Requiem for a Broken Dream.

[Captain Canada]

Growth!

[Soapy]

Growth!

light, tunnel, we here.

[Soapy]

Season 3, Episode 5

Kam slammed the medical ball down, sweat dripping from his brow. He took a moment to catch his breath, then hoisted the ball over his head. The gym’s dim light cast shadows as he exploded onto the box, balancing precariously at the top. He jumped back, hurling the ball against the wall before slamming it to the floor.

Kwame, watching with pride, gasped between breaths, “Looking like me in my prime. But I was a bit more twitchy.”

“And I’m stronger than you,” Kam countered, sitting on the box as he took a reprieve.

The stressful look on his son’s face had been noticeable in the past few days, despite his best attempts, “You can’t worry about everything, man. It’ll fall into it place.”

“Or it won’t,” Kam replied flatly, aware of his reality, “If I just had locked in and snapped this year, none of this would be a problem right now.”

“You’re right,” Kwame remained truthful, “But you didn’t and you’re here now. Look, they have a whole new coaching staff like you said so they’re probably busy as hell, trying to organize everything. They ain’t forget you, they just…working on some other things right now.”

“It’s been like a month,” Kam scoffed, “At this point, I’m just an idiot if I don’t get the message.”

“They’re the dumbass if they don’t won’t you,” Kwame comforted him, “Besides, you got options too.”

“Yeah, right,” Kam said with a sarcastic tone.

“We’re out in Cerritos next week for that visit,” Kwame explained, “Obviously, that ain’t the route you wanted but it’s a route. Justin hitting me up every day for another set of transcripts, he’s on the phone all day with coaches about you. So, things are happening Kam, even if you don’t see them.”

The dullness of the night settled into the dark gym as Kam sat there in silence, his sweat drying up. The darkness of the room was briefly lit up by a notification from Kam’s phone which he initially ignored until it kept flashing every few minutes.

He peeled himself off the now sweaty jump box and walked on over to his phone, squinting as he struggled to read the text message.

“Fuck,” he muttered to himself, “Pops, can I ask you a favor?”

…

Kam looked through the stained window, trying to make out what he was walking himself into. The text messages were clear enough, but the phone call left him in even more confusion, especially when his subsequent return calls went unanswered.

He hadn’t spoken to her in ages yet here she was, laying her head against the table, waiting for him.

Kam’s entrance got everyone’s attention as the door swung open, workers and patrons alike turning their heads to face him. His concealed gun pressed against his back, a reminder of past mistakes. Danny and Mike exchanged glances, nodding towards Raven.

“She called her Uber,” Mike sneered.

Hailey briefly made eye contact before subverting her eyes, returning them to her cell phone as she remained huddled with her friends, their prom outfits unbefitting a Waffle House dining room.

Kam ignored the looks from his former teammates, easily outnumbering him at least six to one just from the ones he recognized, as he went over to Raven, lightly nudging her.

“You alright?” he asked once she lifted her head, revealing the unmistakable stench of tequila.

“Kam!” she said excitedly, somehow managing to slur a three-letter word, “You’re here!”

“You’re good?” he asked her again, looking back over to the group of guys.

“She’s good,” Mike stood up, “Ain’t nobody do nothing to that sloppy bitch.”

Kam took a step toward Mike, the gun in his waistband feeling heavier and heavier but he turned back around to face Raven.

“Come on,” he helped her up, wrapping her arm around his shoulders, “Let’s get out of here.”

…

Kam hurried the car into the driveway, counting his lucky stars that she had managed to not throw up inside his dad’s car. Despite their various hook ups, he had never been to her house, only meeting up at various parties – where Marcus would take Kam – or Marcus’ car or Marcus’ house.

“I don’t want to get you in trouble,” Kam assisted her out of the car, helping lean her up against the hood of the car, “Do you want to like sneak in the back or something?”

“My mom works nights,” she shuffled through her purse, taking out a key, “Not that she’d give a shit anyway.”

He followed her into the house, her balance getting better with every stride before unlocking the door, revealing the inside of a house that was much nicer than what Kam expected. Kam felt a bit guilty, having been inside her plenty of time while knowing very little about her.

She took her shoes off, which improved her gait, as she made her way to the fridge door, the brightness piercing through the dark room. She chugged a water bottle, then another, barely taking the time to breathe between each gulp.

Kam continued to look around the house, trying to envision her daily life inside these walls. Did she like movies, documentaries, music videos?

“Do you want anything?” she peeked her head out from behind the fridge door, tossing him a water bottle before he could answer.

“Thanks,” he replied, taking a small sip before closing the cap, “You were alright back there?”

“Oh, me? Yeah, just wanted to get out of there but Danny was being a dick about it,” she explained, “I don’t know, I probably overreacted, he wouldn’t hurt a fly.”

“Yeah, you seemed pretty gone,” Kam was amazed by how quickly she seemed to be recovering.

“They get a bitch to drink and be mad when a bitch drunk,” she joked, “Thanks for coming though, pretty much everyone else I thought of calling was at prom and probably even more fucked up than I was.”

“That’s not…I didn’t mean it like that,” she corrected herself, “You’re, like, safe, you know? Guys like Johnny, Andre, you’re not like them. You’re good to the core. That’s what I liked about Marcus, you could tell he was a good guy.”

