GRIDIRON FOLLIES
MAYOWA KOLEOSHO
Copyright Mayowa Koleosho 2012
Smashwords Edition
TABLE OF CONTENTS
FAME
The adulation. Their chants. Your name up in lights.
You miss it don’t you; wish you could relive those moments. Wish you could run on that field once again, adrenaline coursing through your body, crowd going crazy at the very mention of your name. Remember the first time we met. What was it? High school championship game I think. It was your coming out party. Prior to that game all that was being talked about was the opposing team’s quarterback and how he was the best player in the state. You used that to motivate yourself, made a vow they’d remember your name after the game. You put up gaudy numbers that night, a performance that will forever be etched in the annals of history.
I introduced myself as fame; you embraced me, letting me into your life without second guessing my intentions. We hit it off right from the get go. I in turn introduced you to agents, recruiters, boosters, groupies and many more. I admit not all of them had your best interest at heart, most of them saw you as a meal ticket. I should have prepared you better for what lay ahead, but you seemed to be enjoying your new found success too much. Anything I had told you at that point would have been in vain. The big schools came calling shortly afterwards. Your picture was in all of the magazines. I have to give it to you; you took it all in stride. You’d always wanted to be noticed, this was all working into your grand scheme of things.
You chose Florida, said the weather and the women were too much to pass up on. By now we were inseparable, it was only right I came along with you for the ride. The first two years in college was tough for you. Opportunity to play was scarce, older players continually got the nod over you. You buckled under the pressure, almost transferred out of the school. Our relationship was strenuous; we weren’t hanging out as much. You felt alone, you didn’t want to associate with anyone. I commend you for your perseverance, not many could have dealt with what you did. You were the big fish in the pond that was suddenly dropped in an ocean where there were not only similar type fishes but much larger ones too. You missed home, you missed your folks.
Kudos to you for sticking it out. You worked your ass off in the gym and made sure you were the last person off the field.
It paid off!
The coaches noticed the improvements. You had taken your mother’s advice to heart and turned your frustration into motivation.
Going into your third year, you were a completely different person on and off the court. The coaches rewarded you with the starting running back position, you answered by amassing the most rushing yards in school history. Many compared you with the greats in the game; your light was shining as bright as ever.
You sought me out and I obliged. We were a tandem meant for each other. The parties started up again, the groupies were plentiful. You were the big man on campus and everyone wanted a piece of you.
Your final year of college started off on the wrong foot. The media had compiled lists of Heisman hopefuls; many placed you in the middle of the pack.
You felt insulted, after all you had played better than most on the list the previous year. You kept to yourself yet again, dedicating your time to improving your body and your game. It did wonders for you.
Your ‘hit list’ became quite notorious. I still chuckle when I think about it. You put down the names of everyone supposedly better than you, and went after whatever personal records they had set each week. You truly are a beast when motivated. Defenses tried desperately but failed miserably to hold you back. You lead your team not only to an undefeated record but they also won the championship due to your play.
The Heisman trophy was yours, winning by a unanimous decision. You had proven every single one of your detractors wrong. It was time to move onto something bigger. Your sights were set on conquering the NFL.
You were touted by many pundits to be selected first in the draft that year. Unfortunately for you, the team with the number one pick happened to be the Minnesota Vikings. You wanted no parts of them, the state and its horrid weather. You made it known from the get go that you wanted a warm weather city and were willing to do anything to play in such a climate.
The hail storm of criticism was unrelenting. You hadn’t even picked up a football but yet you had ticked off a lot of people. If only they understood how much you detested the cold climate. Was it too much of you to ask to play where you’d be comfortable? Despite all the backlash, your agent was able to make sure you’d get where you wanted.
The Vikings picked you first but struck a deal with the Jacksonville Jaguars to get you to Florida. You were elated beyond reason when you found out what was about to go down. Once again you were back in Florida. Back in a familiar stomping ground. Some of the best days of your life were in that state, it was only right you went back there to pick up where you had left off.
Draft night was one of the best nights of your life. It was the cumulation of years of hard work, struggle, self doubt and perseverance.
Your mother couldn’t have been more proud as you walked across the stage and shook hands with the commissioner. The Jaguars were ecstatic; knowing they finally had that big name back they had always wanted. You were all too eager to get out on the field and show them what you were worth.
You signed a lucrative contract. At the time of signing, yours was the best rookie contract of that period. That didn’t make you a lot of friends in the media. Not with the way you had handled the whole Vikings issue. To them, you were a spoiled athlete who seemed to be getting his way without proving anything. Not that you needed any more motivation to show why you were the best player in the draft, but yet you used their words to prepare yourself for the upcoming season.
A new ‘hit list’ was formed, and you had many media figures in it. Every quote you found not to your liking was put up in your locker. It was almost like you were still playing for a deal.
You were richer than you’d ever imagined but yet you played like you were still searching for your first major deal.
We weren’t hanging out as much as we should, but whenever we did, it was truly a sight to behold. The women kept coming, in all shapes and sizes. You were pretty much the ‘it’ thing in Jacksonville, your name was well known around.
Everywhere you went, you were treated like royalty. People were sick of losing, and they felt you were going to change all that. It was a lot of weight to shoulder, the hopes and dreams of the city were pinned on one man….a rookie at that, but if there was anyone who could lift that, it was most definitely you.
The hype surrounding you was unreal. Your first game was getting so much press. Many wanted to see what you would do. Were you the real deal? Were you worth all the money the Jaguars had signed you for? Would you deliver or would you cave under the pressure? Of course there were some who simply wanted you to fail. You had handled your draft selection badly and they felt you doing poorly with your new team would be justified.
