Prime Choice (17 page)

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Authors: Stephanie Perry Moore

BOOK: Prime Choice
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“Boy, I know you're hungry,” his father said as he came over to me again.
“No, I'm fine. I'm fine,” I said, although really I was dying to get a taste of that barbecue chicken and ribs.
I couldn't even eat without someone staring at my food. I just smiled back at people and tried not to let them know that their stares were really bothering me. Then I heard conversations all around me.
“Probably come outta college early. He could make a million dollars,” I heard a man say.
“A million? Please! He'll probably have a signing bonus for about twenty mil,” someone responded.
And then some ladies on the other side said, “I know his mama has to be so proud. She's got a football star for a son.”
“Yeah. But it's not like they need any more money.”
“I guess the rich keeps on getting richer, huh?”
“We all packed all over him like a colony fighting over a piece of chicken.”
“He is a cute little boy, though,” a lady said.
“You need to hook him up with Clarice.”
“Say what? Chile
, please.”
At that moment I choked on a piece of chicken, trying to contain my laugh. I didn't wanna eat and run, but I was sorta tired of being put on display. I quickly played a couple of games with Damarius and his cousins. The last game wore me out.
“Aww, man, you ain't 'bout to jet now, are you?” Damarius asked.
“Yeah. I gotta get on home.”
“What's wrong with you, Perry? You seem ... I don't know.”
“No, I'm cool. It's just that—”
“What, my people treating you too special? I know you used to it by now. You on the news every Friday night and you done been to the best schools in the ACC and the SEC for recruiting trips. Get used to the spotlight.”
“Boy, you crazy. I ain't nobody. I'm just a plain person. But it's hard to explain.”
“You'll get over that way of thinking,” he said as he patted me on the back.
I got in the car and played my Christian CD. I didn't wanna get the big head. I wanted to stay humble.
The next day I had to go to dinner at Justin's house. It was a sit-down Sunday feast. I was meeting his people, but it was the same overkill
. “Perry is the best at this. Perry can do that.”
Like I was some TV star or something.
After dinner I wasn't at all frustrated when his little cousin who was in the 4th grade asked me to come outside and throw balls. He said he wanted to be a quarterback one day so I told him to try it out on me.
“You got skills, lil' man,” I said.
“You know it!” he yelled out.
He hailed another one my way. I could tell he had been working on this.
Before we went inside, he said, “Perry, can I ask you a question?”
“Sure.”
“I play middle school ball and I'm really nervous that I'm not gonna be as good as you when I get to high school. You got any advice for me? I want people to think I'm the man, too, when I get up there.”
“That's not why I'm standing here in front of you now with a little respect.” He had a puzzled look on his face. “What I'm trying to say is I play football because I love it, not because I want people to cheer my name. Being able to go off to school on a scholarship to play college ball is a dream of mine. So is making it into the NFL. If I don't play hard now, then I won't be as good in the big leagues. I can tell you this: I believe and trust in God. Do you believe in God?” He nodded his head. “Well, keep praying for Him to help you. And remember: do everything you can to glorify God. It's not about football or people screaming your name, but in the end you use your playing football to get people more lifted in Him.”
He smiled. “Oh, I got it!”
“So, I'm not saying don't work for what you want. Keep on practicing, keep on hoping, keep on believing and keep on praying. Either way you gon' be all right.” As I talked to the little guy I was talking to myself as well. “Just remember, it's not about people thinking you're all that. Just stay focused and keep praising His name.”
13
Taking Deep Risks
“
A
ll right, men, this is the beginning of the moment you guys have been waiting for all season long,” Coach Robinson said to us before our first playoff performance. “You're superior to this team in every way. But don't be fooled. Don't think that you're all that. They still can find a way to beat you. They're probably gonna come out here with the best plays you've ever seen just so they can defeat the highest seed. We have three games left at home to play and if we win, then we're headed on to the Dome. I want each of you to take a few minutes to reflect before we go out there and warm up. Don't take this game lightly. The best team today wins.”
As we gathered around Coach Robinson, we were hyped. We were excited. We were ready for battle. I had come close to getting to the Dome on other teams, but I never actually got there. We also never had home field advantage. Since this year had gone so quickly, this was the time to make a difference.
I just looked around and watched some of the guys get taped up extra tight. Other guys were hitting each other with pads, making sure they were prepared for the battle to come. Some of the players were studying playbooks.
And then I noticed Damarius in the corner. He was real jittery. His cleats were shaking. He was wrapping his wrists real tight. He was bopping his head up and down. I didn't know what was wrong with my friend.
“Hey, dude. What's going on wit you?” I asked as I hit his shoulder pads.
“I don't know, Perry, man. I'm just nervous 'bout this one. Our old coach is here. And he told me on the phone earlier this week that he was coming to see me.”
“What? He's coming to scout you for Fort Valley?” Damarius chewed on his fingers and said, “Yeah, he said that if I pull up a few grades, then he might finally take me for a ride.”
“Well, you know what you gotta do. You gotta get out there and do your thing, man.”
My friend kept his head down. The boy I knew as a show-boater seemed deflated before he could even get started to show off. I felt compelled to pull him out of his slump.
“I don't understand this, Damarius. You been wanting this all year. You've just wanted a chance for a shot at college ball. This is your day for another big interception. It was your play that got us to the playoffs. Our defense is tight. You own the secondary,” I said, hoping he'd feel me and agree.
“Wish I had something to take the pressure away,” he muttered. “Just something to take my mind off this and take my brain up another level.”
“Boy, what you talking 'bout?” I asked angrily. “You talking about drugs? Steroids or something?”
“Everybody ain't got natural skills, all right?”
“Be for real. You don't need to throw your future away with nothing like that.”
“Yeah, right. You know if you was to get hurt one day, you'd be wanting to take something to pump your game up a notch, too.”
“First of all, D, you ain't hurt. And second, you don't know me if you think I'd do some dumb crap like that. Look here, I ain't trying to force the Word of God on you or nothing, but since you talking about what I would do, I'm trying to pray more. You believe in God, don't you, man?”
“Yeah, I know the Man Upstairs.”
“Well, talk to Him,” I said as I placed my hand on his shoulder. “Let him know that you need His help down here.”
I walked away, leaving my friend in his deep thoughts. I knew I was gonna pray for him but I wanted him to take his words to God himself. This was a big game—even though Lucy Laney was favored to win by twenty-one points. Like Coach said, “You don't take anything for granted.”
Since the guys in the locker room also looked timid, I went to talk to Coach Robinson and asked, “Hey, Coach, you mind if I lead the team prayer when we take the field?”
“Perry, that's fantastic,” Coach Robinson said excitedly. “I didn't know you would take that kind of initiative.”
Then I actually started second-guessing my decision. I didn't want the guys thinking I was a punk because I started to pray. But I dismissed that thought altogether. Though it wasn't my norm, I knew deep down that anything for God was worth it.
After Coach gave his pep talk, he turned it over to me. I prayed.
“Lord, the pressure is gaining here. Football is our life, and being successful at it is our dream. We're coming to You right now, happy that You allowed us to be healthy and play this game today. Let our minds be clear, and Your will be done. In Jesus's name, Amen.”
“You didn't pray for us to win!” Marlon shouted rudely.
I didn't even answer him 'cause I knew my prayer spoke for itself. To me it wasn't about winning and losing. It was about God protecting all my teammates from damnation. I wanted them to find God just as I had. I just wanted us to have peace, and peace that only came from Him.
At halftime when were leading 27-0, the guys came to me and said, “Good prayer, man. Good prayer.”
Even Damarius was talking about God being with him. Most of the guys were asking me about my relationship with Him. I didn't know what to share, but I spoke from the heart.
We won the game, but more importantly, guys were being drawn to Christ. My risk of showing how I felt about the Almighty was paying off. To God be the glory.
 
