12-06-2023, 02:06 AM
(This post was last modified: 12-14-2023, 01:40 PM by lemonoppy. Edited 1 time in total.)
//TRIGGER WARNING: Suicide Mention (in non-descriptive detail)
It was a cold and wet day in Orange County. The otters, fresh off a big win against the New Orleans Second Line, were lounging in their locker room after practice when suddenly Bread Bowl shot out of his chair. “I need to leave.” He proclaimed to the room, as he stormed out, the rest of his teammates were confused and startled by their teammates sudden exit from the locker room. Head Coach Marc Spector was also very confused by this development. Their confusion would grow to a heavy concern when Bread Bowl didn’t show up to practice back to back days after his emergency exit from the locker room. This confusion would be solved as Bread Bowl would call an emergency press conference at 4pm the day of his second missed practice.
“Now, if you know anything about Bread Bowl, it’s that he absolutely hates the attention being put in him,” Quarterback Lloyd Bannings told the ISFL Times, “He always tries to avoid that spotlight put on him. So when he called a press conference of all things, we were immediately alarmed.”
“I remember I texted him asking him if he was good when the Press Conference was announced,” said Offensive Lineman Walrus Jones, “He just responded with ‘You’ll see man’, and I was terrified.”
At four PM, eastern standard time, Bread Bowl stood up to the podium. His clothes were soaked, as if drenched in a bucket of water and sweat. His hair looked like it hadn’t been washed in days. His eyes puffy from tears, and as he began talking you could hear the scratchiness in his throat. It’s as if these were the first words he had said in days, the first coherent thought to come from him in a while. As the words left his mouth, he was watched from every angle of the world. Sports pundits examined him, his teammates sorrowed for him, fans worried for him. Everyone was watching. He began to speak, starting with a story.
“I’m going to start this press conference by talking about my friend. His name was Willie. Willie was one of my closest friends at a point in my life. We played football together as kids, both of us Wide Receivers for our teams as we grew up. We just had that special bond two homeboys have.
“Eventually, we grew apart. We stayed close friends in our friend group. Playing video games weekly. Our favorite was FIFA. We’d play the Pro Clubs mode or whatever it’s called all the time. Then we’d just sit in the playstation party and talk and talk over and over, just chatting about our lives. Soon we all moved away and started different lives, seeing each other every now and again at group gatherings.”
He paused for a second. He stared down at the podium, at some prewritten paper probably provided by a lawyer or a publicist of some kind, ordering him what to say and how to say it.
Tears began to flow down his face.
“A week ago. We were all in a playstation party together. Willie, who had been quiet in the past few weeks, jumped on us with this phrase. ‘I just love you guys man. More than you’d ever know.’ This spurred a laugh from the group. The boys never made fun of a man so hard. ‘That shit was corny as fuck bro!’
“Willie wasn’t laughing. He left the call a few minutes later.
“A few days ago, and a few days after this took place. I received two phone calls from Willie at 11pm. I declined both phone calls, because I was too busy playing video games with my other friends. I distinctly remember thinking ‘I don’t want to talk to his downer ass right now’
“Three days ago, I was told, by Willie’s sister, that Willie had died in his garage. He was only 17 years old. He had such a future ahead of him. He was gonna be an architect man.”
Bread Bowl was officially off the script. All he cared about now was memorizing his friend.
“Life is supposed to be precious man. We need to realize how precious it truly is. If I pick up the phone that night, who’s to say he’s not still here with us? If we don’t clown him in that playstation party, who’s to say he isn’t still alive to this day? We fucked up.
“We killed him.”
A small gasp echoed in the room. Murmurs that had been cascaded through the halls since the speech began suddenly fell quiet. Not even a pen would dare drop in the silence that filled the Orange County Otters office space.
“So when I tell you this, believe me. Hug your loved ones, please. Tell them they matter. Check in on them. Don’t be afraid to say ‘Hey man, just wanted to see if you’re good.’ And if you’re struggling with any of these thoughts. Whether they be completely real or even just an afterthought, talk to someone, anyone. Text your friend and say ‘Hey man, can we talk?’, do anything except kill yourself, please.
