by Navi' Robins
“Aiden, we need you to tear them to pieces now! I know we are all tired but going into overtime or tying with these guys won’t cut it. We need to win, right here, right now!”
As we walked towards the line of scrimmage the crowd was on its feet. The noise was so loud it was obscene and I’m sure the crowd woke up God himself if he was sleeping. Once the crowd saw us form up in a running formation they began to go completely insane. I was afraid the police would show up and shut us down. The energy from the crowd surged right through me. I could feel their energy, excitement, joy and optimism. I never fully understood why home games were so important and how the crowd could in fact change the entire outcome of a game. But today on this Friday night, against the best team in Illinois and possibly the Midwest, it all made sense to me. Their energy fueled our ambition to win. We played harder, were more focused and we believed in our ability to beat this superior team.
We wanted more of their energy and we had to earn it by playing like superheroes. And today we played like the Avengers and I was the Incredible Hulk ready to smash all in my path to the end zone. We only had time for one more play. If we blew this play we would go into overtime and we were all too exhausted to continue to contend with the monster of a team across from us. They would surely win if we did. Most of us were prepared to dispel every ounce of energy we had left for this last play. After this play I wouldn’t be surprised if the entire team passed out on the field.
Everything began to move slowly and the snap count sounded like a song being played very slow. I was focused and prepared to give my last ounce of energy for the next play and the win. We had to win this, it would send a message to the other high school teams that Deerfield High had arrived and we weren’t going anywhere but to the championship. I kept my eyes on Brian, reading every motion he made; I wanted to make sure that whatever he did I was prepared and in the right spot to make a play. It didn’t matter if I was rushing, blocking, catching, or just running interference for someone else to make the play. It didn’t matter; all that mattered was that I was where I was needed at the exact moment.
“HIKE!!!”
Ball in hand, Brian stood straight up, surveying the field…it was a pass play and I quickly sprinted downfield towards the end zone. As soon as I crossed the line of scrimmage I found myself tightly flanked by three defenders. I’d been hurting their defense all day and they were not going to let me do it again. Not on this play, not at this moment. I glanced back to see Brian readying himself for a Hail Mary pass, so I picked up speed. No one on the opposing team’s defense had the speed to keep up with me, so I quickly found myself alone once I increased my speed. I glanced over my shoulder and could see the ball headed towards my direction. As I watched its descent I noticed that Brian had overthrown the ball and I needed to get more speed under me if I was to be at the spot where that ball was headed.
I gritted my teeth and willed my tired legs to move even faster. I could hear the opposing team’s defensive players breathing behind me, trying to catch me and break up the play. I could see the goal line in front of me and I glanced over my shoulder and noticed the ball was just a few feet ahead of me…it was going to cross the goal line before I did. So as I ran I dove forward, stretching my hands out in front of me.
To be honest I wasn’t sure if the ball would land directly in my hands or not, but this was the only way I would get remotely close to catching that ball. As my hands crossed the goal line I saw the ball fall directly in front of my helmet and land in my hands. The ball began moving and it seemed like it would fall from my fingertips, so I pulled the ball towards my chest and curled up, still in midair. This landing was gonna hurt and hurt bad. I felt the pain through my entire body as my back hit the turf and I slid, scraping skin from my arms and elbows. The pain was sudden and intense like someone was running a hot iron across my arms, but I kept the ball on my chest and cuddled in my arms, never letting it touch the ground.
I started to roll and after three rolls I came to a stop. The crowd was quiet and still, I could hear myself breathing clearly with no interruptions. I felt the rumble of the players running on the turf towards the end zone; like thunder from a coming storm. I looked down towards my chest and there it was. The ball safely cuddled in my arms and braced against my chest. We did it! We won! I quickly jumped to my feet with ball in hand and raised the ball in the air in triumph. The crowd went insane! The rumbling from the stands sounded like an earthquake. I started walking towards my teammates, smiling and pointing at Brian acknowledging that he threw a great pass, when out of nowhere a referee blew his whistle claiming an incomplete pass!
The time on the clock had expired and the opposing team began celebrating after hearing the referee’s call. Coach became furious and ran over to the ref demanding an explanation. The ref quickly shunned his questioning and turned his back to him. I couldn’t believe it. I knew I caught that ball and it never touched the ground, not once, not even as I rolled (I made sure my arms stayed between the ball and the turf). I dropped the ball and placed both of my hands on my knees and leaned forward. My blood was boiling as I realized that this referee was willing to cheat us out of a much-deserved win. We had given it our all and we deserved this win and he wanted to take it away from us. I pressed my fingertips against my knees as if I wanted to dig deep into my own flesh and tear out my kneecaps in anger. I could hear the ref screaming:
“He dropped the pass! He dropped the pass!”
Those words felt like daggers penetrating my ears and skull.
“He dropped the pass”?
