A good day is football.
Erik McCoy's motto on a Sunday morning. He wasn't interested in his family, chores, eating, or even work the next day. He did these things of course - but the DE's father lived, ate, and breathed football. Never good enough to be a pro, Erik McCoy wanted his son to find a better fate in the sport he loved. His form of parenting wasn't great, abusive at times, but if he breathed football, his son gained Erik's lungs.
"A good day is football," young Crozier McCoy muttered, practicing on the field at 6 a.m. It's a youth football league, he doesn't need this practice, 13 year olds don't even need to be awake at this time. But Crozier comes anyway, working. Wanting to be the best, just good enough to impress his dad.
Just good enough to get anything out of his dad.
"A good day is football," the last words of McCoy's father. A day like any other, with the beers on the table, McCoy father and son sitting on the couch in front of the TV. In the middle of the 3rd quarter, Erik began to shake, a light tingling, his mouth begins to drip down. He is having a stroke.
The game was good, the doctor's prognosis is bad. Erik McCoy is in a coma, and may never recover. Crozier is devastated. His father can't die yet. Not until he gets to watch his son play in the big game - the hero of the day. It can't happen until he finally hears those words: "I'm proud of you, Croz."
"What a good day for football," the announcer declared! High school state finals, Perry High taking on the Maryville Meddlers. Crozier McCoy, now 18 and playing the final game of his high-school career, takes the field. He has other things on his mind. Erik passed away earlier that morning. A sluggish first half follows, but McCoy manages to distract himself enough to finish the job. He ends the game with 4 sacks and a state title.
"A good day in football!" the Zips newspaper reads, confirming the choice of 4 star DE Crozier McCoy to commit to Akron. School doesn't matter to him, and he hardly cares about the degree. It's just another step to find the approval of his father - alive or not. He breezes past school, shows a fair amount of academic potential and graduates with a degree in economics. Same as his father. Not that it matters, or that it ever has mattered. The only thing that plagues his mind is the pros. He needs to prepare.
Now, every day, McCoy practices, plays, and prays to the thought of his father. He spends hours outside, inside, rain or shine, building muscle, talking to scouts, studying tape. He exercises, trains, and prepares himself to give anything - everything in the name of his father. He wants, no, needs to be the best. If Erik could ever see him again, he would be so proud of him. And as he trains, sweats, bleeds on these fields for his father, he keeps the motto under his breath and in his thoughts: "A good day is football. A good day is football."
A good day is getting his goddamn father back. But that'll never happen.
So football it is. Like it was meant to be.
Erik McCoy's motto on a Sunday morning. He wasn't interested in his family, chores, eating, or even work the next day. He did these things of course - but the DE's father lived, ate, and breathed football. Never good enough to be a pro, Erik McCoy wanted his son to find a better fate in the sport he loved. His form of parenting wasn't great, abusive at times, but if he breathed football, his son gained Erik's lungs.
"A good day is football," young Crozier McCoy muttered, practicing on the field at 6 a.m. It's a youth football league, he doesn't need this practice, 13 year olds don't even need to be awake at this time. But Crozier comes anyway, working. Wanting to be the best, just good enough to impress his dad.
Just good enough to get anything out of his dad.
"A good day is football," the last words of McCoy's father. A day like any other, with the beers on the table, McCoy father and son sitting on the couch in front of the TV. In the middle of the 3rd quarter, Erik began to shake, a light tingling, his mouth begins to drip down. He is having a stroke.
The game was good, the doctor's prognosis is bad. Erik McCoy is in a coma, and may never recover. Crozier is devastated. His father can't die yet. Not until he gets to watch his son play in the big game - the hero of the day. It can't happen until he finally hears those words: "I'm proud of you, Croz."
"What a good day for football," the announcer declared! High school state finals, Perry High taking on the Maryville Meddlers. Crozier McCoy, now 18 and playing the final game of his high-school career, takes the field. He has other things on his mind. Erik passed away earlier that morning. A sluggish first half follows, but McCoy manages to distract himself enough to finish the job. He ends the game with 4 sacks and a state title.
"A good day in football!" the Zips newspaper reads, confirming the choice of 4 star DE Crozier McCoy to commit to Akron. School doesn't matter to him, and he hardly cares about the degree. It's just another step to find the approval of his father - alive or not. He breezes past school, shows a fair amount of academic potential and graduates with a degree in economics. Same as his father. Not that it matters, or that it ever has mattered. The only thing that plagues his mind is the pros. He needs to prepare.
Now, every day, McCoy practices, plays, and prays to the thought of his father. He spends hours outside, inside, rain or shine, building muscle, talking to scouts, studying tape. He exercises, trains, and prepares himself to give anything - everything in the name of his father. He wants, no, needs to be the best. If Erik could ever see him again, he would be so proud of him. And as he trains, sweats, bleeds on these fields for his father, he keeps the motto under his breath and in his thoughts: "A good day is football. A good day is football."
A good day is getting his goddamn father back. But that'll never happen.
So football it is. Like it was meant to be.
![[Image: svUZzJQh.jpg]](https://i.imgur.com/svUZzJQh.jpg)