“If you think nobody loves you, you’re a goddamn fool. Look at the trees man, they love you. Look at the grass, the deer, hell look at the clouds man. They all love you. If you think you have nobody you’re lying to yourself. So please, if you’re struggling, reach out to anyone in your life. You aren’t a nuisance, you aren’t a problem, they won’t hate you for doing so. Trust me, some of them might hate you more if you don’t reach out.”
With those last words, Bread Bowl stared into the camera, nodded his head, as if to say a silent thank you to the crowd of people who came to listen to his message, and walked off the podium.
He would return to practice the next day, and was welcomed with applause in the locker room. According to numerous team sources, he gave a small speech to the team before practice, and assured them he’d be playing in their next game as their captain.
————————————————————————
(As Waldo; Don’t grade past this please. And if you feel this is better suited for a different section, move it, I don’t care about the money.)
This story is nearly completely true. With some obvious exceptions, and some parts changed to fit the dilemma of the story, but the general story is completely real. I did have a friend, not named Willie, who killed himself around 2.5 years ago. He did in fact call me twice the night he killed himself. He did tell us he loved us on a playstation call and we did clown him. His sister did in fact call me that night to tell me of her brothers death.
I didn’t make this post for sympathy or attention or anything, I don’t give a fuck about how you people feel about me anymore. Instead I made this post and told you this story in order to ask you to please please please reach out if you need to do so. “Willie” would have turned 19 this month. We’d be celebrating his birthday next week. Instead, I have to visit a gravestone.
Please, if you’re feeling any suicidal thoughts, don’t be afraid to call 988, the new suicide hotline number, or just get in contact with anyone you know. Fuck, DM me man. Talk to anyone you’re close friends with in the league, because while this is a sim league, it’s a community first and foremost. And communities take care of their people.
ISFL, I love you. Thanks for being such a great part of my life for these past five years. I don’t know where I’d be without you. Please stay safe, and take care of yourselves. Love y’all.
It was a cold and wet day in Orange County. The otters, fresh off a big win against the New Orleans Second Line, were lounging in their locker room after practice when suddenly Bread Bowl shot out of his chair. “I need to leave.” He proclaimed to the room, as he stormed out, the rest of his teammates were confused and startled by their teammates sudden exit from the locker room. Head Coach Marc Spector was also very confused by this development. Their confusion would grow to a heavy concern when Bread Bowl didn’t show up to practice back to back days after his emergency exit from the locker room. This confusion would be solved as Bread Bowl would call an emergency press conference at 4pm the day of his second missed practice.
“Now, if you know anything about Bread Bowl, it’s that he absolutely hates the attention being put in him,” Quarterback Lloyd Bannings told the ISFL Times, “He always tries to avoid that spotlight put on him. So when he called a press conference of all things, we were immediately alarmed.”
“I remember I texted him asking him if he was good when the Press Conference was announced,” said Offensive Lineman Walrus Jones, “He just responded with ‘You’ll see man’, and I was terrified.”
At four PM, eastern standard time, Bread Bowl stood up to the podium. His clothes were soaked, as if drenched in a bucket of water and sweat. His hair looked like it hadn’t been washed in days. His eyes puffy from tears, and as he began talking you could hear the scratchiness in his throat. It’s as if these were the first words he had said in days, the first coherent thought to come from him in a while. As the words left his mouth, he was watched from every angle of the world. Sports pundits examined him, his teammates sorrowed for him, fans worried for him. Everyone was watching. He began to speak, starting with a story.
“I’m going to start this press conference by talking about my friend. His name was Willie. Willie was one of my closest friends at a point in my life. We played football together as kids, both of us Wide Receivers for our teams as we grew up. We just had that special bond two homeboys have.
