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+---- Thread: *A Statement From Mr. Espeeyeeseetee: (/showthread.php?tid=16877)
*A Statement From Mr. Espeeyeeseetee: - br0_0ker - 12-09-2019
There are few moments in life that define the type of person you are or who you will become. For most of us, we get caught up in the day-to-day mundane cycles of life; as creatures of habit humans are wont to fall into the familiar. But every now and then, life throws you a curveball, makes you think about what it means to be alive, what it means to be human, and what the future may hold in store for you. As I sit here, speaking these words out loud to a room with only two other people in it, my agent/lawyer Mr. Steelsound and the ghost writer I hired to transcribe my thoughts to written word, I can barely think straight and for the first time in many, many years my focus is broken and I am unsure about my future. To the few who ultimately will read this, thank you for taking time to hear my words. I know that many do not know my background or the story of the Espeeyeeseetee family, so let me give a brief history before I continue...
My parents were poor, unskilled laborers who had spent most of their lives as farmers in North Korea. They met during the annual potato harvest, and fell in love almost immediately. When they learned my mother was pregnant, they vowed to escape the nightmare that is the North. Before I was born, they made a harrowing journey beneath the DMZ to the South in an attempt to birth me into a free land, to give me at least the opportunity of choice so that I could have even the remotest possibility of a future they never could have dreamt of. My childhood was spent looting trash bins for scrap in the worst parts of Seoul. My parents could never find legitimate work, not bearing the necessary paperwork to prove they were legal immigrants, but they had assured me my future was secure, having been born on South Korean soil. To me, the experience was not so bad, as I had no other life to compare it to: the cold nights in the street when we would huddle together since we were all we had, not even a roof over our heads, or the long days with little food in our bellies, this was just normal to the little boy they had decided to name Ahri. I didn't have a chance to socialize with other kids much, since I was often busy just working with my parents to get enough scrap to pay for our next meal, nor would most people really make an effort to reach out to the rag-tag scroungers that floated around the parts of Seoul we called home. I never thought much of the future, as there wasn't much time for introspection during our daily trash-dives. That is, not until after the day my dad disappeared.
We were told he had been recognized by some North Korean officials, who used to go slumming in the South when they were allowed to go on vacation. I'm not sure how they recognized some poor potato farmer that had escaped years ago, but recognize him they did and back to the North he went. We had maintained some sparse communication with the extended family my parents had left behind in the North, and when it became clear that there was no chance my father would be able to escape again, my mother made the decision that she and I would go to America. We stowed away on one of the many freighters that would ship cheap electronics to the States, and eventually we made home in the state of Pennsylvania. My mom did her best to scrape a living together for us, but shortly after we arrived,we got a letter saying that my dad was dead. It had been hard enough for my mom to leave my father behind in Korea, and the news of his death broke her. She died of grief not long after receiving the news, and I was left to fend for myself in the Land of Opportunity. It wasn't very long after my mother passed, I was sitting in the bleachers at Pine-Richard, just thinking about my life and what the future held for me. I sometimes snuck onto their practice field to daydream about playing there myself someday. That night was probably the first time I had really sat and thought about a legitimate future for myself, and it was overwhelming. I looked up to give a silent prayer to my deceased parents, to ask for some sort of sign to guide me, and the sky started to light up with the most intense meteor shower I had ever seen. It was exactly the sign I was looking for, since we had a bit of a history with shooting stars, going back to the stories they would tell me when we still lived in Seoul. I jumped to my feet, and saw the jugs machines the coaches sometimes would leave out for their morning practice, and vowed to myself I would become a professional football player, starting that night with practicing on those machines. I loaded up the jugs, the sky shining bright with streaks of falling stars, and I'll tell you what, I felt deep down inside my soul that this was exactly what I was meant to do. I made it a habit from that night on to hop from practice field to practice field across schools in the area, working on my hands and route running, until one day Coach from St. Joseph's saw me and said I needed to play for them. I decided I would, and thus began my journey as a football player.
As I said before, as humans we are creatures of habit, and our lives often take the form of the routine. I enveloped myself in football and the culture, seeking perfection in every drill I was given and to perform all my responsibilities as a wide-receiver and teammate to the utmost of my ability. I won awards in high school, breaking records both at the local and state levels, and for a time, I forgot about the previous life I had lived. Well, not so much as forgot as I was distracted. The grind was intoxicating, both mentally and physically stimulating, and the high of success was like nothing I had ever experienced. My performances led to me being scouted by the NSFL and DSFL straight out of high school, and, never being one for the tedium of actual schoolwork, I chose to forego a collegiate experience for that of a professional footballer. It seemed at the time that the wishes of that homeless orphaned boy had been granted by a Higher Power, and that I had been guided to a path where, ultimately, I could affect change in the world. You see, in all my time as a football player, in all the hours of film study and practice and drills, I never truly forgot about how miserable my upbringing really had been. Perspective had been given to me, and in the few moments of self-reflection I would allow myself sometimes after a tough game or difficult practice, I would tell myself I would use whatever monetary fortune the pros would give me as a means to raise up others who were stuck in the same situation I had been. Eventually, I was drafted by the Norfolk Seawolves, and my professional journey began, allowing me the possibility to affect that change. Truly, I had never been happier.
