07-20-2023, 04:57 PM
(This post was last modified: 07-22-2023, 07:14 PM by lemonoppy. Edited 2 times in total.)
I've traveled to Waterdeep, the city of Wonders and Magic, for an exclusive look at the environment that brought up new DSFL prospect Dormo Bloodhand.
I arrived in the city early in the morning by ferry. The docks are on a gradient of quality, and it would appear the ferry docks itself right in the middle. The wood is old and the people clearly experienced and moving with purpose. I am momentarily lost in the hustle of people leaving the ferry, then suddenly alone once again as I look for Dormo and take in the sites. I finally catch sight of the man as he approaches me.
Despite conducting many interviews with athletes, I am always slightly jarred seeing someone live after seeing them on film. Dormo walks at a leisurely pace, the crowd of workers and gawkers sliding out of the way as he approaches their point of intersection. The one time he breaks his straight line is for a group of sailors moving a massive crate on a box-sailed cargo vessel. He flashes one a quick smile, his beard revealing white teeth, although it appears that one has been replaced with a golden replacement. As he closes the distance, I take a step toward him and reach a hand out.
He walks past me, eyes grazing past me.
My initial reaction is disbelief. I had had coorespondence with Dormo and his family, who expressed excitement at getting to talk with me about a sport just catching on in the city. My disbelief begins to turn to indignation. I just traveled countless days to get here, and you are gonna try to big league me? I've had stars treat me better. As I turn to challenge him about it, I see an unexpected sight.
Dormo has a kid, probably no older than twelve, by the arm. In that trapped arm is my wallet, along with a folder featuring my notes and prep work for the interview. Somehow, this child had lifted both off me without me noticing.
But Dormo saw it.
"Kila," Dormo rumbled with a warning tone. "Since when do you work the docks?"
"Hey, you know how it is, big man. Boss says, I do. He with you?" the kid replies, an unapologetic grin on his face.
"He is. He'll be staying with me for the next day or two. I would appreciate you taking that back with you."
"Sure, sure, but I can't come back empty-handed. You know how it goes." Kila counters, the grin replaced with a cunning I wasn't sure I had ever seen on such a young face. Dormo sighs, reaches into a pocket and pulls out a few gold coins. He snatches the papers and my wallet, but leaves the coins. The business concluded, the child Kila runs off, ducking and weaving through the crowd. Dormo turns back to me, the smile back on his face. "Sorry about that, sir. Gotta keep your head on a swivel at the docks." He holds out his hand, clasping mine in a firm but gentle grasp. "Let's get back to the compound and get you something to drink, yeah?"
Walking through Waterdeep is a beautiful sight, and though we don't talk about anything past my trip, Dormo makes a point to point out a number of landmarks on the way to his residence. When we arrive, I realize that "compound" was indeed meant as intended: the Bloodhand family residence is a multi-story building of stunning design, with a courtyard surrounded by a wall. Dormo greets the man at the gate, who I later learn is a cousin named Rolo, and escorts me through the gate. The courtyard is large and well cared for, but where an average residence might contain grass and flowers, only hard-packed dirt lives in the walls. To my left, a mix of young and old family members lift mismatched free weights and body-weight exercises. To the right, two older boys are sparring while being overseen by an elderly man with a cane. I see the cane lash out and trip one of the boys, resulting in a takedown.
These people don't stop their activity as we walk through, but everyone waves or nods to Dormo, who returns them with smiles and waves in return. "Welcome, sir, to the Bloodhand training compound." I point to the flags flying over the front door: the center flag a red handprint on a field of white. Flanking it are a number of other flags: a howling wolf, three hammers connected at the pommel are the two directly flanking, but many other fan out to each side. Dormo laughs and asks me to save the family history questions for his father or grandfather.