Have they learned nothing about you? Don’t they know when you are doubted is when you deliver. I coulda told them all this, but why bother…they would come to see this themselves. That first game was not only a spectacle; it was your coming out party to the NFL. The Jaguars clobbered the then current champions the Chicago Bears and did it in dramatic fashion.
You broke tackles, embarrassed their vaunted defense and set a rookie rushing record all in that game. You had arrived, and as far as you were concerned, there was nothing anyone could do to stop you from being the best back in the game.
It’d been a while since the Jaguars had been in the playoffs. In fact the team had been one of the bottom dwellers in the league for the past five years. You changed all that. They made the playoffs your rookie year and a lot of that could be attributed to your amazing play on the field. This was the start of what would be an illustrious career. Many pro-bowls and many personal awards down the line.
I am getting ahead of myself, but looking back at all you accomplished, there’s no doubt you will be mentioned with the Emmitt Smith’ and Barry Sanders’ of the game. The more your star shone, the more our friendship grew. I opened you up to people and places you knew nothing about, you in turn validated me in ways I never thought possible. We worked hand in hand, a symbiotic relationship where both partners benefited from each other.
You had a couple of vices but none greater than women. Boy did you love them! Your sexual appetite was notorious around Jacksonville. It was something everyone knew or had heard about but no one spoke about it in public. Some of your teammates nicknamed you ‘Wilt’ after the great Los Angeles Lakers legend. That was because he was a well known womanizer and you were just as bad.
Being young, rich and successful, women wanted you and you never failed to oblige them. Maybe I should have done a better job protecting you from them; then again I doubt I’d have made much of a difference. Even when you weren’t trying, these women found their way into your bed.
I should have known this would come back to bite you in the rear. It was only a matter of time before women started popping up claiming you were the father of their children.
By the time you were 3 seasons into your career, at least seven such women had made those claims. You disputed each and every one, but paternity tests proved three of them right. Child support was granted by the law and you couldn’t wrangle your way out of it. This would be the start of your downfall but you were too short sighted to notice it back then. The checks were coming in, so you ignored those going out. If only you’d done a little math, maybe you’d put a curb to your sexual escapades. Alas you were blinded by your own ego; you refused to see how the trail you were leaving would cost you all that you had worked for.
The fumes in your tail pipe were showing, it was a shame neither you nor the people you surrounded yourself with noticed it.
By the time your first contract was up, you’d been tagged by many in the organization as a ‘prima donna’.
Whilst your talent was undeniable, the ever growing issues off the field made you a big distraction for the franchise. The posses, the baby mamas, the drama and your over inflated ego made you a tough one to deal with. It was little wonder when it was time to negotiate a new contract; the team management had serious doubts about keeping you.
Sports radio and the media ran amok with it. Painting you as the villain who didn’t want to return to Jacksonville. They never liked you from the get go, so they took every opportunity to portray you in a bad light. Sadly you weren’t helping. You made it be known that you wanted the best possible deal you could get, after all you were the best running back in the league. Your agent convinced you to miss training camp as part of a hold out.
If need be, you were going to sit out all of preseason, just to force team management to give you a deal. Players do that all the time, it’s quite common in the NFL. Unfortunately in your case, you came off as the spoiled brat willing to make everyone upset just to get his way.
Eventually you got what you wanted. Jaguars’ management caved in and offered you one of the most lucrative contracts in NFL history. Your pockets were swollen once again, we were back in business.
Or so we thought.
They never tell you about the things you have to do to stay on top.
They never tell you about what the machine expects from you and what happens to those who can’t keep up.
You were allowed to make a fool of yourself off the field, as long as you produced like a star Running back. Once this was not the case, it was open season and the shots came from all angles.
Now this didn’t happen for a while. For the first few years you justified your new contract. You thrived on the field and the Jaguars were considered one of the best teams in the nation. You had complained to management that you wanted some help so you could compete for a title, and to your surprise and mine, the organization known for its spend thrift ways actually went out and brought in some talented players.
The team came close to winning it all. True to your word, you performed even better when surrounded with talent. That outfit put together by Jaguars management would probably go down as one of the most talented football teams to never win it all.
Its unfortunate things didn’t turn out the way you wanted it to. I know for a fact you gave it your all in trying to win a championship, but it seems fate never had that in the works for you. After two straight trips to the finals, including one gut wrenching overtime loss to the Ravens, your passion for the game started to wane.
From that point onwards, things would never be the same for you. You’d been playing football since the age of five. There’s only so much the human body can take, be it that of one of the greatest physical specimens to ever play the game.
The hits had been coming for years, you’d had your fair share of injuries, but this time things were different. You were older, and your body was taking longer to heal. What started as a bunch of minor injuries was turning out to be more than you bargained. As much pain as you were in, you refused to let anyone know the extent of your injuries. Instead you partied hard and you played harder.
I really believe you wanted to be a family man. I think in your heart, you felt like the only way you could stop yourself from losing it all was to have a reason to come home every night. Your body was breaking down on you, your finances were spiraling out of control and you were everyone’s favorite whipping boy especially in the media. You looked towards marriage, hoping to find the refuge you needed from all the turmoil surrounding you.
She was a stunner. A former beauty queen. Interestingly enough, you had met her through my acquaintance at a charity event. It was love or maybe I should clarify that, and say lust at first sight. You knew you wanted her, but she was unlike the other girls. She actually demanded you get to know her. It took you a while, but eventually you broke through. You dated for seven months, and got married in the eight. Approximately a year later, your first son from her came into the world.