Two weeks later we had completed our third victory. We were now getting ready for the state championship game. We were slated to play Salem High School in Conyers, Georgia, Lance's school. I'd been hoping his team would get knocked off earlier so we wouldn't have to play them, but I was ready to give it my all. I was going to be a leader during practice.
When Coach gave us a break, I saw Damarius huddled over, like he was about to die. I hurried over to him. Then he started scratching around the seat of his shorts. He was moving his leg from side to side, just squirming. I extended my arms and shrugged my shoulders, giving him that look of bewilderment.
Then he leaned over and said, “Man, you gotta take me to that doctor again. I ain't straight.”
“What? D, man, what's up?”
“I don't know, Perry. It ain't no burn or anything.”
“Man, you been using protection? I know this lil' problem you got ain't come from Ciara.”
“No, no. She been trying to play hard to get, so I just been having fun in other places. I'm just keeping it real. Don't be looking at me like that.”
“You done got another disease. What you gon' do about that?” I asked him.
“You think it's a disease?”
“You ain't acting normal! I don't know that much about STDs, but scratching and squirming ... I don't know.”
“Can you take me?”
“We gotta finish practice first, so you gotta wait.”
“I don't really need practice today.” He gripped between his shorts and fell to his knees. “It's like a sore or something. I don't really feel good.”
He didn't want me to put his business out there so I asked Coach to just sit him on the sidelines and then we got special permission to leave early.
When we were on the way to the doctor's office, he was acting like I couldn't get there fast enough.
“I can't explain it. The sensations for the last couple of days haven't been too good. I don't know if I done scratched up my flesh or what's going on.”
“I can't believe you got me taking you to the doctor again. Tell me, D, was the sex worth it?”
“It was then, but it sure ain't right now. And I don't know which one of them nasty girls I'm gonna have to go off on. They done gave me something where I have to take medicine again.”
I didn't wanna say it to him, but he had better hope it was curable.
 