The father in question, Crag, is shorter than his son but no less imposing. His blue eyes are piercing and demanding, but he smiles and stands when we fully enter the dining area. He had been sitting at the center of the head table like every Viking show I've ever seen, but he quickly navigates around it to enclose his son in a hug. He shakes my hand readily, thanking me for coming out to meet his son. "Son, take his bags to the room beside yours. You can give him a tour after he has refreshed himself from his travels." My attempts to wave them off are ignored, and my bags are taken by the man I am interviewing to a spacious but sparse room on the second floor. Dormo points to his door and lets me know that once I'm ready to just knock and we can see the other sights.
Once I've change, I catch a glimpse at Dormo's room. It's decorated exactly the same as mine: large bed, dresser with mirror, small bathroom, and a hamper which has a few shirts in it. When asked about the lack of decorations, Dormo sighs and rubs his head. "Yeah, after I got in trouble, Mother and Father were furious. They said that they didn't trust that anything I had gotten had been earned, so they sold it all or gave it away." I store the information for later discussion, but I want to get a look at what life currently is for Dormo before opening up old wounds.
The Bloodhand compound is bustling, and everyone has a list of tasks to complete daily. The younger kids go to school, come back to study and train, while doing some laundry and cooking help for others. The teens and young adults act as something between foreman and fallback members, taking up tasks that can't be handled by younger hands. I see Dormo's younger brother Faan, age sixteen, showing a few cousins how to check the walls for cracks and flaws and how to apply a thick paste to any areas that can be patched. The kitchen is large, with multiple stations and it seems like every uncle and aunt is in here cooking or organizing. I ask Dormo what the gender dynamic is in the Bloodhand family, and he waves it off. All members are given equal duty, and everyone in the family cooks, cleans and washes when they are on that duty. In some ways, it reminds me of some interviews I had done in the past of military facilities, with duty sections and rotations. Bringing it up, Dormo nods emphatically. "Back in the old days, the Bloodhands were nomads in the mountains. You had to do everything, and if someone couldn't fill in on things it created issues."
Continuing on the tour, we arrive at what Dormo calls, "His personal Hells." This is a course that occupies the entire walled section opposite the gate: monkey bars, nets, climbing ropes, and a series of training dummy and punching bags. "We all do it, but this was a big part of my actual football training." I ask for a demonstration. He calls out, asking three of his cousins to come help. Twin sisters, Tala and Mala, and a gangly youth whose name I didn't catch all come over. I see them pull out padding that covers forearms and shins, as well as soft headgear that goes over the ears.
Dormo starts at one end, and the goal seems to be to complete each task sequentially without stopping or failing. But as he starts across the monkey bars, the three cousins begin launching themselves at Dormo, attempting to drag him off the bars or strike at him. He speeds through the bars and rope climb, despite Tala and Mala landing hard kicks onto his ribs. When he gets to the training dummies, I see the real skill that he has translated to the football field. He gets low, deep into a two-point stance and shoots toward the gap. As he makes contact, he grunts and strong arms both dummies, imitating the splitting of a double team. Tala charges the gap created, a lead blocker attempting to clear the hole. Dormo resets his base and attacks the block, ending with a press and rip to disengage her to continue advancing. Crossing a line at the end at a dead sprint, the three helpers cheer weakly and begin stripping the pads off. For the first time since we met, I see the grace and power that put him on my radar.
What really intrigues me is how different he looks on tape from what I just saw. While the physical tools are all present, on tape he looks much slower and less decisive.
Q: So is this how you trained for football?
Dormo: Partly. I was doing these things individually, but I figured stringing them together would test me in different ways.
Q: So let me ask: you look much smoother on this drill than you do in most of your film. Why is there such a difference?
D: Well, it's a lot different in practice since things are static, you know? We move the dummies around and change how I get attacked, but there isn't a play to diagnose. No reads to make.
Q: Do you still feel uncomfortable with the sport?
D: A bit, yes. I made plenty of mistakes on reads last year. I'm still figuring out how to get more consistent in my game. I know I can do it, but getting things to flow properly is taking more time than I thought.