Things changed, or so it seemed. You devoted more time to family, and you stopped hanging out as much with me. From the outside, you were really invested into being a family man.
Going into that season, you promised there’d be no more trouble from you. Your skeptics scoffed at the notion of you changing. Once again, the onus was on you to prove them wrong.
Alas, this time they were right. Yours was a tragedy in the making, and I fear I contributed to it being so.
I often ask myself how a guy who was compared favorably with the greats of the game, go from being the top player in the league to a guy working at the local home depot. Blowing through millions of dollars in just a matter of years.
How does one orchestrate such a tragic story despite everything seemingly being in place for your success?
Well…how does one explain this without portraying you in a negative light? It’s easy to point out all your mistakes, but this is supposed to serve as a cautionary tale for those who might walk the same path.
As the injuries piled up, your production dropped. Unfortunately your debt and financial woes were going the opposite way. It was terrible timing. Your contract was about to be up and by all indications, Jaguars management was going to cut you loose.
You knew you had to convince some team to sign you. In your mind, that’d be your last big pay check. The one contract that would take care of your woes. So you sought out black market dealers. You didn’t care what the side effects were…you didn’t care if it was illegal. All you wanted was something that would lessen the pain and heal your body quicker. You were tumbling down that hole of uncertainty and there was no one there to stop you from falling.
To make matters worse, you had an affair with a cheer leader on the team. On being found out, you claimed things at home had deteriorated to a point where you and your wife weren’t communicating anymore. Said it was a fling and nothing more. Sadly this was a costly affair. Your wife divorced you and got half of what you had, including the house you had completed payments on.
The cheer leader sued you for defamation and won, to put it mildly, you were being screwed from all angles. Down on your luck, you hoped that the drugs you were able to score off the black market would help. For some time they actually did. Your body seemed to respond to them and you were able to string together some decent games to close the season.
It wasn’t enough to convince the Jaguars to sign you to a massive contract but it was enough to get a few teams interested.
What you and your agent failed to take into consideration was your true value in light of all the things happening in your life. You wanted to be paid like a top running back but most teams saw you as a backup. However much money you thought you could get was nowhere near what teams were willing to give you. To make matters worse, you were hemorrhaging money badly and you needed some guarantee fast.
With time running out and debtors constantly nipping at your heels, you took what seemed like the best offer to you and signed with the Tennessee Titans.
The backlash was more than you expected. Your tenure with the Jaguars might not have ended with a championship, but for the most part the fans viewed you in a positive light. Whilst management might not have liked your antics, the fans saw things differently.
They knew how bad the team was before you got there. They were there when you broke records. They saw all the jaw dropping performances. To a lot of them you were a hero. You changed the franchise’ fate when you came aboard. Sure you had a lot of issues, but for the most part you won games and that was what really mattered. This move though was the straw that broke the camel’s back. Even your most loyal fans felt betrayed when you signed with the Jaguars’ division rivals. You leaving to be with the Titans was akin to a girl breaking up with her boyfriend only to go date his best friend.
I felt sorry for you. This wasn’t how you wanted to be portrayed. In your mind, the Jaguars owed you so much. You had put your life on the line for them. Your body had been put through so much, only to have them force you elsewhere.
You couldn’t see why the fans were so ignorant to the business side of things. You had to pay your bills and the Titans were willing to dole out the cash. Left to you, you’d still be a Jaguar, but in this money fueled society, whoever was willing to pay the most had the upper hand.
You felt alone. I tried reaching out to you many times, but you had become wary of me and the people I associated with.
I don’t know if it was paranoia, but you changed a lot when you went to Tennessee. To make matters worse, you were not getting the type of playing time you were accustomed to. Their star running back was the man on the scene and you found it hard to stay in his shadow. As far as you were concerned, you still had some juice. It was unacceptable that the coach and his crew couldn’t see that.
This time around, instead of voicing your discontent. You kept to yourself. Brooding most of the time, coming off as an anti-social figure. Your back was against the wall and you had no one to turn to. Unfortunately you did turn to something else, one that was bound to keep you tumbling down that hole.
Alcohol was your new best friend, alas one that came with a destructive side.
The situation with your new team worsened quickly. The coach was the no nonsense type and didn’t like to be challenged. After you had been vocal about your lack of playing time on more than a few occasions, he demoted you to the end of the bench.
He wasn’t trying to see things from your point of view, he only cared about his position and how he could jeopardize that by caving into your demands.
So started what would be a short lived tenure with the Titans. You were moody and kept to yourself.
Your new teammates tried to bring you into the fold but you were having none of that. Life had made you wary of people; you refused to let people in your life. Instead you found refuge in the bottle. You drank heavily, sometimes showing up to work drunk. Of course this only infuriated your coach more.
Management was called in to try and fix the problem. They told you they’d work something out as long as you toed the line and stayed sober. I think you must have felt like they were telling the truth, because after that you tried to get your act together. Alas, you’d burned the bridge so bad with your coach that he’d placed a barricade where the rubble of your previous squabble should have been. He was never going to play you again. Management kept telling you otherwise but as the season progressed, you could see the writing on the wall. You’d been sober to that point but upon the realization that your playing days, at least with that team was over; you reverted to your brooding, alcoholic ways.
You got into fights with the coaching personnel and your teammates. The coach asked you to stop coming to practice. You’d proven the naysayers right. You were a cancer in their eyes, and the only way to deal with a cancer was to terminate it. Pressure was placed on management to do something about you. The team was doing well; there was no need for you to remain a distraction. So they did what was best for them and cut you off the team. Paying what they owed, breaking off all ties with you.
