Infinity. (Infinity Series) (28 page)

“Add what the rest of the world does to my ‘I don’t give a fuck’ list.” My lips curl up in a smirk. “Decision. Is. Final.”

“Can you at least explain why?” Aiden asks finally sounding resolved in my decision. He flops back dramatically in the chair across from my desk.

I settle back in my plush leather chair getting comfortable. He wants a reason? I’ll give him a reason. “On my wedding night, my wife told me a story, and I’m going to share it with you.” I don’t bother letting him respond before I continue. “Prince Edward was heir to the British throne. He began dating an American woman who was also twice divorced. When his father died, he became the King of England.” I pause and look at Aiden, whose face is clearly reflecting his thoughts. He thinks I’ve lost my mind.

“I’m answering your question, ass wipe. Follow along,” I instruct.

He salutes me, and I continue. “Parliament went ape-shit. The king couldn’t be associating with a commoner and an American. Instead of his reign being marred in controversy, he abdicated the throne to his little brother, choosing the girl over the kingdom. They ran away to France to avoid the hounding press, and lived the rest of their lives together.”

“And,” Aiden says, motioning for me to continue.

“After listening to that story on our wedding night, I told Charlie that I understood why King Edward gave up everything: his birthright. I couldn’t live without her. None of this would mean shit,” I reply, motioning to all my sports memorabilia in my office. “What I’ve come to realize is this. All the gold rings and titles in the world don’t mean anything if I don’t have my wedding ring.” I pick up my hand, pointing to the ring that Charlie made for me after she proposed. “And the title of husband and father are my everything. And for me to keep those I have to bid my mistress farewell.”

“But Charlie’s not going back to Houston. She’s on bed-rest, growing your twin spawn. You can play one more year. Maybe even two or three more. You’re only thirty-four. You could play until you’re forty.” Aiden tries reasoning with me. “She’s now a full-time stay-at-home mom.”

I don’t miss a beat. “That might be true. I might physically keep Charlie in Dallas, but my mistress demands too much of me. I have so many regrets about the first year of Ainsley’s life. I wasn’t there when Charlie went into labor. I didn’t see my daughter crawl or take her first steps. Hell, she called another man
Da Da
. I’m done beating myself over the things that I wish I’d done and said. These twins will know their father. I won’t miss a second of their lives. Not one single second.”

My best friend stands and I walk around my desk, joining him. He pulls me into tight hug. “Thanks for letting me take this ride with you. Who knew when I punched you in your face in fourth grade that it would lead us to this point? I love you.”

I give him much more than a bro-hug back. “You’re the brother that I always wanted.”

It’s just Bertha and I on my drive to meet with the team executives. Aiden insisted on taking his rental car. I’m sure he’s hoping that this alone time will give me some sort of clarity that he thinks I need. I don’t. Since I was around thirteen years’ old and showed a talent for playing football, my life has been owned by others. Sure, my parents were great and supported me by nurturing my talent. I never chose to play ball though. It was just expected of me. God gives you a gift; you use it. Universities started recruiting me heavily during my sophomore year in high school. Not once did anyone ask me if I wanted to play college football. Once again, it was expected that of course, I would take the scholarship to Texas A&M.

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.

I take a moment to look at the audience. The room is swollen with reporters. My impromptu press conference is filled with the who’s who of sports media. There’s also some mainstream news agencies that I recognize. Did the Entertainment channel send a reporter? Bizarre.

I’m wearing a faded pair of dark jeans that Charlie thinks make my butt look hot. I decided to wear my Super Bowl winner T-shirt as a positive message to my fans, and I have a Dallas Cowboys baseball hat on. I know that this press conference is going to be played ad nauseam on ESPN and all the other sports channels. And now, apparently the mainstream news and gossip rags. At least if I have to watch it hundreds of times, I’m happy with how I look.

I tap the mic ensuring that it’s on, take a deep breath, and let it out slowly before I begin speaking. “Thanks so much for y’all coming in on a Sunday. I know you thought you were getting your weekends back now that football season is over.”