We chat a bit about scheme and technique, but Dormo admits that he is still pickling up the strategic parts of the game. He jokes that he is too thick-headed for it, and is glad all he needs to do is hit people.
Dinner is a loud, festive family affair. Plates of meat, vegetables and fruit are everywhere. Plates are passed, conversation is loud and joyous. It seems that despite the occasional dirty look or jostling, the Bloodhand family is tight-knit. I take the time to ask Crag about the flags over the door. He says that when the family were still nomadic, they lived in a mountainous region with many other tribes like theirs. The first Bloodhand was also named Dormo and is the inspiration for the current's name, fought all the tribes and either destroyed or assimilated them into his. When it got too large, it splintered to many Bloodhand families, with this branch eventually landing in Waterdeep. When asked why he chose the founder's name for his son, Crag is interrupted by his father Quell.
Quell, the old man with the cane who I saw earlier, has a spark in his eye that says he knows more than you and he finds it hilarious. Quell raps his son with the cane, yelling loudly that he knew that Dormo would be special as soon as he was born. "Full night, not a cloud to be found! Born under the new moon is good! Means someone is bound for changes!" Crag rolls his eyes, but confirms that Quell names all the children as the eldest of the family. Dormo has his head in his hands, but I can see the slight glint of his golden tooth that says he might just be laughing.
With night fallen and dishes done, Dormo invites me to the roof of the house. With chairs and umbrellas set up, I am given an unparalleled view of the city. I see statues and landmarks that we passed on our way to the house, and they are just as stunning as they were up close. With a slight pause, I open up the topic we both know is the main reason I'm here.
Q: Dormo, how did you end up in a gang?
D: (heavy sigh) Well, I grew up same as the cousins you saw today. I was the smallest of my brothers at the time, and it bothered me a lot. They'd call me Shade sometimes, saying I'd only ever live in Ancestor Dormo's shadow. Looking back, they really only did it during training, trying to throw me off and get under my skin.
Q: It worked
D: Too well. I would go into rages, trying to do anything to win and beat them. I really couldn't though, I was too out of control. As I finally started growing up and filling in, I realized that even though I couldn't win here, I could definitely win (gestures to the city) out there. So I got into fistfights, especially at the docks. Won a lot of money doing that, actually. But those fights aren't sanctioned by the city. Can't tax em, you see.
Q: Is that where you got arrested?
D: No, unfortunately. The guards broke up one of my fights mid-match. We all scattered, but the bookie that ran the ring grabbed me and pulled me into a tavern that his boss owned. Guards don't really like interrupting business, so they won't usually chase you into an unknown bar or shop. They just leave it to the owner to sort you out. So he buys me a drink and we get to talking, and he's saying all the right things. 'Dormo, you got chops, man. You could be big time, arena fighting.' And with a little drink in me and adrenaline from the fight still pumping, it was going right to my head.
Q: why didn't you try arena fighting?
D: Eighteen and older only. I was still only fifteen at the time. Barely allowed to go out on my own. So this guy tells me he can book me better fights, no more warm-up acts. Give me a nice purse at the end. Easy money in my eyes, I had only lost once or twice on the docks.
Q: So they pulled you in.
D: Like a fish on the line. It started exactly like he said, just better fights. But then, he'd ask me "Hey Dormo, I'm taking a package to my friend, can you come with me? He lives in a rough section." And since he was paying me well for the fights, of course I wanted him to stay safe.
Q: When did you really know you were in a gang?
D: I was with him at that tavern again, just relaxing. Some guys come in start making noise about something. And things are getting tense, and hands are reaching for knives on both sides. So my handler, cause what else can you call him at this point, taps me on the shoulder and says "the boss wants these guys out of here. Take out the trash." And it was at that point I realized that these guys weren't just fight fans, but I didn't even really care. I was still trying to shake off those Shade comments, so I sucker punched the leader like I was asked and the others dragged him out. There weren't any more organized fights anymore after that.
Q: What about the arrest?