You really believed in your abilities, thinking it was only a matter of time before you were back on the field. Unfortunately, your reputation was tarnished so bad that most organizations didn’t want anything to do with you. It was a long fall from grace. You had become the poster boy for all that was wrong with the NFL. Your woes were well documented. Your wife and baby mamas deserted you. You were portrayed as a bad father and weren’t allowed near your kids.
It was hard being your friend. You had evolved into this volatile creature that snapped at any slight provocation. I couldn’t be seen around such, watching from afar, hoping you’d regain your past brilliance. Sadly, life was giving you no breaks at the time. Everything that could go wrong went wrong! Your accounts were dwindling sharply, most of the money going to creditors and child support. Things got so bad that the bank had to foreclose your home. You had to move back with your mom, a move that must have done a number on your ego. Luckily for you, purchasing that house for her during your playing days had turned out to be a very smart move. It was technically the only thing you had that no one could take from you.
She was the only person that stood with you during the tough times. It’s not that I didn’t want to be seen with you, it’s just you weren’t good for business.
I love you dearly, but once you started spiraling out of control, the people who kept me going started getting scared of you. In this business, you are only as good as your last big move. I know you can understand this, you understand the nature of the game don’t you? Life is all about ups and downs and those ups were amazing. That coaster had t o come down sometime, and I guess with how high it went, the trip down was bound to be bumpy.
I hear you work at the local Home depot now. Trying to get back on your feet. Some say you have quit drinking, I really hope that’s the case. Maybe you can get a try out for some team. I know you love the game; you’ll find a way to get in one way or the other.
I just hope for your sake that when your name is brought up, people remember you for your record breaking plays and not the guy who was forced out the league like some bum.
Sincerely,
Your friend
Fame
BEAST
The man walked past the various plaques that adorned his trophy case. The Heisman trophy the jewel of his collection sat carefully on the top rung. Below it, one can make out his NFL Rookie of the year award, National championship ring, best player in the national championship game trophy, SEC player of the year figurine and other lesser known awards. Needless to say, here was a man who wasn’t a stranger to accomplishments but yet was marred by so much trouble. He was arguably the most controversial name in sports at the moment. Rahim Jenkins, 6’5, 260 pounds otherwise known as ‘The Beast’ by fans and sports pundits was a running back to be reckoned with. He had come into the league with much fanfare, known particularly for his break neck speed and razzle dazzle on the field. He broke tackles with ease and was notorious for his cheeky celebrations in the end zone. He once proclaimed to a reporter that he would go down as the greatest running back to ever play the game of football. He had the talent, but a lot of people would argue his attitude would most likely cost him that distinction.
He was drafted number one by the Bills, a team desperately in need of some help for their running game. The hopes of the city were pinned solely on his broad shoulders, of which he lived up to his first four years in the league. They made the playoffs in his rookie season, a feat that had been devoid of the organization a decade before he got there. The second year they advanced to the conference semi-finals only to be knocked out by an overtime field goal. The Third year was no different; it was yet another conference semi-final exit. His fourth year would prove to be his best, winning the MVP, amassing the most yards in NFL history and leading his team to the finals. Though they were blown out in the Super bowl, most believed that with a few tweaks here and there, the Bills were going to be in the running for the title the upcoming year. Unfortunately, life had different plans for Rahim and the Bills.
In his fifth year, things started to go downhill for him. There was the freak accident that caused him to miss a season, the numerous altercations both on and off the field, the scandals (various women coming out of the woodwork claiming he was the father of their children), by the end of that year, the Bills organization were frantically looking to move the guy once thought of as the future of the franchise, but without having played in a season, they had to wait to showcase him to other teams, to prove he could still play. There were still others in the organization who believed he could still be the guy to carry them to the championship, and felt the distractions would subside once he got on the field. Boy were they wrong!
Seeing it was a make or break year, Rahim knew in other to get a hefty contract the next season, he‘d have to tone down his antics and show his worth on the field. For the first couple of games, he played like his moniker. Tearing defenses apart, showing the sports world that his demise had greatly been exaggerated. He put up the numbers and the Bills were in the playoff hunt once again.
In his mind, the organization would be coughing up big bucks once the season was over. By this time, he’d been hemorrhaging money. Costly habits, legal issues, and a bevy of ‘baby mammas’ made sure that whatever he was making, was going out the door quickly. The pressure was on Rahim to make sure his source of income would not be going dry anytime soon.
It was the second to the last game of the season; the Bills needed the win to guarantee their playoff spot. The opponents were the Colts, the best defense in the league at that point.
The sports media were hyping it as the game of the year. Rahim ‘The Beast’ was having one of his best years, and no defense would contain him they said. They were right, the Colts couldn’t stop him. He exploded for over 200 yards in the first three quarters, and would have gone for more if not for the incident that would have such a dramatic impact on his career.
The Bills had run a trick play, freeing him up in the middle of the field. He caught the ball deftly and was sprinting as hard as he could, end zone in sight. There was only one defender to beat; the touchdown was as good as gold. Unbeknownst to him, another defender was catching up to him from the rear. He had braced himself for the impact of the oncoming defender, but was quite surprised when another defender from the back pulled him to the ground. The ball came loose, the Colts recovered, running the ball back to the center of the field before getting tackled. Rahim was livid. He felt the play was illegal. He walked up to the main referee, screaming in his face. “WHAT THE FUCK WAS THAT? THOSE FUCKERS WERE TUGGING ON MY JERSEY, WHERE’S THE DAMN FLAG?”
