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+---- Thread: *Gameday (/showthread.php?tid=21755)
*Gameday - Cheech65 - 04-28-2020
Gameday, Or the Uneasy State Between Hype and Insecurity
The alarm rings loudly at 9:00. Clark Boyd sits up in bed, completely alert. After all, he’s been awake for the last half an hour. 10 hours of sleep was more than enough it seems. The day has come. Preseason opener is tonight. He’s TE2, playing alongside the best the DSFL has to offer. There is no time to kid around. But then again, that means traditions must be followed properly. He throws off the blankets, and swings his legs around the side of the bed, stretching his toes. His feet meet the carpeted floor gently. The morning routine has officially begun.
Even in high school, Clark has followed the same traditions on game day. First, he slips on a team shirt, the bright purple and green of the Myrtle Beach Buccaneers glowing in the early morning light as it seeps through the blinds. He moves to the foot of his bed, stretching his whole body out, killing any tension developed overnight. A stretch first thing out of bed tends to wake Clark up better than anything else. Next, breakfast consists of 3 scrambled eggs, a bowl of oatmeal, a banana, an orange, and a big mug of coffee, served black.
Next stop, bathroom. Clark looks at himself in the mirror. To shave or not to shave? He picks up his buffalo nickel up off the counter top. Like for his father before him, this is not his decision. He flips the coin, it lands heads. Not to shave it is. A quick trim and combing and his beard is set. Time to go.
Headphones, water, sneakers, and a change of clothes get thrown in a duffel. Lunch is packed away, a turkey sub and a couple of Clif bars. Clark dons his outfit for the day: a stark white shirt in a jet black suit. Freshly polished Oxfords over team color socks. The game day tie looks as good as the day he got it, a silk British-striped tie, gold on black. He pulls the box out of his dresser and slips on his lucky ring, an heirloom gift left to him by his grandfather. The dented silver band slid perfectly into place on his middle finger.
His parents were already on their way, their flight arriving later that morning. They’d be at the game early. The team was meeting offsite to go over film and the playbook, a luxury afforded by the late game time. Clark drove over to the training center, arriving not too early and not too late.
For Clark, the meeting was uneventful. He’s not the starter, and he’s a diligent, if not obsessive teammate. He may not be the best or most creative play maker, but he knows how to do his job. He sees himself as a member of the team; a cog in the machine. He is a tool to be used as the user sees fit. That’s how he’s always played and that’s how he’ll continue to for however long his career goes.
Despite the lack of attention-grabbing at the meeting, the hype builds. A home game for the preseason. The boys are all buzzing with energy. Boarding the team bus for their arrival at the stadium, it hits him. It’s really game time. In only a few short hours, it’ll all be in full swing. Taking his seat, Clark slips his headphones on, and plays some mellow music. He closes his eyes, not to sleep, but to find a place of calm and meditation. A clear mind is underrated and essential in entering a game, at least in Clark’s eyes.
Unfortunately, this calm does not come easy. As usual, Clark is bombarded by his concerns. He is flooded by a surge of memories: dropped passes in games at Rutgers, misread routes in practice, even light tackles that he could have fought through and did not. His mind becomes a film session, analyzing and criticizing his past errors and faults. Though from the outside, Clark seems relaxed, even asleep, his mind is a lecture hall. He tries to do this before every game. This way, his actions are all in his control. He knows what he and others may do wrong, and therefore he knows how to avoid or overturn these actions. By the time he steps on the field, Clark can be in total control, ready for anything. This sense of ease is born from a sense of dread, but the confidence it brings is invaluable.
Fans are outside cheering as the team unloads from the bus. The cheers are not unexpected, but certainly have the same effect every time. Trying to stay professional, Clark simply makes his way to the locker room, albeit with a bright grin on his face. Waking into the brightly colored room, he sees his name and jersey hanging up, waiting for him to don them. But the time isn’t right. He sits down to eat, turning his music off and spending some time with his teammates. Time passes as Clark finishes his food, downs a bottle of water, and begins to change out of his suit, which he hangs up in the locker. People gradually get their kits on and head out to get moving. Now is the time for action.
Changing into his game socks and pants, Clark takes off his Buccaneers shirt, switching for a more comfortable Under Armour tank. As he slips into his pads and uniform, the focus finally clicks. It’s game time. He takes his ring off, rubbing it with his thumb as he puts it in his locker. He takes his gloves off the locker shelf, tucking them in the front of his pants. He grabs his helmet and heads out of the locker room and into the tunnel. Time to warm up, no more time to worry. As the cool breeze rushes into him from the field, all tension leaves his body. With his head screwed on tight, all doubts are gone. The sound of the crowd drowns out all insecurities. The light swallows him up as he leaves the tunnel, the future bright despite its inherent uncertainty.
Here's to the start of a great season!