D: I got told to go cause trouble at a guy's stall. Get loud about his prices and his goods. "This is (expletive) stuff! Can't believe you charge this much!" I didn't know that he was a guild member (A/N: Waterdeep has over 60 guilds for various businesses and services. All of these guilds have some measure of pull with the local government and other guilds) so when he's security starts heading toward me, I didn't have a plan.
Q: Is that how the fight happened?
D: Yeah, big drag out fight right there. (He points to a statue of a large man with a hammer). Guards come in and arrest everyone, yours included. I still see the look Mother and Father gave me when they saw me sitting there on that bench. Busted lip, scratched up, blood on my knuckles. The profound sadness and disappointment in those eyes. (Dormo wipes at his eyes).
Q: What happened after?
D: Well, there was the yelling and the stripping of my room. Pretty much the whole family got their two copper in about how I tarnished both the family name and Ancestor Dormo's name. Grandfather broke a cane on my shoulder as I walked through the door. Pretty much the only people who didn't feel disgusted by my actions were my older brothers. They both sat with me in that empty room, and we talked. They expressed regret at the nickname, and that they took things too far. I didn't blame them, but it was like a knot got untangled in my heart after that. I was able to get my mind right.
Q: How did you get out of that life?
D: (Chuckling) It actually wasn't hard. Since I was already made, I was less useful to them. The guards would keep an eye on me for a bit, so I was just soaking up too much attention. Plus, my father and all my uncles went to the tavern and made it clear that I was done. I still see some old associates, but I keep it cordial and brief.
Q: Are you excited to get away from it?
D: In some ways. the DSFL is a chance to show who I am now. Who I became after my tribulations.
I left the following day, with much to chew on during the long trek back to the home office. In truth, I didn't spend much time discussing football with Dormo, but I don't really think that is a bad thing. Dormo is a special talent that shows up on tape, but it has the looming issue of character over it. I know every team in the draft is wondering if this young man is worth the risk. In truth, it's hard to ignore the hard road he's had just to get to where he is. I don't know if Dormo Bloodhand is ready to to play at the highest level of the sport, but I believe that he is committed to being the best version of himself that he can be.
At the end of the day, that's all any of us can do. And I'm excited to see what that looks like.
I arrived in the city early in the morning by ferry. The docks are on a gradient of quality, and it would appear the ferry docks itself right in the middle. The wood is old and the people clearly experienced and moving with purpose. I am momentarily lost in the hustle of people leaving the ferry, then suddenly alone once again as I look for Dormo and take in the sites. I finally catch sight of the man as he approaches me.
Despite conducting many interviews with athletes, I am always slightly jarred seeing someone live after seeing them on film. Dormo walks at a leisurely pace, the crowd of workers and gawkers sliding out of the way as he approaches their point of intersection. The one time he breaks his straight line is for a group of sailors moving a massive crate on a box-sailed cargo vessel. He flashes one a quick smile, his beard revealing white teeth, although it appears that one has been replaced with a golden replacement. As he closes the distance, I take a step toward him and reach a hand out.
He walks past me, eyes grazing past me.
My initial reaction is disbelief. I had had coorespondence with Dormo and his family, who expressed excitement at getting to talk with me about a sport just catching on in the city. My disbelief begins to turn to indignation. I just traveled countless days to get here, and you are gonna try to big league me? I've had stars treat me better. As I turn to challenge him about it, I see an unexpected sight.
Dormo has a kid, probably no older than twelve, by the arm. In that trapped arm is my wallet, along with a folder featuring my notes and prep work for the interview. Somehow, this child had lifted both off me without me noticing.
But Dormo saw it.
"Kila," Dormo rumbled with a warning tone. "Since when do you work the docks?"
"Hey, you know how it is, big man. Boss says, I do. He with you?" the kid replies, an unapologetic grin on his face.
"He is. He'll be staying with me for the next day or two. I would appreciate you taking that back with you."
