“My dad doesn’t want me to play, but I want to play for me. He thinks I’m worthless too because I don’t have the desire to pick up a scalpel. We can’t live the dreams of our fathers. We must live for ourselves. The good news is you have a dad; the bad news is he doesn’t really know how to be there for his son, and I just came in here to tell you . . . so what. Don’t let that ruin you.”
I stuck out my hand, Colby slapped it, and Blake nodded. We were all young men with father drama stories. In the Lions’ locker room we all made a silent pact to not let the tough demeanor of our fathers demoralize us. Maybe being a part of the football team was not so bad after all.
I had been invited to go with Blake, Brenton, Landon, and Leo to grab a bite to eat. When Blake was with Landon and Leo, he was a little wilder. Brenton and I spent most of our time shaking our heads. Landon tried too hard to be cool. Leo was too cool and hard, and Blake was somewhere in the middle.
“I gotta get home, you guys.”
“Wait, no rush, man,” Blake said.
“I got to, Blake,” I said.
“We just wanted to tell you we’re glad you’re on the team.”
It felt good having them all nod and approve of me, but when I got up and headed to the door, Brenton followed. “Amir, I know you gotta go, but I just wanted to make sure we were cool.”
“Just some stuff going on. I’m straight.”
“Call me if you need to talk. You got my digits, right?” Brenton asked as I nodded.
When I got to my house, I felt like something was stuck in my throat when I saw my dad’s car there. There was another car in the driveway, so I thought hopefully he was entertaining a colleague. I could go my way, and he could stay away.
However, as soon as I walked in the door my dad yelled out, “Amir, is that you? Get in here to this family room right now.”
My eyes were wide when I saw Coach Strong standing there. At that moment I knew what all of this was about. When I gave Coach Strong the papers from my parents, I was hesitant. Heck, I was not a liar, but I forged my parents’ names. I just thought that even though Coach looked at me weird like, Are you sure this is on the up and up? I looked back and sort of made him feel confident; at least I thought I made him feel like everything was legit. Yet here he was, standing in my house bringing the stuff to my parents. What was this about? Coach should have just had my back and left well enough alone.
“Yeah?” I said with a little attitude.
“You see, the Lockwood Lions head football coach is here for a visit. He’s been telling your mom and me some very interesting information about you being on his football team and turning in these papers with our signatures of approval on them. The thing is though, son, I haven’t signed anything,” he said sarcastically. I said nothing as he waited for an explanation.
“So I wonder how my signature got on this paper when I specifically told you that you are not playing on anyone’s football team.”
Coach held his hands up and said, “Sir, that’s why I came by. Dr. Knight, I do respect you and your wife. I just had to make sure it was okay for your son to play on my team.”
At that moment I looked at him like, Man, whatever. You are the one who said you wanted me. It is not like coaches don’t look the other way all the time. They give kids money. They have grades changed. They sweep all kinds of trouble under the rugs. They take care of their players’ needs so they can have them on the field. This was nothing new. This was nothing different, and this was nothing that he had to verify.
Coach Strong sensed and saw my anger rising and said, “Amir, don’t look at me like that. I can lose my job if I have a player on my team whose parents don’t want him to play. However, sir, let me say your son is an incredible athlete.”
My dad said, “And, Coach, if you noticed his grades, he’s a heck of a student.”
I could not believe my father was saying that. He was so hard on me, yet he was defending my academics to the coach. It was certainly a surprise.
“Yes, he’s a scholar, and if you couple his academics with his athletic ability, you have something. We still got lots of games to play. Amir has got D1 potential, and the recruiters will be at our school checking out our players because I’ve got quite a few ballers in his junior class with exceptional potential.”
“Well, my son doesn’t need an athletic scholarship. He’s going to get an academic one. While this D1 might be important to you, it means nothing in this household. If he likes athletics so much, he can be an orthopedic surgeon one day and help them out when they’re hurt.”
“Is that what your son wants?” Coach Strong asked my father.
My dad stood stern and said, “I hear you have a son, Coach. Do you care what he wants in your home? I imagine you run a pretty tight ship, which is how I run my home. I imagine you handle your team with purpose, which is exactly how I run my operating room. You want the best players, and I look for the best interns coming out of medical school each year. My son is on a different path than football.”
When my dad tore up the papers, Coach Strong said, “Sorry I wasted your time. Amir, Mrs. Knight, see you all later.”
My father walked him to the door. They shook hands, and my dad shut the door. He gave me a look and briskly came over.
He ranted, “I cannot believe you forged my name, Amir. How could you disregard my wishes? You thought you were going to play anyway. I’ve always told you things will catch up to you. You can’t do things and expect me not to find out. I thought you had so much integrity and that you were a good boy, but you actually forged my name?” he said, pushing me back with his three middle fingers.
Each time he pushed me harder and harder. I was going backwards until I almost fell on the couch. He threw up his hand to slap me, and I was not going to flinch. I wanted him to hit me. I wanted it to be on. It was time for me to show him I was sick of him pushing me around, but he did not slap me. He did not move.
“I can’t believe you did that. I can’t believe you just signed my name.”
