scholarship is highly unusual. Let’s talk a little bit about the media. They should be calling soon.”
* * *
I phoned Dad first with the news, even before I thought about calling Carter.
“You’ve reached Max Gardner of Nationwide Insurance, serving all of your insurance needs in Tarzana, Woodland Hills, Encino, Reseda, and the greater Los Angeles area. I’m serving a valued member of our Nationwide family right now, so leave a detailed message and I’ll get back to you as soon as possible.”
I hated that message. I’d heard it so many times over the past two years, I knew it by heart.
“Call me back right away. You’re not going to believe it,” I said.
Over the next five minutes, pacing around my bedroom, I broke my own rule and left Dad two more messages. So he’d know I was serious. I even thought about changing my phone message, just for him. Something like: “This is Travis Gardner, the newest scholarship quarterback for the Fightin’ Gators. I’m either being interviewed by the media or polishing up my passing game. I’ll be sure to return your call when there’s a break in my busy schedule.”
But I really wanted to tell Dad myself.
A few minutes after my last message, Dad called back. He started to give me grief about overloading his voicemail. But I cut him off quick.
“What do you think happened to me today?” I asked.
“I don’t know, but you need to tell me in less than three minutes. I’m heading into an important sales meeting.”
“Coach G. gave me an athletic scholarship!” I said, sitting on the edge of my bed and twirling a football in my left hand.
There was a long silence before Dad said in a sarcastic tone, “So you’ll be going up against college players instead of eighth-graders.”
“Not for this season,” I said, slamming the football down against the meat of my thigh. “Five years from now.”
“Come on, Travis. What’s this about? I know Carter’s been getting all the attention lately. But—”
“It’s all true. I swear. Check out ESPN,” I said. “They’re going to do a phone interview with me soon.”
I threatened to put Mom on the line to back me up on everything. That’s when Dad sounded like he was finally starting to believe me.
“Gainesville’s committing to you? A full athletic scholarship?”
“If I want it, it’s mine. But I’ve already told Coach G. yes,” I said, letting myself fall backward onto the bed.
“Travis, I’m really proud of you. I agree, grab it while it’s being offered. It’s so easy for a football player to have a bad season or get injured. This is like an insurance policy for your future. Something you can count on,” Dad said, as my eyes studied every little crack in the ceiling over my head. “Is it binding on their part?”
“No, it’s just Coach G.’s word.”
“Hmm. Okay. Still, it gives you lots of cushion in case you struggle,” said Dad.
Only, I wasn’t thinking about any of that negative stuff. I just wanted a chance to play the position I loved—quarterback—at the highest level possible.
Chapter 5
A producer from ESPN called. She wanted me to use the landline in the kitchen and not my cell for the interview. So it would sound clearer. Galaxy wouldn’t stop barking, though, and Mom had to drop him off at a neighbor’s house for a while.
“Galaxy’s probably as excited as us,” I said, when she got back without him.
“Dogs are like that. Most animals are. They’re extremely intuitive. They can sense things,” Mom said. “I’ve read news stories where people’s pets knew an earthquake or tsunami was going to hit, hours before anyone else.”
Mom seemed anxious, waiting for that producer to call back.
“Aren’t you nervous at all?” she asked. “Millions of people watch that network.”
“Maybe just a little,” I said, shuffling the salt and pepper shakers around the table. “But I don’t see why I should be. The interview questions will be about football and me. Those are two subjects I know. It’s not like schoolwork or taking a test, where I have to study to find the right answers.”
* * *
Several minutes later: Travis is on the phone, sitting at the kitchen table. His mother stands beside him, pacing a bit. Her arms are folded in front of her, and she’s having a hard time standing in one place.
Producer: Travis, just stay relaxed. Scott will be on live with you in a moment. We already have some facts on you from the Gainesville Gators’ media department. When you answer Scott’s questions, try to make it more like you’re having a conversation with him. Avoid “yes” and “no” answers. Okay?
Travis: I got it.
Mom (whispering): Is it live?
Travis nods his head.
Mom mouths the words, “My God!”
After several seconds, Travis hears ESPN SportsCenter’s theme music.
Scott: Welcome back to SportsCenter. I wonder how many viewers remember what they were doing the summer before they entered the eighth grade. Getting ready for a final year of middle school? Trying to talk your parents into adding an extra hour to your curfew? Well, Travis Gardner, a quarterback from Alachua, Florida, is now making plans to attend Gainesville University, where—in five years—he may be playing football, after verbally accepting an offer from famed coach Elvis Goddard. Scholarship promises like these aren’t completely unheard of. Several pre–high school quarterbacks have received them in the past, such as Chris Leak and David Sills. But, Travis, what was your first reaction to that phone call?