It wasn't until the playoffs of the S14 DSFL season that my past came back to the forefront of my mind. I had devoted my entire self to perfecting my craft, and there wasn't much time to think about the past once I got into the pros. But a few days before our game against the Portland Pythons, I started getting calls from a North Korea area code. I didn't know who it was from, as I had long ago come to terms with the fact that most, if not all, of my extended family was dead. It got to me, completely taking me out of focus for the week, and ultimately did affect my performance against those dang snakes (yeah, I'm still bitter about the loss). But what most affected me was the text I got on game day, just four little words that read "its me im out". I had no idea why I thought what I did, but a little part of me immediately knew it was from my dad, and the possibility that he was still alive. I couldn't stop thinking about that text through the entire game, and to tell you the truth my heart wasn't really in it that day. All I wanted to do was hop on a plane and find him. And after the game that's exactly what I did.
I didn't tell anyone where I was going, or even that I was going. I just went. By the time I touched down, the phone line had been disconnected so I had no way to call the number back, and I sorta just wandered around Seoul looking for him. I eventually found him about a month into my search, outside a little athletic shop in downtown, which had my Norfolk jersey on display. He told me he would go and look at that jersey every day, thinking about how I had made it out. If making it to the pros was happiness, what I felt when I found him was sheer jubilation. Angels ascending into Heaven had nothing on me in that moment. My dad told me how proud he was of the person I had become and the ideals I had decided to live by, and that he would support whatever endeavors I would strive toward. On the plane ride back, we began formulating plans for the E-S-P-E-C-T Charity, a little play on words on how the less fortunate in my community would pronounce the word "expect" and, of course, our last name. We wanted people to believe they could expect more from the world and from themselves, that in their self-belief they could become more than the dictates of their circumstances.
I've been on top of the world these past four years, experiencing American culture with my dad and building up my charity. But if any of you are familiar with mountain climbing, then you know that after the climb, once you reach the peak, then comes the descent.
Two weeks ago my dad went missing again. I tried his phone, went to his house, his office at the charity was empty, I could find no indication where he went at any of the spots he would regularly frequent. I didn't know why he would leave without telling me, and I sort of sunk into a bit of a depressive funk. Last week, I received a letter in the mail, bearing the official letterhead of the North Korean State. In it, my father was accused of being a traitor to the State, and that his execution was eminent. It outlined various other crimes for which he was accused, the least of which was the dissemination of North Korean military secrets to the American government. For the first time in my life, I was told that my father was not a poor potato farmer as I had been led to believe, but was rather a lower ranking military officer who had defected in order to not have his child raised by the State. I was instructed to return to North Korea, where I would be questioned and appropriated to the will of the State.
At this time, I don't know if I believe the truth of it, and I don't know what the future holds for me. For the first time in ten years, I am overwhelmed by the world again, unable to see clearly the path I once thought was set for me. I am putting this article out as a means to not only get the word out about what is happening, but also in preparation in case I am the target of an abduction, much as I believe my father was. Even in my uncertainty, there are a few things that are abundantly clear to me in my present situation:
1) I have no intent to turn myself in to the North Korean State. I have never had an affiliation with them, as I was born on the free soil of South Korea and have never made any political or economic endeavors against the North. If my father was implicated in anything of that nature, I was not aware of it nor had any part in it whatsoever.
2) I will continue to play football professionally and build up the E-S-P-E-C-T Charity. I believe in troubling times, it is best to surround yourself with people you care about and devote yourself to a lifelong passion. I care about my team, and am passionate about my charity, so those will be my distraction from this, farce or not. I will singularly focus on continuing to become the greatest wide-receiver the NSFL has ever seen, and strive to affect as many lives as I possibly can through my charity work.
To any and all who read this, know that it is my only intent to bring as much positivity as I can to the world. And if the North Korean State wants to interfere with that, well, they can go rot in hell.
*A Statement From Mr. Espeeyeeseetee: - Huskies311 - 12-09-2019
I’m glad I’m not the only one to still think about our loss to Portland
*A Statement From Mr. Espeeyeeseetee: - ScorpXCracker - 12-09-2019
(12-09-2019, 05:01 PM)Huskies311 Wrote:I’m glad I’m not the only one to still think about our loss to Portland
ughhhhhh
*A Statement From Mr. Espeeyeeseetee: - br0_0ker - 12-09-2019
(12-09-2019, 02:01 PM)Huskies311 Wrote:I’m glad I’m not the only one to still think about our loss to Portland
Glad to see someone caught the line I needed to keep this on topic/related to the league.
NOW GIMME DAT MONEH