There’s a collective group of chuckles that fill the room.

Pausing for a second, I clear my throat before I continue. “I’ve thought about how to say this and have decided that there is no good or bad way, so I’m going to cut to the chase. I’ve asked you all here to announce my retirement from the game of football.”

There are gasps that fall across the reporters gathered. It’s not too often that they don’t know what’s going to happen in a press conference, hence why I wanted it announced today. No spoilers or leaks. I have to leave the game my way—not on the media’s terms. I feel like my whole adult life has played out in the press. I want to own this moment. This is my farewell speech. My swan song. I’ve got to exit on my terms.
I did it my way…

And it feels so damn good.

“It’s been my honor to play quarterback for the Dallas Cowboys organization. I have loved every second that you’ve allowed me to throw the football. My proudest accomplishments are bringing home not one, but two Super Bowl Championships to this franchise, to the great city of Dallas, and to the state of Texas. I’m honored to have played with some of the finest men in the sport that I also call my friends.”

I notice that one of the male sports reporters who’s covered my whole career is crying. Like, a grown man has red-rimmed eyes. In that moment, I realize that my announcement is so much bigger than just me, my family, my team. Me leaving the game of football in my rearview mirror also affects the reporters who I see after every game. A lot of them are the good guys of the media. They never asked me about my personal life, and always directed pointed, fair, questions my way. Their criticisms of my play were usually dead on. I respect these guys so much, and feel myself getting a bit choked up. I clear my throat again.

“I’m sure you want to know why. The best answer that I know how to give is that I want to go out at the top of my career. And two-time Super Bowl-winning, two-time MVP is about as top as I can get.

“Now, I’m ready to begin a new chapter in my life. I’m not sure what that entails yet. I’m going to spend at least a week doing nothing.” I laugh. Doing nothing but making sure my wife, carrying our twins, is healthy and my daughter is happy sounds like bliss right about now. “But, I do know that it includes the jobs of being a husband and father.

“I don’t wish to take any questions at this time. However, I’d like to say thank you to the Cowboys organization and the city of Dallas for your faith and support in me. And to Texas A&M… Gig’em.”

The flash of bulbs is almost blinding, and the clicks from cameras fill the air. Then there is the blanket of whispers, gasps, and sharp intakes of breath. I think I pulled off the impossible. I shocked the media. That makes my half-smile break across my face.

I turn around and exit off the stage slipping behind the curtain, leaving the cacophony of noises behind. Fortunately, there is a chair close by, and I all but sink into it. It’s over with. Done. Finished. My football career is in the books, left for the media and fans to scrutinize. History will make the final judgment on my career. Aiden says that I’m being selfish, but at this moment, I just don’t care what anyone thinks.

I sigh and close my eyes, ignoring the phone buzzing like crazy in my pocket. None of the messages are from Charlie, and she’s the only person that I want right now.

Aiden joins me claiming the seat next to mine. We sit in silence, listening to the different members of the Cowboys’ organization talk about the team’s future. They drone on and on, assuring everyone that there’s a plan in place for my replacement, and that this is why we have an off-season and a draft. The Cowboys are going to be just fine.

Aiden is the first one to speak. He leans forward and turns, facing me with a smirk on his lips. “Hey jizz stain. I think that was the equivalent to a mic drop.”

I chuckle. “You think?”

It’s amazing how great I feel. For the first time in memory, my chest is relaxed and able to expand freely.
God, what an incredible feeling.

“You know every news station is going to lead with George singing, ‘The Cowboy Rides Away,’” he quips.

“
My heart is sinking like a setting sun
,” I speak with a rueful laugh as a smile cracks across my face.

Aiden adds, “
Setting on all the things I wish I’d done
.”

So, of course, I have to chime in as I tap my foot to the imaginary beat. “
It’s time to say goodbye to yesterday
.
”

Then the two of us smile and give each other the look. It’s the look all boys have before they have to meet with the principal over something bad they’ve done. We’re mischievous fourth-graders again. Together we sing, “
This is where the cowboy rides away
.”