The referee kept his composure, signaling that the ruling on the field would stand and that the Colts had possession of the ball. He tried to walk away from an enraged Rahim, but Rahim was not to be controlled. The Beast was unleashed; he trailed the ref all the way to the sidelines. When the ref turned around and signaled that Rahim was ejected, he went bonkers. Shoving the ref to the ground, glaring at him menacingly. His teammates had to restrain him, dragging him all the way to the tunnel. The air was rendered with boos from Colts fans. It was a dark moment in Bills history.
That was the straw that broke the camel’s back. The NFL gave him a hefty fine and suspended him for the rest of the season and the playoffs. Of course the Bills had no chance to win without him and were easily defeated in the first round. He was traded to the lowly Detroit Lions in the off season for a few picks in the latter rounds of the draft. Their once prize acquisition had to be let go so as not to alienate the fans. The Lions needed Rahim’s skills but were also wary of giving him a huge contract. He simply came with too much baggage to justify such. So they offered him a contract juicy enough to entice him, but also not what his true value on the field warranted. He was offended, but he knew his options were limited. No other team was willing to take on a ‘head case’ like him.
The season rolled around and Rahim was expected once more to revive a dying franchise, this time around it wasn’t going to be that easy. The first two years were down years. The Lions were a really bad team. Bad coach, bad organization, testy players and a disgruntled fan base. They won a total of four games in Rahim’s first two years with the team. His numbers plummeted; he became an afterthought to most.
It was a trying period for Rahim. He felt alone, friends left him; lovers didn’t want anything to do with him. He tried to keep a low profile, did not want to be perceived as a bad guy but sometimes it just wasn’t good enough. His only love was football and he wanted to prove his naysayers wrong. So he hit the gym, motivated to get the Lions into the playoffs.
His hard work paid off for him. With the new batch of talent the team had acquired in the off season, the Lions were once again looking like a decent outfit. It was a good year; they finished over .500 and barely missed the playoffs. Rahim had one of the best individual seasons from the running back position and was selected to represent the team at the All-Star game. Things were looking up once again in Detroit. The widespread belief in the city was that they were playoff bound and Rahim was looking like his old self once again.
Outside of Detroit, things weren’t looking that rosy for the Lions. Pundits picked the team apart, but mostly Rahim. His sins were still trailing him. The media never seemed to have gotten over the incident where he threw the referee to the ground.
Rahim knew this was most likely going to be his last chance to get a good contract. By the time the year was over he’d be 32 years of age. The next NFL deal would be his last. With all the hits he had taken in his career, chances of his body going another 5 to 10 years was highly unrealistic. So he put his all into his last season, determined to put the football world on notice.
He did just that! It seems that whenever Rahim had his back to the wall, he produced better than expected. In their first 6 games the Lions went undefeated. Heads were turning at how well the team was playing, but most noticeably how Rahim had regained his ‘beastly’ form.
Tragedy struck in the 7th game.
It was a game against the top ranked defense in the nation, the Baltimore Ravens. The Lions had the ball at the 20 yard line, it was third down on the field. Coach wanted a go at it; why not go with what had been working? So the orders came in to give Rahim the ball. All he needed was a seam and he knew the touchdown was his. His Quarterback handed the ball to him and he was off, he’d broken a few tackles, and needed to avoid one more defender to get in the end zone, so he jumped thinking he’d extend his way to a touchdown. The defender reacted otherwise, hitting him in the pelvis area in mid-air, causing him to land on his neck with a sickening thud.
The tension in the stadium could have been cut with a knife. Everyone who saw the play was frozen in shock, wondering what had happened to Rahim. He lay there motionless for a few minutes. The team medics rushed onto the field and carted him off on a stretcher. Rahim was out cold, it was one of the worst injuries ever seen on an NFL field. He was moved to a nearby clinic where it was diagnosed that his vertebrae had shifted in some spots. He didn’t come to until the third day and when he did, it felt like his whole body was on fire. As the days went by the pain subsided, he could move about, but he knew there was something wrong. The biggest question on his mind was getting on the football field before the playoffs were over.
See Rahim knew his reputation was in tatters and this was his last shot at fixing that. If he didn’t get back on the field before the playoffs were over, chances of getting a lucrative deal were out the door. So when the doctor told him there was no way he would play the game again with his shifted vertebrae, it felt like a bullet had pierced his heart.
“Doc tell me that’s a joke? Please tell me you are joking?” pleaded Rahim bolting to his feet as the Doctor delivered the sad news.
“I am sorry, there’s nothing I can do. Of course I can’t force you, but be warned if you get another hit, you could be paralyzed and even worse lose your life”.
Rahim stood there stunned. A tear rolled down his cheek. Reality was staring him in the face and it didn’t look good for him.
He walked out of the room meekly and back to his car. He sat behind the steering wheel for a good hour, a trance like expression on his face. He probably would have stayed there longer if his phone didn’t go off.
RING! RING! RING!
He looked down at it, the caller ID read ‘ZIGGY’.
“Hullo, he said.
“What did the doctor say? The gruff voice on the other end replied.
Rahim sighs, “Said I can’t play. Something about a shifted vertebrae.”
“Damn, that sucks big time man. You sure there ain’t nuffin he can do about that?”
“Positive! Told me any more hits could make me a cripple, might even lose my life.”
“That’s some brutal stuff fam. How you taking all this?”