By now my anger was on full tilt and I snatched my helmet off because I found it increasingly hard to breathe now with it on. But it wasn’t the helmet that was keeping me from taking in air. It was my blood sizzling anger; all I could think about was smashing my helmet across the face of the cheating referee.
After hearing the referee a few more times claim I dropped the pass, I couldn’t take it anymore and rushed over towards him. The referee must have seen the look in my eyes because he quickly turned and fled towards the stands. Coach was too busy arguing with the other refs, so he didn’t see me give chase after the ref. Brian did, and he immediately began to pursue me.
“Aiden, no,” Brian warned me while trying to chase me down.
I could hear Brian behind me but I was too engulfed in my anger to give his warning a second thought.
“I didn’t drop that pass and you know it! You’re a liar and a cheat! I’ll break your neck!” I yelled as I chased the ref.
By now the referee was frantically climbing the stairs towards the stands, thinking that maybe the crowd would offer him some form of protection. In my mind no one in that crowd or any other crowd he may try and flee to would be able to protect him from my wrath. He deserved to die and I was going to give him his just due.
I started making my way up the stands, gritting my teeth all the way, thinking about all the damage I was going to do to that lying head of the ref, but before I could get halfway up the stands I was intercepted by four suits that surrounded me. I recognized one of the suits from the visit they made at my house. He smiled, leaned towards me, and spoke in my ear.
“What is it with you young people today? So quick to turn to violence to work out your problems. Now why are you chasing this man? What are your intentions once you’ve caught him? Are you planning on doing to him what you did to Steve?”
The question caused my body to freeze in place.
“I may not be able to prove it currently but I know you had something to do with Steve’s death, and I won’t stop until I have you in custody, young man. Now, if I were you I would turn my ass around and go about your business while you still have the freedom to do so, because soon you will be the property of the Federal Government and then…well, I’m sure you’ve heard the rumors.”
I looked at the agent and without thinking smiled and responded,
“That’s a lot coming from a person too afraid to look me in the eyes when
he throws down a challenge.”
The agent chuckled at my comment and said, “Don’t worry, you will see my eyes soon enough, but you won’t be in a football uniform but something less fashionable.
“Well, make sure you get me the right-sized Agent Smith…I know how you guys hate things not fitting the description.”
What was I doing?
It was like I was standing there watching myself challenge and stare down a federal agent with no care or fear for what he could do to me. I was outnumbered, and saying the wrong thing could land me in a holding cell. But with all the things that could go wrong with me running my mouth, I had no reservations in going back and forth with this agent. A man who does this for a living, who catches high- profile criminals as part of his monthly quota, this is the kind of person I decided to throw down the gauntlet with. I had officially lost my mind.
By this time, the ref noticed I’d been stopped by the suits, so he came down the stands and looked at me and said,
“Young man, you are reckless and I am ejecting you from this game, and I will also recommend you be suspended for the remainder of the season for threatening an official.”
The agents began to move away from me but not before the lead agent made a gesture that he was watching me.
Douche bag
“Now, step aside, young man,” demanded the referee, “otherwise I will have those men arrest you and I will press charges.”
I slowly moved out of the ref’s way without taking my enraged eyes off him. By then Brian had caught up with me in time to hear the ref’s decision to eject me and the possible season suspension. Brian held his head down and started walking back on to the field to prepare for overtime play. As he walked past me the referee bumped my shoulder and said,
“In what world did you think you lived in that would allow you to believe you would beat this team? You lost this game before you even stepped on the field and I’m just here to make sure you understand what world you really live in.”
His admission to cheating was more than I could bear, but with the agents watching there was nothing I could do, even though I was so mad I was considering breaking his neck anyway.
“Now I want you off this field immediately! Otherwise, you will be arrested.”
I waited in the locker room for the game to be over. I could hear the crowd’s groans as the game began to slip away from our team into the hands of the opposition as overtime came to a close. As I predicted, we lost the game by three points and I was facing a season-long suspension in a couple of days. The atmosphere in the locker room was tragic and the coach was in disbelief at my actions towards the referee. In his office he informed me of the referee’s intentions to not only get me suspended for the entire season but also ban me from playing any high school competitive sports in the state indefinitely. This ref was really trying to ruin my life and due to my hot-headedness, I’d placed my future right in his hands.
I decided not to tell Coach what the referee said to me up in the stands; I mean, what’s the point, right? How could I prove anything? It wasn’t like someone was recording our exchange, so to me it didn’t need to be repeated. The coach was very concerned about my most recent display of aggressive behavior, something no one has ever seen from me. I just told him I’d been trying to deal with the new reality of playing football and I would get it under control. The coach assured me he would fight the ref’s recommendation for the suspension and ban, but he had very little pull in these matters. Still, he would do all he could to help me.