Kam stood there, letting those words sink in.

“My mom won’t come back until morning time,” she suggested, “We can hang out if you want, she has a stash in here somewhere, I know you like your brown.”

“I think you should get some sleep,” Kam smiled, “I’m glad you’re feeling better.”

She approached him, giving him a kiss on the cheek, “Thanks, Kam, have a good night.”

[The JZA]

Now Kam wanna have morals

[Soapy]

Now Kam wanna have morals

[Captain Canada]

he might have had the strap but he ain't blast nobody, ain't fuck nobody he shouldn't have! My boy

[Soapy]

he might have had the strap but he ain't blast nobody, ain't fuck nobody he shouldn't have! My boy

we used to pray for times like this!

[Soapy]

Season 3, Episode 6

“During the summer, they’re closed on Friday, but we typically have some sort of gathering happening anyway on Friday nights and there will be food at those! Outside of that, there’s a ton of options around campus, especially if you want to grab a late-night snack or something.”

“We’re trying to avoid those,” Kwame teased, playfully elbowing Kam.

For what Cerritos College lacked in grandeur, the tour guide was making up with enthusiasm and thoroughness. It was larger than what Kam had anticipated, fully expecting a dying football field surrounded by dull, grey buildings. While it wasn’t Boston College or any of the other D-I schools Kam had visited as a junior, it was a sprawling campus with plenty of green areas and modern looking buildings with an expanded athletic complex.

“The housing situation is what it is with us California JUCOs but there are plenty of affordable apartments around,” Stacey, the tour guide, continued, “That’s what I’m here for, helping our student-athletes get settled and I’ve never had an issue with a player not finding housing. If you need assistance, we’ve always been able to find a safe place for all our players whether it be sharing an apartment with a teammate or finding a family that’s gracious enough to open their doors.”

The thought of living in a stranger’s house was off putting to Kam but this was the bed he had made for himself.

“I know this is a lot,” she laughed, always wanting to fill the dead air, “Anything else before we meet with the coaches? They’re super excited to meet you.”

Kam looked at his father and shrugged, “All good on my end.”

…

As Kam settled into the plush couch, the vaulted glass ceiling above him bathed the room in California sunshine. Across from him, his father and Hector, exchanged banter.

“Uncle Al must have broken you off something nice,” Kwame teased Hector, who had joined them in the living room.

“Mr. Heyman is a very generous man,” Hector chuckled, slightly embarrassed. “You could be living like this too. Kam will just be down the road.”


“I don’t know if a two-hour drive is down the road,” Kwame replied.

“Split the difference,” Hector suggested, “Everyone knows how important you are and how badly I want you in my corner, man. They have some nice houses in Fontana, be an hour from Kam, an hour from the gym.”

Kam’s fascination with Hector’s countryside estate was evident. “If it’s anything like this, I don’t mind driving an hour to class.”

Kwame interjected, practical as always. “With what car?”

“You’ll get a consulting stipend,” Hector interjected, “I’ve seen how these guys operate, some of the guys they’re bringing in have six, seven people on their payroll. Right now, it’s just me and the guys so one or two more heads isn’t going to raise any concern. Especially after I fight on Canelo’s card.”

Kam’s phone buzzed—a 765-area code. He declined the call, returning to the conversation.

“That’s what you need to focus on,” Kwame leaned in, “You don’t need me, you just need to focus, get your weight down early and put on a show, let your hands go.”

“I’m not going to quit trying,” Hector persisted, “This is an opportunity of a lifetime, for both of us. Change our lives, change our kids’ lives.”

“I barely get to spend time with Katy as is,” Kwame scoffed, “If I move out here, all her momma is going to hear is more child support and less visiting time. I may as well sign my baby away and just call her a bill. Taylour ain’t going for it either, she just got a new job for next semester at some private school, almost doubling her pay.”

“I’m not asking you to uproot your life,” Hector continued, “A camp is what, eight to twelve weeks? The first four weeks are just me getting in shape, so I don’t even need you there but that final eight, six weeks sprint to get ready. Come out, still fly back on the weekends and then you’re back home for another two, three months until my next fight.”

“You always tell me to chase my dreams,” Kam interjected, “I’m out here in California, about to go to a freaking JUCO because I’m trying to chase my dreams. Why don’t you chase yours?”

Kam’s words weighed heavy on Kwame as he couldn’t think of a retort, “I don’t know, it’s just…”

The phone rang again, annoying Kam as he quickly declined it.

“You’re scared,” Kam cut him off, “Shit, I’m fucking scared too. It’s either go to BC, end up not making the team and I’m…”

Kam’s phone rang once more, another 765-area code, “What’s the area code around here? I keep getting these spam calls.”

“909,” Hector answered.

“Maybe one of the coaches at Cerritos,” Kwame was glad the topic had changed.

Kam answered the phone on one of its final ring, fully expecting an automated voice trying to sell him a warranty of some kind.

“Hey there, is this Kamal…deen, I hope I’m saying that right.”

“Yeah.”

“Hey Kamaldeen, this is coach Johnson at Ball State, is now a good time?”

[Captain Canada]

Yessir, now is a great time

[Soapy]

Yessir, now is a great time

a great time indeed