Rahim goes silent for a moment, there’s so much running through his mind.
“Honestly, don’t know how to answer that. Football’s all I know man. I can’t imagine life without it.” He finally spoke into the phone, barely audible.
“Yo, where you at man? You don’t sound too good,” boomed Ziggy.
“I am still at the hospital...well in their parking lot right now.”
“How long before you get home?”
“Like 20 minutes, depends on traffic really.”
“I’ll be there in about an hour; we’ll find a solution to this man. Don’t start feeling all sorry for yourself”, his friend tried to console him.
“I am not, just gotta deal with reality. I guess I’ll be seeing you in a few,” a resigned Rahim speaks into the phone.
“Aite man, one.” The phone line on the other end goes dead.
Rahim pockets his phone, starts the car and drives off.
An hour or so later, Rahim is seated in his living room just staring at the fish tank. The blinds of the house are all pulled down, casting of a dark eerie vibe. It doesn’t seem to bother him, once again looking like he is in a trance.
The door bell rings a couple of times before he gets up to answer it.
Ziggy, a behemoth of a man, stands there looking at Rahim quizzically. Its like his whole body is crammed with muscles, even his locks have a bulging appearance to them.
“Where you been man? I have been ringing the bell for the last 10 minutes”
Rahim doesn’t respond. He just walks back indoors, leaving Ziggy at the door fuming.
Ziggy storms inside to see Rahim seated at the same spot, staring at the fish tank.
“Dude, what the heck was that?” questions Ziggy.
Rahim just looks ahead; it’s like he can’t hear what Ziggy is saying. Ziggy walks over and stands right in front of him, forcing Rahim to acknowledge his presence.
“I am sorry Zig; I just don’t feel like talking about anything.”
“Unfortunately I don’t wanna hear noneofdat. You look like shit man…Is this how you gon be acting in this big ass house? If anything happens to you, no one’s going to know…. I ain't allowing that,” bellows Ziggy.
“What you gonna do Zig, beat me? I am a grown man; I am allowed to feel sorry for myself.”
“Listen to you. That’s weak talk man….You are f’ing Rahim ‘The Beast’ Jenkins. So what if some Doc told you that you can’t play, since when do you give up that easily?”
“I saw it man, I saw my back. It doesn’t look right. This ain’t about giving up, this is reality.” Rahim looks like he is resigned to his fate, but Ziggy is adamant.
“Look, I’ll ask around, you know that stuff I take, it really works wonders especially when it comes to healing”, says Ziggy.
“You talking about steroids?” Rahim raises his eyebrows quizzically.
“Yeah”. Ziggy walks over and sits besides his friend.
“Man, you know I don’t mess with that stuff. Don’t wanna put anything in my body that I am not sure of… Besides, with all the random testing going on, I don’t want to risk it”
Ziggy scoffs at the notion of Rahim’s career being jeopardized by his brand of medicine.
“The stuff I work with is non-detectable. Its designer made drugs man; you’d be surprised at how many athletes take this stuff. Don’t sweat it; no one’s going to find out”.
Rahim still looks unsure of his friend’s proposal. “I dunno man. I don’t feel one hundred about this.”
Ziggy tries to reassure him, “What have you got to lose? This is your last chance to get a big contract…if I were you I’d be kissing my feet right now to get that stuff for you.”
Rahim tries to laugh, forcing a weak smile. “No feet kissing. Rahim don’t do that….I guess I’ll go along. If you find anything that can heal me and get me ready for the playoffs, I’ll try it. .”
Ziggy gets up; he reaches out to shake his friend. “I can’t promise I will find what you need, but I’ll try my best…Don’t worry I ain’t going to tell my sources that it’s you that needs it. I got your back.”
“Thanks Zig, I really appreciate that.”
Ziggy starts walking towards the door. “No problem fam, stop feeling so sorry for yourself or I’ma have to call your mama.”
Rahim laughs at the suggestion, Ziggy walks out of the house. Rahim turns his attention to the fish tank yet again, watching the fishes swim around in their little enclosure, his thoughts wandering off.
Days went by and there was still no call from Ziggy. Rahim seldom went out, staying indoors brooding on his tough luck. He had given up on ever playing the game anymore. Life had thrown an obstacle at him and he had no way of getting past it. Due to the numerous bad decisions he had made in the past, he knew the lifestyle he had become accustomed to would eventually be taken from him.
Funds were dwindling, bills were piling up. This made no difference to Rahim; he was caught in his own little world of self pity. He tried to watch his team play on TV, but it was too painful. He longed for the field, yearned to help his teammates in their quest for the playoffs, but circumstances wouldn’t let him.
It was almost like he had dropped off the face of the planet. No one had seen or heard from him in weeks. A few journalists from the local media stations had gone over to interview him, but they were unable to get him to come out. The only evidence of him being alive was a picture the paparazzi had taken of him whilst he was laying by his pool. His appearance was quite raggedy. A scraggly beard wrapped around his face and his hair looked like it hadn’t been combed for days. Rahim was in a funk and there was no one who could get him out of it...that was until he met the man who called himself Morningstar. A meeting that would change his life forever.
The waters below crashed against the rocks violently. The sky looked menacing with dark clouds, lightning streaking across occasionally. A figure slowly works to the edge of the cliff. Just as he is about to take that step that will plunge him to his death, a loud buzzing sound is heard all over.
Rahim wakes up startled, a cold sweat running down his face. He is breathing heavily, the phone on his bedside drawer ringing loudly. He looks at the alarm clock on the table; it reads 3:33 A.M.