“Eventually, we grew apart. We stayed close friends in our friend group. Playing video games weekly. Our favorite was FIFA. We’d play the Pro Clubs mode or whatever it’s called all the time. Then we’d just sit in the playstation party and talk and talk over and over, just chatting about our lives. Soon we all moved away and started different lives, seeing each other every now and again at group gatherings.”
He paused for a second. He stared down at the podium, at some prewritten paper probably provided by a lawyer or a publicist of some kind, ordering him what to say and how to say it.
Tears began to flow down his face.
“A week ago. We were all in a playstation party together. Willie, who had been quiet in the past few weeks, jumped on us with this phrase. ‘I just love you guys man. More than you’d ever know.’ This spurred a laugh from the group. The boys never made fun of a man so hard. ‘That shit was corny as fuck bro!’
“Willie wasn’t laughing. He left the call a few minutes later.
“A few days ago, and a few days after this took place. I received two phone calls from Willie at 11pm. I declined both phone calls, because I was too busy playing video games with my other friends. I distinctly remember thinking ‘I don’t want to talk to his downer ass right now’
“Three days ago, I was told, by Willie’s sister, that Willie had died in his garage. He was only 17 years old. He had such a future ahead of him. He was gonna be an architect man.”
Bread Bowl was officially off the script. All he cared about now was memorizing his friend.
“Life is supposed to be precious man. We need to realize how precious it truly is. If I pick up the phone that night, who’s to say he’s not still here with us? If we don’t clown him in that playstation party, who’s to say he isn’t still alive to this day? We fucked up.
“We killed him.”
A small gasp echoed in the room. Murmurs that had been cascaded through the halls since the speech began suddenly fell quiet. Not even a pen would dare drop in the silence that filled the Orange County Otters office space.
“So when I tell you this, believe me. Hug your loved ones, please. Tell them they matter. Check in on them. Don’t be afraid to say ‘Hey man, just wanted to see if you’re good.’ And if you’re struggling with any of these thoughts. Whether they be completely real or even just an afterthought, talk to someone, anyone. Text your friend and say ‘Hey man, can we talk?’, do anything except kill yourself, please.
“If you think nobody loves you, you’re a goddamn fool. Look at the trees man, they love you. Look at the grass, the deer, hell look at the clouds man. They all love you. If you think you have nobody you’re lying to yourself. So please, if you’re struggling, reach out to anyone in your life. You aren’t a nuisance, you aren’t a problem, they won’t hate you for doing so. Trust me, some of them might hate you more if you don’t reach out.”
With those last words, Bread Bowl stared into the camera, nodded his head, as if to say a silent thank you to the crowd of people who came to listen to his message, and walked off the podium.
He would return to practice the next day, and was welcomed with applause in the locker room. According to numerous team sources, he gave a small speech to the team before practice, and assured them he’d be playing in their next game as their captain.
————————————————————————
(As Waldo; Don’t grade past this please. And if you feel this is better suited for a different section, move it, I don’t care about the money.)
This story is nearly completely true. With some obvious exceptions, and some parts changed to fit the dilemma of the story, but the general story is completely real. I did have a friend, not named Willie, who killed himself around 2.5 years ago. He did in fact call me twice the night he killed himself. He did tell us he loved us on a playstation call and we did clown him. His sister did in fact call me that night to tell me of her brothers death.
I didn’t make this post for sympathy or attention or anything, I don’t give a fuck about how you people feel about me anymore. Instead I made this post and told you this story in order to ask you to please please please reach out if you need to do so. “Willie” would have turned 19 this month. We’d be celebrating his birthday next week. Instead, I have to visit a gravestone.
Please, if you’re feeling any suicidal thoughts, don’t be afraid to call 988, the new suicide hotline number, or just get in contact with anyone you know. Fuck, DM me man. Talk to anyone you’re close friends with in the league, because while this is a sim league, it’s a community first and foremost. And communities take care of their people.
ISFL, I love you. Thanks for being such a great part of my life for these past five years. I don’t know where I’d be without you. Please stay safe, and take care of yourselves. Love y’all.