Hello, King

Why did I address you as King? That is a great question, and I’m glad you asked. I call you King because who I am on the inside calls out who you are on the inside. How we view ourselves is often how we view others. I view myself as a King; therefore, that is how I view who you are too. “King” is not just a title; it is who you are at your core, which then sets your code of conduct and way of living.  But I did not always see myself this way. My parents divorced when I was 13, and for the first time in my life, I experienced pain like never before in my heart. The man who I had grown to love and admire was not only leaving my mother, but he was walking out of my life. My father had been my hero, and he could do no wrong until he was no longer the man of the house. I transitioned into the role of a surrogate father to my sisters and a friend to my mother. I was the strong one, but even I had my moments of weakness. The football field became my outlet to unleash all the pain, resentment, and anger without repercussions. I never, ever talked about my pain. Football was my coping mechanism; it was how I identified myself because I didn’t have a male figure or role model to teach me I could be more. After a successful college career, I began pursuing a dream to play on Sundays. I was a free agent on the market looking for an NFL home that would allow me to continue my coping. The Green Bay Packers gave me that opportunity. I did everything right, but the football Gods chose to see my fate otherwise. I was sent home with no contract and with the suspense of “stay in shape, and we will call.” The call never came.