I decided to head straight home after our talk; I needed some time to calm down and figure out what I was going to do. The agent made himself clear about how he felt about me and my possible involvement with Steve’s death. So not only did I have this cheating douche bag of a referee on my ass I also had Agent “Smith” from The Matrix aiming for me as well. Both situations could turn out extremely bad for me and I had no answers about what to do. If Tony was around he might have some kind of advice to give me…but that was no longer an option. On my way home I got a call from Brian asking me to meet him at his father’s furniture store; some of the team was over there just hanging out and he wanted me to roll through to let some steam off. I didn’t feel like being around anyone, but if I was going to beat the ref’s attacks I needed as many people on my side as possible, so I agreed. When I got there half of them were already drunk and the other half was almost there.
Brian’s father’s furniture store has been a Deerfield cornerstone for over fifty years, and over the years it has transformed from a traditional furniture store to an upscale store that included furniture, a café, a bar, and a spa. I didn’t have a clue why anyone would go get a couch, some bourbon, and then a deep-tissue massage all in the same location, but they made money so who was I to judge. Brian kept a key, so even though the store was closed he still had access to the door and the booze. As I walked into the café, he handed me a glass of something and, at that point, with the mood I was in, I didn’t really care what was in it, I just wanted to escape from my current reality.
By the second glass, some of the cheerleaders started walking in and that’s when things got fuzzy. The last thing I remembered was me being handed another glass and one of the cheerleaders saying she wanted me to drink my next shot off her chest and then that was it…nothing…darkness. I really hated blacking out just before I was about to get lucky. It was just wrong on so many levels….
I awoke the next afternoon in my bed with the sound of sirens and flashing lights engulfing my bedroom. My mom came bursting in my room with a look of terror in her eyes.
“Baby, get up and come downstairs now!”
“Mom?”
“Now, baby…please!”
My mom only called me baby when she was terrified about something, mostly our safety. I slowly sat up in bed and looked out the window. From my room’s angle I could make out four police cars and those all-black SUVs that belonged to FBI agents, aka “The Matrix rejects.” All parked in front of our house. Had the agent decided to move ahead and bring me in for questioning? If so, then things were beginning to move a lot faster and maybe I could get to the bottom of what was happening to me and why I was changing. This was a terrifying time for me because I thought I knew what I was capable of, my boundaries, and my principles; but since the beginning of the new school year all those safe zones had been invaded and all the walls torn down and what was left was as foreign to me as the surface of Saturn. I decided to just go downstairs and face whatever they had in store. It made no sense to prolong the obvious.
When I got downstairs the scene was even more dramatic. There had to be at least ten regular Deerfield officers in our living room and six suits. The suits always came in a group of six. Even at the game, four of them surrounded me and two more were not far off, just watching and waiting. Agent “Smith” was watching me walk down the stairs with this arrogant smirk on his face, similar to the smirk I got from Jasmine when she put me in that dark abyss. I was really beginning to despise smirks.
“Have a seat, son,” the agent commanded, pointing towards the armchair directly across from where he was standing.
“I’m not your son,” I snapped back.
I looked towards my mom who was standing by the front door, and the look on her face, hearing me snap at the agent, was a look of sheer terror. She was looking at me like she didn’t know who I was.
“Okay, you are correct, you are not my son, but nonetheless we have some questions for you.”
“We?”
“Yes, me and my associates.”
“Associates…” I chuckled, rolling my eyes. Okay, shoot…What would you like to know?”
“Where were you last night around 8:30 p.m.?”
“I was hanging out with friends.”
“Where?”
“At Brian’s parents’ furniture store.”
“At 8:30 p.m.?”
“That’s what I said.”
“Well, that’s strange becau
se they all claim that no one was at the store after 8:00 p.m. and you left around 7:45 p.m.”
“Really?”
“Yes, we corroborated their stories with their parents and other people who saw them yesterday evening. So again I ask where were you around 8:30 p.m. last night?”
“I don’t remember.”
“You don’t remember?”
“No, I don’t…is there an echo in here?”
“Now how could that be?”
“Because I was drunk…”
I heard my mom gasp when those four words spilled out my mouth. The look on her face spelled doom for me and my social life until I was forty.
“So is it customary for you to not remember anything while you are partaking in underage drinking?”
“I don’t know because I don’t customarily partake in underage drinking, but seeing the day I had yesterday I figured what the heck. So are you gonna arrest me for drinking?”
“The drinking part is the least of your worries.”
“Excuse me? How is that the least of my worries when that’s what this is about, right? The shop being open with teenagers drinking?”
“No, this is a murder investigation.”
“What?!”
“Yes, the referee who you so clearly threatened to break his neck was killed last night.”
“How?”
“Funny you should ask that, Aiden. Someone broke his neck.”
I began to feel sick to my stomach and wanted to hurl right there. I was judging the distance between me and Agent Smith and was hoping that if I did hurl I would cover his entire face and those smug shades he wore. That would make this day a little brighter.
“Are you okay, Aiden? You look like you need some water or something.”
I swallowed to prevent myself from losing it.