So I pushed him back real hard. “Yes, I signed your name. I wanted to play football. I’m almost seventeen. I didn’t think I needed your permission. So what? I’m not like you. I don’t act like you, and I don’t want the same things for myself that you want for me. I’m my own person, Dad.”
“Quit calling me that! Quit saying Dad, like you’re my boy, like you’re my son. The reason you don’t look like me, the reason you don’t act like me . . . is because you’re not my son at all. And stop pushing on me like I’m some kid out there on the football field.”
At that moment I do not even know if he knew what he just said. My mom and I were both frozen. Or was she my mom? This whole thing was confusing. He just said that he was not my dad; I was not his son.”
“What did you just say?” I asked.
“There’s no need for me to sugarcoat it. There’s no need for me to act like everything’s fine. Sixteen years of pure hell. Tell him, Anna. He’s not mine.”
I looked at my mom and the tears in her eyes spoke volumes. She did not have to tell me anything. I knew at that moment what he said was true. It all made sense. He never wanted me because I was never his. I was numb and did not know if this was good news or bad news.
CHAPTER 5
Unexpected Ending
So you’re not my father?” I asked, waiting on an answer from the man who raised me for sixteen years.
He looked over at my mom. She was a basket case. Her face looked like the world had turned upside down. Immediately, my dad wanted to make it right. He came over to me and changed his tune all together.
My dad pleaded, “I’m so sorry. Please, forgive me. That’s not what I meant.”
As he stepped closer to me, I backed away. I asked him a question, but suddenly I did not want to know the answer. However, I certainly did not want him to try and cover it up. No apologies needed.
“How could you do this, Anthony? How could you ruin us like this?” my mom call
ed out.
He tried to go over and console her, but she was beyond wanting empathy. It was the first time I saw how much he cared for her. He truly did not want to let her down. However, emotions were too high. Frustration reared its ugly head.
“Fine, fine, fine,” he screamed and stormed off, leaving the two of us in the family room.
My mother plopped down on the couch. Her face showed how devastated she was. However, I needed the whole truth.
I took her hand, kneeled down, and said, “Mom, what is he talking about? Did you adopt me?”
“No, baby,” she quickly responded.
“You are my biological son.” She kissed my face a few times.
I squeezed her hand to encourage her to continue.
I said, “Mom, come on, talk to me. Is Anthony Jr. Dad’s kid? He looks just like Dad.”
She wiped her eyes and said, “Sit beside me, baby. You’re almost seventeen. I’ve wanted to talk to you about this for a while. Your dad didn’t want me to . . .”
Angrily I screeched, “Don’t call him my dad if he’s not my dad.”
“He is your father. Though he gets angry and upset, he wanted you to know the truth, but he kept saying things were fine and to leave them alone. He was treating you so ugly though.”
“Mom, can you just explain to me what’s happening? What’s going on?”
She took a deep breath and said, “Anthony is your dad’s child and my child. We were married and at first things were great. But early on in his residency, he was keeping long hours at the hospital. I found out that he had affairs with a few nurses. Back then we lived in an apartment building that had a lot of young families. We organized a play group, and there was one stay-at-home dad who kept saying nice things to me. To get back at your father, I was with him one time.”
The news she was giving me was heavy. I was the product of an affair. I didn’t really know how that made me feel.
“Your dad and I had not been together, so he knew immediately when I came up pregnant that it was not his child. He took responsibility because a lot of it was his fault.”
“So he made you go sleep with someone who wasn’t your husband?” I said sarcastically to my mom. She took her hand and smacked me.
“Forget it.” I got up and went to my room. She immediately followed me.
“Amir, I’m sorry. I deserved that. I didn’t mean to slap you. It was terrible, but I was not going to have an abortion. It was my mistake, but I loved my baby,” my mom said. She stroked my face gently and continued, “I loved you from the moment I found out you were growing inside me. I wasn’t going to prevent you from coming into this world. I told your father I would get a divorce, but he didn’t want that. I don’t know . . . I think he hoped the baby would be a girl, and she’d look just like me. But you were you and did not look like me. He hired a private investigator and found out whom I’d had the affair with. He had pictures of the man, and as you got older, you grew from looking cute and innocent to looking more like this man. It just made your father explode.”
“Well, he doesn’t have to worry about it anymore,” I said. I grabbed a duffle bag from my closet.
“What are you doing?” my mom asked in a panicked voice. “You’re not leaving this house, Amir. You are not going anywhere. I love you. You’re my son, and—”
“And what, Mom? And what?”
My dad came to the door and said, “And you shouldn’t have to leave, son. I’m going to go. I overstepped my boundaries, and I’m leaving for a while.”
With a suitcase in his hand, he went to the door as my mom followed him. I fell to my knees and let out tears I was unable to hold back. My mom came back in my room after I heard the front door close. She was on the telephone.
She rubbed my back, and I raised my head when I heard her say, “Hi, Coach Strong, this is Mrs. Knight. You were over not too long ago, and we were discussing Amir. I’ve decided to let him play. If you will still have him on your team, he’ll be at practice tomorrow.” There was a pause. “Yes, he’s right here. Coach wants to speak to you,” my mom said, handing me the phone.