"Sure, sure, but I can't come back empty-handed. You know how it goes." Kila counters, the grin replaced with a cunning I wasn't sure I had ever seen on such a young face. Dormo sighs, reaches into a pocket and pulls out a few gold coins. He snatches the papers and my wallet, but leaves the coins. The business concluded, the child Kila runs off, ducking and weaving through the crowd. Dormo turns back to me, the smile back on his face. "Sorry about that, sir. Gotta keep your head on a swivel at the docks." He holds out his hand, clasping mine in a firm but gentle grasp. "Let's get back to the compound and get you something to drink, yeah?"
Walking through Waterdeep is a beautiful sight, and though we don't talk about anything past my trip, Dormo makes a point to point out a number of landmarks on the way to his residence. When we arrive, I realize that "compound" was indeed meant as intended: the Bloodhand family residence is a multi-story building of stunning design, with a courtyard surrounded by a wall. Dormo greets the man at the gate, who I later learn is a cousin named Rolo, and escorts me through the gate. The courtyard is large and well cared for, but where an average residence might contain grass and flowers, only hard-packed dirt lives in the walls. To my left, a mix of young and old family members lift mismatched free weights and body-weight exercises. To the right, two older boys are sparring while being overseen by an elderly man with a cane. I see the cane lash out and trip one of the boys, resulting in a takedown.
These people don't stop their activity as we walk through, but everyone waves or nods to Dormo, who returns them with smiles and waves in return. "Welcome, sir, to the Bloodhand training compound." I point to the flags flying over the front door: the center flag a red handprint on a field of white. Flanking it are a number of other flags: a howling wolf, three hammers connected at the pommel are the two directly flanking, but many other fan out to each side. Dormo laughs and asks me to save the family history questions for his father or grandfather.
The father in question, Crag, is shorter than his son but no less imposing. His blue eyes are piercing and demanding, but he smiles and stands when we fully enter the dining area. He had been sitting at the center of the head table like every Viking show I've ever seen, but he quickly navigates around it to enclose his son in a hug. He shakes my hand readily, thanking me for coming out to meet his son. "Son, take his bags to the room beside yours. You can give him a tour after he has refreshed himself from his travels." My attempts to wave them off are ignored, and my bags are taken by the man I am interviewing to a spacious but sparse room on the second floor. Dormo points to his door and lets me know that once I'm ready to just knock and we can see the other sights.
Once I've change, I catch a glimpse at Dormo's room. It's decorated exactly the same as mine: large bed, dresser with mirror, small bathroom, and a hamper which has a few shirts in it. When asked about the lack of decorations, Dormo sighs and rubs his head. "Yeah, after I got in trouble, Mother and Father were furious. They said that they didn't trust that anything I had gotten had been earned, so they sold it all or gave it away." I store the information for later discussion, but I want to get a look at what life currently is for Dormo before opening up old wounds.
The Bloodhand compound is bustling, and everyone has a list of tasks to complete daily. The younger kids go to school, come back to study and train, while doing some laundry and cooking help for others. The teens and young adults act as something between foreman and fallback members, taking up tasks that can't be handled by younger hands. I see Dormo's younger brother Faan, age sixteen, showing a few cousins how to check the walls for cracks and flaws and how to apply a thick paste to any areas that can be patched. The kitchen is large, with multiple stations and it seems like every uncle and aunt is in here cooking or organizing. I ask Dormo what the gender dynamic is in the Bloodhand family, and he waves it off. All members are given equal duty, and everyone in the family cooks, cleans and washes when they are on that duty. In some ways, it reminds me of some interviews I had done in the past of military facilities, with duty sections and rotations. Bringing it up, Dormo nods emphatically. "Back in the old days, the Bloodhands were nomads in the mountains. You had to do everything, and if someone couldn't fill in on things it created issues."
Continuing on the tour, we arrive at what Dormo calls, "His personal Hells." This is a course that occupies the entire walled section opposite the gate: monkey bars, nets, climbing ropes, and a series of training dummy and punching bags. "We all do it, but this was a big part of my actual football training." I ask for a demonstration. He calls out, asking three of his cousins to come help. Twin sisters, Tala and Mala, and a gangly youth whose name I didn't catch all come over. I see them pull out padding that covers forearms and shins, as well as soft headgear that goes over the ears.