Travis: Oh, I was in total shock. It was something I never expected when I woke up th
is morning. But I look at myself in the mirror now and I’m almost a Gator!
Scott: I’m told you’ll play Pop Warner football again this coming season. And for our viewers who don’t know, that’s the equivalent of Little League baseball. Travis, how do you think players in that league will treat you?
Travis: They’ll probably do a big celebration dance every time they sack me. I know I would. I’d say, “I just tackled the kid with the scholarship. Where’s mine?”
Scott: I know it’s been less than a day since you accepted the scholarship, Travis. But has it changed your life so far in any way?
Travis: Yeah, I’m on SportsCenter with you. That’s amazing.
Scott (laughing): Glad we could be part of your special day. I’m sure our viewers are as well. But I have to ask you, Travis—and many people will wonder—is this too much, too soon, for someone your age to handle?
Travis: Well, it’s always been my dream to play quarterback for the Gators, ever since I was young. And—
Scott: And just how young was that, Travis?
Travis: Maybe since I was nine or ten. If it wasn’t the Gators, if it wasn’t Coach G., I probably wouldn’t have accepted. But this is a dream come true, a kind of destiny for me.
Scott: I understand you have an older brother, Carter, who’s currently a freshman on the Gainesville football team.
Travis: Yes, sir. I hate to admit this, because we have a real rivalry going. But Carter’s probably the reason I got the scholarship. It’s made me a better player, training with him.
Scott: Sounds like you two have a strong relationship. Travis, you still have a long road ahead of you. There’s a final year of middle school and then four years of high school before you reach your goal of playing football at Gainesville. What will you do to keep yourself on track over that time?
Travis: I’ll keep working on my game, trying to improve. I’m going to spend a lot of time in the weight room getting stronger. And just try to be a better recruit, not to disappoint Coach Goddard. He really believes in me.
Scott: I think I can speak for our viewers as well when I say that I’m rooting for you, Travis. In five years, I hope to see you lead the Gators onto the field in Gainesville. Enjoy the journey, my young friend.
Travis: Thanks. I’ll try my best.
Travis hangs up the phone.
Mom (softly): Yaaaay!
Mom smothers Travis with a hug.
* * *
Right after my interview on ESPN, Dad called back.
“I just want to make sure you realize what you’ve been handed here,” he said. “That you’re ready for this and willing to work hard.”
“Don’t worry, I am,” I told him. “Coach G. knows what he’s looking for in a prospect. He really sees something in me, like maybe I was born to do this.”
“You still need to make a realistic plan,” he said. “You’ll have to take stock of where you’re headed, make yourself a workable map to get there.”
“I’ve got Mom and you to help out with that,” I told him. “All I have to concentrate on is football. That’s just fun to me. I can’t think of anything I want to do more.”
For something like an hour, we talked about how my interview had gone, about playing quarterback, and about my future. It felt like every second of that conversation was about us. It felt like he was really Dad again, not somebody who had an obligation to call. Like he didn’t have a job that was more important than me, or another family. There wasn’t a single word about swim meets or problems over me being a lefty. And even though I knew he was calling from California, I almost let myself believe he’d be coming home that night.
Carter’s Take
I was sitting in a meeting room with the rest of our receivers, waiting for the coaches to arrive. The seniors had been giving me a ton of static for refusing to carry their shoulder pads to practice. But I didn’t care about any freshman tradition. I was here to be a football player, not a pack mule.
“You still got a lot to learn,” whispered Alex from the seat next to mine. “Remember, you’re a freshman. When one of these seniors tells you to carry their pads, you do it. No questions asked. And you better smile about it. Or else a dozen of them will jump you after practice and duct-tape you to a goal post.”
“I’m not bowing down to anybody whose job I’m trying to take,” I said.
“There’s a big difference between how you can act on the field and off it. Between the white lines, yeah, rock ’em. Hit ’em in the mouth,” said Alex. “But for now, before you’ve even played a single game as a Gator, in the dorm, on the sidelines, and in meetings—you’re the low man. It’ll be over after this season. I went through it, same as you. Your turn will come. That’s the natural order of things.”
“I’m tired of waiting my turn. Seems like there’s always somebody ahead of me who shouldn’t be. I want to make sure things are different here.”
“You’re my roommate. That means I’m responsible for you, to teach you how it goes. Don’t embarrass me—especially with both of us being from Alachua. Being roommates, that’s supposed to make us closer than brothers on this team.”