After his tests, Dr. Hanceby motioned for Damarius to come into his office.
“Come on, man. Come with me,” Damarius said to me.
“Man, those are your test results. I don't wanna go in there,” I said emphatically, knowing I didn't want to know his business.
“Doc, is it okay if he comes, you know, like last time?” Dr. Hanceby replied, “Yes, if it's okay for me to share the results with the both of you.”
“Yeah. It's straight. That's my boy. What's going on with me?”
“You have herpes,” Dr. Hanceby said with a serious expression to Damarius.
I didn't exactly know what herpes was, but I knew it wasn't something he wanted to have. The doctor wasn't looking optimistic. Damarius wasn't getting the picture.
“So what I got to take, Doc? What I gotta do to get rid of this? My mama got a medical card. I could do the copay. It hurts, seems like it's getting bigger. The back of my leg feels numb. I just need something.”
“Well, young man, I've got good news and bad news for you. Which do you want first?”
“Just give it to me straight, Doc. What's up?” Damarius asked.
“The good news is I can give you some medicine to take care of what's ailing you now.”
“Well, it ain't no bad news,” Damarius said while standing up and hitting himself on the chest, like he was proud of himself.
“Herpes isn't something that has a cure at this time.”
All of a sudden, my friend started frowning. Finally he took the doctor seriously and just remained still.
“Well, I thought you just said that you could give me medicine to get rid of this.”
“That's medicine for the outbreak and for the symptoms. It will go away temporarily, but for now you'll have this for life.”
“I'll always have these outbreaks?” Damarius asked in a deflated tone.
The doctor slowly nodded. It wasn't something that could kill my boy, but it was a lifetime disease. Regardless of what he thought about his few nights of passion with different girls before, clearly, he should have wished he could take all that back.
 
“So, D, you gon' tell Ciara this, right?” I asked as we drove home.
“Heck naw, man, and you ain't, either,” he said forcibly.
I couldn't believe what I was hearing. How selfish! Damarius went on to say that he'd work it out, and that he didn't care about my thoughts on the subject.
When we got to his house, he said, “Man, thanks for the ride, but stay out my business. Everybody ain't no goody-goody like you.”
“D, don't feed me that bull. I think you're a punk if you don't tell Ciara what she has been exposed to,” I said.
“What, so you gon' front on me like that? Shoot, Perry, stay out my business and my life. You ain't nobody's daddy!”
He got out my car and slammed the door. We were through. I didn't care.
 
Though it was windy, I was out in my backyard shooting hoops. With the championship game right around the corner, I had too many thoughts running through my mind. I was still out when the sun went down, looking up at the Georgia sky. I took the chance to feel closer to God.
As I turned my face toward the sky when I made a sweet three-point shot, my nose brushed against the wind. To me that felt like God saying, “Boy, I got you! Keep following my path, and you'll be straight.”
“Lord, just help me keep it real for You,”
I prayed.
“Help me be a Christ-like example ...”
Before I could finish praying, I heard a car pull up in my driveway all fast. Quickly, I looked up and moved out the way. Cole came rushing over to me.
“I know something's wrong. What you done did, man?” I asked jokingly.
“Man, I messed up everything.” Cole was a bundle of nerves.
“What you talking about?” I asked, as I tried to make sense of what he was not saying.
He just paced back and forth. He was mumbling to himself, with his hands pointed toward the sky. He was making circles. He was making me nervous!
“Cole, stop. Tell me what's up.”
“It's Briana.”
“What about her, she hurt or something?”
“She might be pregnant.” He fell to the ground.
I just took the ball and threw it against the backboard. “Man, you serious?”
Brianna was in the eleventh grade, and Cole had just agreed to accept a full scholarship to the University of South Carolina. The two of them didn't need to be nobody's parents. This was a hot mess. Then I realized he said that she
might be
pregnant.
I asked, “So this isn't confirmed?”

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