Before The Sunrise

frustration

Pregame warmups have become second nature. So second nature, in fact, that I hardly think about them. I spend most of that hour running circles in my head about scoring scenarios, winning or losing, and how my dad would react to any specific outcome, and sneaking glances over at Matt Schultz, Highlandtown's own 4-star recruit, a defensive end who has verbally committed to Penn State. For all intents and purposes I am better than him, but that won't stop him from being leagues better than our offensive linemen.

Schultz is bigger and stronger than me, and I've read every article in the local newspapers about how he decimates offensive lines.

I'd be stupid to think I won't be taking hits tonight.

The last time our two teams met, my team came out on top in a fairly decisive victory, but a lot can change in a year. In many respects, I am better than I was then, but so is he. I follow him on Instagram, and he put on a lot of muscle over the summer. He plays on the left side, and our left tackle from last year graduated, and currently filling his shoes is a sophomore who has been facing a steep learning curve. Those kinds of things can make a difference.

I wrap up my warmups and head inside, my dinner sitting more uncomfortably in my stomach by the minute. No matter how talented I am, how hard I work, how experienced I become, I still feel a sick, shaky kind of anxiety before games, and lately it's been getting worse.

I change into my uniform, my eyes planted firmly on my locker to avoid catching a glimpse of anyone's body. Men's locker rooms are confusing places. Boys will always be commenting on the size of each other's dicks, but if you stare just a second too long, you are sadly gay forever. I tend to avoid both. I have enough shit to worry about, and my teammates leave me alone if I just stay out of it.

I don't mean to be so standoffish. I actually do care about most of the guys here, and I want them to succeed. I just don't know how to talk to them. But I know that Benny, a junior running back/linebacker, had been dating a girl for four years and just last week found out she'd been cheating on him for months. When I heard, I bought him a bag of skittles, his favorite, and gave it to him before the game. And I leave notes in my backup Zach's locker sometimes to encourage him to keep working hard. And a month ago, I anonymously sent flowers to Elijah's house, because even though he always has a smile on his face, I remember sitting with him on the grass under the goalpost late on a Friday night as he cried, telling me that his dad had just died of cancer. That was over a year ago, but I remembered the anniversary. Other guys might forget about things like that, but I don't.

But I don't think I'm an especially good teammate. For the most part, I don't speak to them, don't look at them, ignore them. It's hard to be close to them when they feel like they are miles away, living different lives.

Plus, aside from DeAndre, they all laugh, albeit uncomfortably, when Josh Fuller makes homophobic jokes.

I'm half-dressed, compression shirt on, sleeves on, and pads off, when I have to make my way to the bathroom stall furthest away from everyone and throw up the small amount of food I ate for dinner. It's not a surprise, nor is it welcomed. It leaves behind a burning emptiness in my stomach and a disgusting, acidic taste in my mouth. I feel guilty for forcing my poor teammates to hear me puke, but they're used to it by now. After almost four years of my disgusting habit, they barely notice anymore and have stopped asking me if I'm good or not. I've only lost twice in my entire high school career, and both of those were in my freshman year. Clearly my inability to keep food down has not affected my play.

I splash cold water on my face and rinse out my mouth before throwing my pads and jersey on and leading the team outside like the captain I claim to be.

People are filing into our home field for the game. At 10 minutes till kickoff, Coach Bradford calls us over.

"Alright, boys," he starts. "This is it. Conference rivals. Now we need to go out there and give this game all we have. We gotta compete for each other. No slacking, or you'll all feel it on Monday. You ready?"