Dormo starts at one end, and the goal seems to be to complete each task sequentially without stopping or failing. But as he starts across the monkey bars, the three cousins begin launching themselves at Dormo, attempting to drag him off the bars or strike at him. He speeds through the bars and rope climb, despite Tala and Mala landing hard kicks onto his ribs. When he gets to the training dummies, I see the real skill that he has translated to the football field. He gets low, deep into a two-point stance and shoots toward the gap. As he makes contact, he grunts and strong arms both dummies, imitating the splitting of a double team. Tala charges the gap created, a lead blocker attempting to clear the hole. Dormo resets his base and attacks the block, ending with a press and rip to disengage her to continue advancing. Crossing a line at the end at a dead sprint, the three helpers cheer weakly and begin stripping the pads off. For the first time since we met, I see the grace and power that put him on my radar.
What really intrigues me is how different he looks on tape from what I just saw. While the physical tools are all present, on tape he looks much slower and less decisive.
Q: So is this how you trained for football?
Dormo: Partly. I was doing these things individually, but I figured stringing them together would test me in different ways.
Q: So let me ask: you look much smoother on this drill than you do in most of your film. Why is there such a difference?
D: Well, it's a lot different in practice since things are static, you know? We move the dummies around and change how I get attacked, but there isn't a play to diagnose. No reads to make.
Q: Do you still feel uncomfortable with the sport?
D: A bit, yes. I made plenty of mistakes on reads last year. I'm still figuring out how to get more consistent in my game. I know I can do it, but getting things to flow properly is taking more time than I thought.
We chat a bit about scheme and technique, but Dormo admits that he is still pickling up the strategic parts of the game. He jokes that he is too thick-headed for it, and is glad all he needs to do is hit people.
Dinner is a loud, festive family affair. Plates of meat, vegetables and fruit are everywhere. Plates are passed, conversation is loud and joyous. It seems that despite the occasional dirty look or jostling, the Bloodhand family is tight-knit. I take the time to ask Crag about the flags over the door. He says that when the family were still nomadic, they lived in a mountainous region with many other tribes like theirs. The first Bloodhand was also named Dormo and is the inspiration for the current's name, fought all the tribes and either destroyed or assimilated them into his. When it got too large, it splintered to many Bloodhand families, with this branch eventually landing in Waterdeep. When asked why he chose the founder's name for his son, Crag is interrupted by his father Quell.
Quell, the old man with the cane who I saw earlier, has a spark in his eye that says he knows more than you and he finds it hilarious. Quell raps his son with the cane, yelling loudly that he knew that Dormo would be special as soon as he was born. "Full night, not a cloud to be found! Born under the new moon is good! Means someone is bound for changes!" Crag rolls his eyes, but confirms that Quell names all the children as the eldest of the family. Dormo has his head in his hands, but I can see the slight glint of his golden tooth that says he might just be laughing.
With night fallen and dishes done, Dormo invites me to the roof of the house. With chairs and umbrellas set up, I am given an unparalleled view of the city. I see statues and landmarks that we passed on our way to the house, and they are just as stunning as they were up close. With a slight pause, I open up the topic we both know is the main reason I'm here.
Q: Dormo, how did you end up in a gang?
D: (heavy sigh) Well, I grew up same as the cousins you saw today. I was the smallest of my brothers at the time, and it bothered me a lot. They'd call me Shade sometimes, saying I'd only ever live in Ancestor Dormo's shadow. Looking back, they really only did it during training, trying to throw me off and get under my skin.
Q: It worked
D: Too well. I would go into rages, trying to do anything to win and beat them. I really couldn't though, I was too out of control. As I finally started growing up and filling in, I realized that even though I couldn't win here, I could definitely win (gestures to the city) out there. So I got into fistfights, especially at the docks. Won a lot of money doing that, actually. But those fights aren't sanctioned by the city. Can't tax em, you see.