My eyes went from crying to smiling, “Hello, Coach?”
Enthusiastically, Coach Strong said, “Amir, this is great news, young man. I hope there are no hard feelings. I definitely had to make sure that it was cool for you to be on my field. The Lions need you. I need to have an understanding that you won’t lie to me again, son. This coach-player relationship only works when there is honesty. Is that okay with you? Are you ready to play for Lockwood? Are you ready to win a state title?”
“Yes, sir, I’m ready,” I answered with excitement in my voice.
He questioned, “You sure?”
“Sir, I’ve been holding back my urge to get on the football field for a very long time. You saw that I have potential, and you believed in me. I’m gonna give you all I’ve got. I assure you I’m ready.”
“Well, that sounds great. If your mom can bring you to practice to sign the papers, then that’s great.”
“Yes, sir, Coach.”
“Tell your father I said thanks. He’ll see that football is not so bad.”
I held the phone for a minute and said, “Okay, Coach.”
“Everything okay?”
“Not really. But I’d rather not talk about it,” I said, knowing he asked me to be honest.
“Then let’s leave it all for the field. You put your aggression there, and it’ll be okay.”
“Thanks, Coach.”
“Keep your head up. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
When we hung up the phone, I looked at my mom and said, “Mom, you didn’t have to do that.”
“Yes, I did. It’s about time I stood up for my son and allowed him to do some of the things that are in his heart. There are many things in this life that you can be great at. You can be a great lawyer. You can be a great teacher. You can be a great doctor, and you can be a great athlete. Not everyone has the skills, but if you have the talent, then I’m behind you. I should’ve stood up for you a long time ago,” she said with some shame.
Lifting her chin, I said, “Sorry about all this, Mom.”
She hugged me tight, like she wasn’t sure that she’d ever see me again. “Don’t you leave me,” she said, confirming how I knew she felt.
“I don’t want you to go anywhere until it’s time for you to go off to college. Are we clear?”
I looked her in the eyes. I could not believe she stuck up for me, going out on a limb to give me my dream. She even allowed my dad to walk out to restore some peace. Regardless of all the things I had to work out with my dad, I knew without a doubt that I had a mom who loved me and supported me one hundred percent.
“Mr. Wan, thank you for taking my call,” I said to my boss at Cheertowne before school started.
“You say important, Amir. I listen. No problem to make sure you okay,” he said with his Asian accent.
“Sir, I’ve had a remarkable opportunity to have a job at your gym. Helping kids fly has been rewarding. I know putting up with me has been a lot.”
“Yeah, you not on time always. You play in my gym always. I sometimes don’t know who’s teacher and who’s student, but you good, Amir. Please, don’t tell me you go.”
“Mr. Wan, I think I’m gonna try my hand in sports at school. I’m an eleventh-grader, and the football coach wants to use me on his team. I know I’m scheduled for this week. I don’t ever cut out on my responsibilities, and since it’s the last minute, I will be there.”
“No, I play pigskin long ago too when I first got here. I love game. Will come see you play if not benchwarmer,” Mr. Wan teased.
I laughed and said, “I should be playing, sir.”
“Just remember, Amir, nothing given to you in this life. I have high expectations. Make sure you work hard because I want you always remember you can’t just cruise control life. You work hard. Now go be ready for some football.”
My first class was gym. I could not help but to
search around for Hallie. Her class with Coach Woods was going outside to run around the track. My class with Coach Strong was staying in to do gymnastics. I was in my element. I could do the rings. I could vault. I could certainly tumble on the floor. I do not know why, but I just did everything I could to the max. Certainly, I was not trying to show off because I knew showcasing my skills would label me a jerk. I would have guys calling me queer and stuff. However, after I finished tumbling, Brenton and a few guys from the football team rushed up to me with just the opposite reaction.
“All right!”
“Sweet!”
“We want learn.”
I was shocked. Maybe that was a lesson to me. Don’t have expectations or do not think things are gonna be one way or the other, just go out, stay in your lane, and execute. When you give it all you got and leave it all out on the floor, you can get high marks in life.
I went over to the drinking fountain to catch my breath and get some water. Coach Strong came up to me and said, “Amir, thanks for showing these guys that gymnastics is cool.”
I spotted Lexus. She appeared all broken up at that point. I was barely listening to Coach Strong because I was so distracted.
“Are you okay, son? If you ever want to talk about anything, my door is open. I can’t have my players putting their minds elsewhere. Waxton, don’t grab the rings like that, boy. You’ll hurt yourself,” Coach said before having to go back over to the class.
He did not even see Lexus. She was in the corner behind some bleachers, sobbing. Taking a deep breath, I stepped over to her, knowing I should stay away.
She said, “I don’t want to be here anymore.”
“If you don’t feel good, go to the nurse. You can check out of school, I’m sure,” I responded. What was she getting at?
“I don’t wanna be home. I don’t wanna be at the gym. I don’t wanna be at school. I don’t wanna be anywhere. If I can’t have you, I want to die. See, look,” she said. She turned the insides of her palms toward me, and I saw blood gushing from both her wrists.”
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