The phone continues to ring; Rahim grabs it and flips it open. “Hullo?”
“Mr. Jenkins, I hope I am not calling at a bad time”, the cold voice on the phone, speaking with a slight British accent responds.
“Who is this? a frustrated Rahim yells into the phone.
“I am sorry Mr. Jenkins, my name’s Morningstar,” the man on the other end says calmly.
“Morningstar? I don’t know any Morningstar. What do you want?”
“You sound so agitated. Are you sure I have not caught you at a bad time?”
“Listen, whoever you are, its 3:30 A.M., you just woke me up and still haven’t told me what the heck you want, of course I am fucking agitated”, yells Rahim into the phone.
“Very well, I am sorry for the lateness of my call. It’s the most convenient time for me…I happen to be a very busy person. But I’ll cut straight to the chase. Your friend Robert has been asking around for someone who might be able to help you.”
“Robert? Rahim is stumped as to what Morningstar might be talking about.
“Robert…ah…maybe I should use his other name then. Ziggy! Does that ring a bell?”
“Ziggy? Yeah I know him. What do you mean by he’s been asking around for someone to help me?”
Morningstar ever so calmly continues, “Let me rephrase that, he’s been asking around for anything that can heal a shifted vertebrae in very short time. He never said it was for you, but it doesn’t take a genius to figure out it is for his close friend.”
“How did you get this number? Did Zig give it to you?” Rahim sits up in bed, perplexed by the caller on the other end.
“No, but I have my ways. Mr. Jenkins, I can solve your problem.”
“You…you can. How?” Rahim stutters on the phone.
“I’d rather not discuss this on the phone. In person would be much better.” says Morningstar.
“B...but how do I know I can trust you?”
“You don’t…but I am not one to fool around. In a show of good faith, why not meet me at my house tomorrow?”
“O…Okay. I guess I can do that.”
“Very well, Mr. Jenkins I’ll text the address to your phone. Meet me there at 12 a.m. Be there exactly at that time…I do not play with my time”.
Before Rahim can object to Morningstar’s last statement, the phone goes dead. Rahim stares at it in disbelief.
Brrrt! brrrt! The text message had come through, Rahim glances at the message, still unsure of whether to take Morningstar on his offer or not.
Next day: 11:58 p.m.
Morningstar lived in a posh villa by the seaside. His was the last house on the street made up of very expensive homes. Rahim’s Bentley slowly came to a stop in the massive courtyard.
He gets out of the car and acknowledges his surroundings. Looking at his watch, he briskly walks to the front door. He hits the buzzer, just as a large clock chimes from inside the house, indicating its 12 a.m.
The door slowly creaks open, the interior of the house shrouded in darkness. Rahim cautiously walks in.
A staircase leads upwards; a few candles illuminate the dimly lit foyer below.
“Ah Mr. Jenkins you are finally here”, a voice echoes from above.
Rahim looks up, to see a man with startling white hair but dressed in an all black attire. The closer he gets, the more of him Rahim can make out. The man walks up to Rahim, slightly taller, smiling at him. His bright green eyes have a certain oldness to it, yet his face looks so young, a babyish innocence to it.
He extends his hands to Rahim. “Mr. Jenkins, I am Morningstar. Glad you could make it.”
Rahim shakes his hands, studying the man in front of him. Unsure of what to say.
Morning star motions him to come further into the house. They both walk into the living room. Its decor is in all white. Expensively furnished, art work from all over the world adorns its walls.
Rahim takes it in silently, impressed by what he sees. Morningstar walks over the counter in the corner; numerous alcoholic beverages are stacked in shelves behind it.
“What would you like to drink? Some Louis XII? Absinthe? Perhaps some Patron?”
“No thanks, not in the mood for a drink,” replies Rahim.
“Very well, you are missing out. Nothing like a good drink in your system to help calm down the tension”, smiles Morningstar.
He fills his glass with some wine and walks over to the seat opposite Rahim. He sits down cross legged, smiling at Rahim. Rahim’s uncomfortable with Morningstar’s gaze; he looks elsewhere as he addresses him.
“You said you can help Mr. Morningstar. How?”
“Quick to the point I see. I like that…I really like that. Not to waste your time any further. I have a deal for you, and if you are willing to accept, it will change your life significantly.” said Morningstar.
He takes a sip from his glass of wine, the cold green eyes staring at Rahim, the smile not ceasing even once. Out of nowhere, a dark green vial appears in his palms.
Rahim blinks twice, sitting upright, wondering what just happened. “How did you do that? You a magician?”
Morningstar laughs, but it feels like his laughter is coming from all around the house, causing Rahim to look around nervously.
“Magician? Not at all. I do not waste time with parlor tricks…But yes you could say what I offer is magic related.”
Rahim stands up. “Man I knew this was bullshit…Magic? Come on man, thought you said you could fix my back. I ain’t got time for no stupid games.”
“Sit DOWN!” commands Morningstar. His green eyes flashing, the smile gone.
Rahim can’t help but succumb to the man’s orders. He takes his seat once again.
“That’s much better Mr. Jenkins. This vial you see in my hands, will not only heal your current ailments, it will restore you to your best years.”
“How? Wait is this even legal?” Rahim asks skeptically.
Morningstar smirks, “You and I know you aren’t looking for anything legal. But you can keep your mind at ease; no drug testing equipment of this world can ever detect this. In fact, this is not of this world.”
Rahim leans back, baffled by what Morningstar is talking about. “Not of this world? I am so confused. What are you talking about man?”
