First & Then(65)

First of all, thanks for the handsome comment.

Second of all, I wanted to speak to the portion of the article that discussed strategies some high school players use to improve their records outside the realm of practice, hard work, etc. I was used as an example in this discussion; as it was stated, I played the first two years of high school at Shaunessy High School, which is a Class 6 team. It was suggested that I made the move from Shaunessy to Temple Sterling’s team my junior year in order to get more field time, and thus more opportunities to improve my overall record.

While it’s true that stats are really important in high school football today, I can’t admit to such a calculated move myself. The truth is that I came to Temple Sterling because my mom got remarried the summer before my junior year. My stepdad’s daughter already lived in Temple Sterling with her mom, and he wanted to be closer to her.

I don’t typically spread this information around, because I feel like it’s no one else’s business. At the same time, it’s hard for me sometimes to talk about personal stuff, especially when it comes to my family. But I’ve realized recently that that can be a hindrance, and that maybe sometimes what I justify as reserve is really just not giving people enough credit.

As long as I’ve got you here, I’d also like to address the Lake Falls game. Anyone who was at that game may have seen me exercising some pretty unsportsmanlike behavior. I’m embarrassed by how I acted that night, and I’d like to apologize. What I’m about to say isn’t meant as an excuse for it, but as at least a little bit of an explanation.

The truth is that Sam Wells’s death resonated with me personally, and not just because I knew him. Anyone who knew Sam feels the loss of someone who was a great player and a loyal teammate. But I felt a personal connection to this loss because it isn’t the first time I’ve lost someone in that way. When I was in seventh grade, my brother was killed in a single-car accident caused by drunk driving. My dad was behind the wheel.

It sounds weird that a victory against Lake Falls would mean so much, but for me it would have been sort of a victory against people who act without thinking. It’s selfish to think of a game that way. I won’t deny that. I try not to let my feelings get the better of me when I play, but I did at the Lake Falls game. For that, and for the way I acted both on the field and off, I’m truly sorry.

The idea that it doesn’t matter what other people think about you gets thrown around a lot in high school, and in many instances it’s true. But I do care what certain people think of me. I hope that if my actions caused these certain people to lose faith in me, that I can restore that faith, or at least that they’ll let me try.

On that note, keep up the good work, editor. I enjoy the Op-Ed pieces, and also when you print the cafeteria menu.

Ezra Lynley

There was a big old lump in my throat. I swallowed hard.

“Are you going to print this?”

“Fuck yeah,” Rachel said. “It’s good stuff.”

Why didn’t he tell me? That was the first clear thought I arrived at. I was mad. I was mad at Ezra, not for being a jerk at the game, not for going to Homecoming with Lindsay. Not for anything in the realm of high school bullshit. I was mad because he didn’t tell me this. It was like walking into the team locker room after he got the news about Sam, that thought of not knowing when Ezra’s business had become our business. But it had. I should’ve known. Then I would’ve understood.

“I researched the crap out of him for that article and I didn’t find anything about any of that,” Rachel continued. “The stepdad, his brother, any of it. Why do you think he’d talk about it now?” She shook her head. “Maybe how he acted at the game … maybe there were scouts there. Maybe he had to try to justify getting pulled out so he wouldn’t lose face with other schools.…”

It was too much. I had too much to think about to deal with Rachel Woodson and her utter hypocrisy.

“Not everything is about college,” I snapped. “Not everyone is thinking about their résumé or their record or how to make themselves look good.”

“Well, he was trying to make himself look good to someone. I mean, a public apology? It’s a bit much. Varsity players act like jackasses at games regularly, and you don’t see them waxing poetic about it.”

I didn’t speak. When I finally glanced at Rachel, she was looking at me critically. “You and Ezra were supposed to go to Homecoming together,” she said.

“Yeah, so?”

“So he wrote it for you.”

“What?”

“You guys fought after the Lake Falls game, yes?”

Damn small towns with their small high schools and their small high school populations. “How do you know that?”

“Please. Pick a less public spot to have an argument.” Her face did something that on a normal person would be considered a smile. “Ezra wrote this letter for you. To save face with you.”

“No, he didn’t,” I said, but staring down at the papers in my hand, I had the same suspicion. Certain people. Was I certain people?

But what about Lindsay? But then again, maybe I was staring down the barrel of two totally different issues. Just because Ezra wanted to clear the air with me didn’t mean he wanted to date me.

“Congratulations,” Rachel said, and took the letter from my hands. “Your relationship drama got us a major scoop. Star Player Speaks Out: Turmoil and Tears at the Lake Falls Game.”