“Yeah? What’s closer than brothers?” I asked.
I already knew Alex was an only child. That it was just him and his mother.
“I don’t have any blood brothers. But I’ve got more than one hundred football brothers on this team. I’ve got their backs and they’ve got mine. Inside of that circle, there’s family.” Alex interlocked his fingers. “Maybe one day I won’t just call you brother. I’ll call you fam. But that’s still a ways off. Something you’ve got to earn.”
Coach Harkey came into the meeting room and walked up to me.
“Hey, Gardner, I’ll need your brother’s cell phone number.”
“Uh, sure, Coach,” I answered, reaching into my sweats for my phone, while my brain tried to make sense of his request. “Why?”
“I want to start him off on a proper conditioning program,” answered Harkey. “It’s going to be easy for him to think he has to overdo it.”
“Overdo what?”
“Haven’t you heard? Coach Goddard offered him a scholarship about an hour ago.”
“What? Is this some kind of joke?” I asked, shooting Alex a quick look and watching for his expression. I figured those seniors were messing around with me for not carrying their shoulder pads to practice.
“No joke, Gardner. He’s the newest Gator—five years down the line. It’s already been reported in most of the media outlets. Now, have you got that number for me or what?” Harkey asked.
“You mean this is for real?”
“I’m way too busy to play games,” Harkey said as he copied the number off my phone.
Soon as Harkey left, the seniors in the room let the disses fly.
“Gardner made such a bad impression, Coach G. went to Pop Warner to replace him.”
“We should make him carry his little brother’s shoulder pads.”
I said to Alex, “This is completely insane.”
“Why? Sounds exactly like what you were asking for,” Alex replied. “You’re not the low man anymore. You got your baby brother beneath you.”
“Or way over me,” I said, before I stood up and left to call Mom.
Chapter 6
Carter found out about my scholarship before I could tell him. He called Mom to talk about it. Then, after a while, she handed off the phone to me.
“Hey, bro, you coming to live here in the athletes’ dorm? I’m looking for somebody to wash my underwear,” Carter said.
“Sorry, it’s gonna be five years. Maybe you’ll learn how to do them yourself by then,” I said, loving every word of it.
“How’s it feel?” he asked.
“You know the feeling. Great. Just great.”
“Technically, we won’t be teammates. I’ll graduate before you ever get here.”
“Then I’ll have to meet up with you in the pros,” I said. “Throw my first NFL touchdo
wn pass your way.”
“I wouldn’t be against that.”
“Oh, and remember, I won,” I told him.
“Won what?”
“The race to be on SportsCenter.”
“I guess that one’s yours,” he said. “You have the Powerball numbers for tonight, lucky bro? I hear it’s up to twenty-five mil.”
“How about our uniform numbers? Twelve for me. Eighty-five for you. How many more do you need?”
“Forget it. You might have used up your luck for a lifetime,” he said. “Anyway, I’ll see you for dinner tomorrow tonight.”
“Dinner?” I asked.
“It’s Mom’s idea. She’ll tell you,” Carter said. “Seriously, though—good going today. If you need any advice on becoming a Gator, I’ll be here for you.”
“Thanks. I really appreciate it.”
“And listen, if it rains, make sure to stay inside. The way you’ve been beating the odds lately, you might get struck by lightning.”
“Ha, ha. That’s so funny.”
* * *
The news about my scholarship spread fast. Starting at around four o’clock, kids and neighbors from around my way were knocking at our front door, wanting to congratulate me. Guys on my Pop Warner team, including Damon, kept stopping by, one after another. I invited them all inside to see my new room. Then Mom decided to make a run to the supermarket for soda and chips, and the party was on.
“I can’t believe this is happening to somebody I know,” said Damon. “Yesterday, you were just a regular kid, like the rest of us.”
“I still am,” I said. “I just know where I’m playing college football.”
“Yeah, but that’s so huge,” he said. A bunch of other guys nodded. “It’s like you don’t have to worry anymore. That’s your Willy Wonka Golden Ticket right there.”
All I knew for sure was that I was totally stoked and wanted a football in my hands more than anything. I organized a game of touch in the street outside my house. There were seven of us, so we played three-on-three, and I was all-time QB for both sides.
My left arm was feeling like fourteen-karat gold. I must have thrown five straight touchdowns. In one play, I even told somebody to make his cut between a pair of parked cars. I stood there with total confidence and laid the ball perfectly between a black Lincoln and a silver SUV. I spiraled it maybe four inches over the Lincoln’s roof rack, right into my receiver’s hands.