“I would think by now you would have gotten a clue as to who I really am. The name Morningstar doesn’t ring a bell?”
Rahim shakes his head.
Morningstar smirks. “It's a shame how ignorant humans can be. No appreciation of their history. Very well, maybe my full name will help. Lucifer Morningstar…ding ding ding!!!”
Just as he pronounces his name, a cold breeze moves through the house. Rahim shudders, once again looking around to see where the effect is coming from.
“L..Lucifer…as in the devil?” stutters Rahim.
Applause emanates all over the house. Rahim jumps up, glancing around in fear. Lucifer smiles, watching his reaction with glee.
“PRECISELY!” says the devil.
Rahim stumbles backwards. Lucifer stands up.
“Shocked are you? Not to worry I won’t hurt you,” he says.
“I..If you are the devil, w…w...what are you doing up here and w...what happened to your horns?
Lucifer starts walking towards Rahim who keeps moving backwards trying to keep the distance between both of them.
“Oh stop that nonsense. I have been misrepresented completely. Do I look like an angry monster with over sized horns, spewing fire out from my nostrils?”
Rahim shakes his head.
“I mean don’t get me wrong, you wouldn’t want to see my bad side, but I like you, and I doubt it will ever come to that,” Lucifer utters to his shocked guest.
“Look man…I mean sir, I…I am sorry. I don’t think I should be here.”
“Why’s that? Because you suddenly have cold feet when I told you who I really was. Funny, that didn’t seem to be a problem before coming here,” Luther says coldly now only a few feet from Rahim. Every word he says seems to emanate from every inch of the house.
Rahim tries to move backwards, but he has backed himself to the wall. His eyes show the fear he is feeling at the moment.
“I…I…just thought you could help me, didn’t know you were the …
“Devil”, Lucifer finishes the sentence for Rahim. “Do you know what happens to you if you don’t take my offer?”
“No sir”.
Lucifer stares at him for a minute, then turns around and walks to the middle of the room. Rahim is unsure of what to do.
“Well are you coming or what?” snaps Lucifer.
Rahim cautiously walks up to the man in the middle of the room. Besides the demon king is a glowing orb that appears out of thin air.
The orb starts spinning; as it does the room is filled with moving images. Rahim is stunned. As he looks at the images he realizes they are all of him.
They show what happens to him if he refuses Lucifer’s offer. In one image he is seen packing his belongings into boxes as he is being thrown out from his foreclosed home.
In another, his cars are being reclaimed by the repo-man. There’s an image of him getting into a fight with his accountant, which leads to him being arrested.
The more the orb spins, the more unfortunate events pop up, eventually it stops with a gruesome image of Rahim standing atop a bridge, looking into the waters below and taking a jump.
Rahim gasps in shock on seeing the image. “No…no…no…that can’t be. It’s a lie man, you lying.”
“All true I dare say. I don’t have to tell you that at the rate you are bleeding money right now, it’s only a matter of time before you can’t keep up with your mortgages and other bills. You have no back up plans. Without money, you will face unimaginable hardships. The lifestyle you once took for granted is about to vanish. One thing leads to another, and as you saw in that final image, death will come sooner than you think. So I ask you Mr. Jenkins, would you rather go through that or take my offer?”
Rahim just stands there dumbfounded.
After a few moments of silence, Rahim finally speaks up. “So what happens if I take your offer? Can I see that also?”
Lucifer mulls for a moment and shrugs. “I suppose you can”.
He snaps his fingers, and once again the orb starts spinning. Images flying out of it once more. This time the images are of a more positive tone. Rahim is seen playing in the finals, leading his team to wins, looking like the Rahim of old. Endorsements and contract offers are coming at him from all direction.
He is living the lavish life, beautiful women, various assets all over the world, exotic cars and the likes. The final image is off him smiling gleefully, large Cuban cigar in hand, sitting on the deck of a yacht, watching the sunset go down.
The orb stops spinning, falls to the ground and dissipates into thin air. Lucifer turns to look at Rahim. “Well Mr. Jenkins, there you have it. Looks like a pretty good offer if you ask me, but of course the choice is all yours.”
Rahim is unsure of what to say. He stumbles backwards leaning on the wall.
“Can you give me a minute to think about this?” he asks.
Lucifer nods and walks out of the room. Rahim sinks into the nearest chair, deep in thought.
Thirty minutes later, Rahim is up, looking around the room to see if he can get Lucifer’s attention.
Unbeknownst to him, a cloud of smoke has formed behind him, taking form to turn into the demon king.
“Looking for me?” whispers Lucifer, causing Rahim to jump and turn around in fright.
“Man, you scared me. Why you gotta do that?”
“I am sorry; I need to work on my appearance. Had an old lady with heart problems die when I did that. You don’t have that problem though, I can hear your heart beating from a mile away, but I digress…you were looking for me no?”
“Yeah…yeah I was” says Rahim still trying to catch his breath. “I have an answer to your offer,” he continues.
‘Very well, what is it?” replies Lucifer.
“Before I answer, I just have one question…what’s in it for you?”
Lucifer smiles, his green eyes flashing. “I knew that was coming. All I want is your soul in return.”
“My…my soul? I don’t know about all that.”
“Trust me Rahim; it’s not as bad as they make it out to be. Once you die, your body turns to dust, your soul floats away and all that good stuff. Heaven isn’t what it’s cracked out to be, and neither is hell. Look at me, do I look like I am some fire breathing red skinned demon?” assures Lucifer, trying to persuade Rahim to see things his way.
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(Pages 1-26 show above.)