Q: Is that where you got arrested?
D: No, unfortunately. The guards broke up one of my fights mid-match. We all scattered, but the bookie that ran the ring grabbed me and pulled me into a tavern that his boss owned. Guards don't really like interrupting business, so they won't usually chase you into an unknown bar or shop. They just leave it to the owner to sort you out. So he buys me a drink and we get to talking, and he's saying all the right things. 'Dormo, you got chops, man. You could be big time, arena fighting.' And with a little drink in me and adrenaline from the fight still pumping, it was going right to my head.
Q: why didn't you try arena fighting?
D: Eighteen and older only. I was still only fifteen at the time. Barely allowed to go out on my own. So this guy tells me he can book me better fights, no more warm-up acts. Give me a nice purse at the end. Easy money in my eyes, I had only lost once or twice on the docks.
Q: So they pulled you in.
D: Like a fish on the line. It started exactly like he said, just better fights. But then, he'd ask me "Hey Dormo, I'm taking a package to my friend, can you come with me? He lives in a rough section." And since he was paying me well for the fights, of course I wanted him to stay safe.
Q: When did you really know you were in a gang?
D: I was with him at that tavern again, just relaxing. Some guys come in start making noise about something. And things are getting tense, and hands are reaching for knives on both sides. So my handler, cause what else can you call him at this point, taps me on the shoulder and says "the boss wants these guys out of here. Take out the trash." And it was at that point I realized that these guys weren't just fight fans, but I didn't even really care. I was still trying to shake off those Shade comments, so I sucker punched the leader like I was asked and the others dragged him out. There weren't any more organized fights anymore after that.
Q: What about the arrest?
D: I got told to go cause trouble at a guy's stall. Get loud about his prices and his goods. "This is (expletive) stuff! Can't believe you charge this much!" I didn't know that he was a guild member (A/N: Waterdeep has over 60 guilds for various businesses and services. All of these guilds have some measure of pull with the local government and other guilds) so when he's security starts heading toward me, I didn't have a plan.
Q: Is that how the fight happened?
D: Yeah, big drag out fight right there. (He points to a statue of a large man with a hammer). Guards come in and arrest everyone, yours included. I still see the look Mother and Father gave me when they saw me sitting there on that bench. Busted lip, scratched up, blood on my knuckles. The profound sadness and disappointment in those eyes. (Dormo wipes at his eyes).
Q: What happened after?
D: Well, there was the yelling and the stripping of my room. Pretty much the whole family got their two copper in about how I tarnished both the family name and Ancestor Dormo's name. Grandfather broke a cane on my shoulder as I walked through the door. Pretty much the only people who didn't feel disgusted by my actions were my older brothers. They both sat with me in that empty room, and we talked. They expressed regret at the nickname, and that they took things too far. I didn't blame them, but it was like a knot got untangled in my heart after that. I was able to get my mind right.
Q: How did you get out of that life?
D: (Chuckling) It actually wasn't hard. Since I was already made, I was less useful to them. The guards would keep an eye on me for a bit, so I was just soaking up too much attention. Plus, my father and all my uncles went to the tavern and made it clear that I was done. I still see some old associates, but I keep it cordial and brief.
Q: Are you excited to get away from it?
D: In some ways. the DSFL is a chance to show who I am now. Who I became after my tribulations.
I left the following day, with much to chew on during the long trek back to the home office. In truth, I didn't spend much time discussing football with Dormo, but I don't really think that is a bad thing. Dormo is a special talent that shows up on tape, but it has the looming issue of character over it. I know every team in the draft is wondering if this young man is worth the risk. In truth, it's hard to ignore the hard road he's had just to get to where he is. I don't know if Dormo Bloodhand is ready to to play at the highest level of the sport, but I believe that he is committed to being the best version of himself that he can be.
At the end of the day, that's all any of us can do. And I'm excited to see what that looks like.