Season 5, Episode 9
Kam glanced at his phone one last time before shoving it into his pocket. He took a sip from his cup, the harsh taste a necessary evil to avoid the empty calories of a chaser.
Auburn’s record didn’t matter as the partygoers celebrated, seizing any excuse to let loose.
“Walk in their trap, took over their trap,” Rasheem boasted to Avery, the third-year corner.
“I know they’re tight as hell down there,” he shook his head, one of the handful of players from the state of Alabama, “They probably looked at the schedule and thought that was going to be one of their SEC wins.”
“For sure,” Rasheem nodded in agreement, “Everybody back home think we sweet too.”
“We’re going to smack the shit out of them,” Marlon chimed in, “Like we really gonna do their ass in.”
Kam stayed focused on his drink, uninterested in the banter. Whether they were the sixth or eighth worst team in the conference didn’t matter to him. The only remaining team on the schedule with a winning record was Florida, and competing to be the best of the worst wasn’t his priority.
Unlike the others, Kam was the only one who had to step between the white lines, while the rest enjoyed the luxury of being redshirts and reserves.
Bored, Kam floated around the crowded off-campus apartment, his cup never far from his lips. He occasionally checked his phone, casually texting Yassy throughout the night.
Their conversations weren’t of substance either, just the obligatory chit-chat between partners miles apart. It was a quiet Saturday night for her, but she insisted he go out to celebrate, not wanting him to miss out on the perks of being a student-athlete.
A smile crept onto Kam’s face as he noticed his roommate leaned over the counter, his girlfriend desperately trying to get him to drink some water.
“You’re good?” Kam asked, helping tilt the water bottle into his mouth, “I told your ass to chill out.”
They had been playing beer pong with hard liquor back in the dorms before heading out and yet Kyrie still felt he needed another shot as they exited their apartment and took another upon arrival.
“Them boys got me fucked up,” Kyrie slurred, drawing an eyeroll from Ashley, “Ain’t nobody a fucking lightweight.”
“Who called you that?” Kam intentionally stoked the flames, finding his drunken state amusing.
“One of them hating ass old niggas,” Kyrie pointed to no one in particular before resting his head back on the counter.
“Don’t get him started again,” Ashley held her palm out to Kam, grabbing the cup from his hand and taking a sip, “Goddamn, where the fuck are y’all coming from, Iraq?”
“That’s what it felt like at first,” Kam laughed, “That bitch got real quiet though.”
“You’re not tired from the game, the flight?”
“I took a shower before we left and another one when we got here,” Kam shrugged, “I’m wide awake, not for long though.”
He held his cup up, taking a final swig.
“Pour some more,” Kyrie grabbed the empty cup, shaking it. “We got some shots?”
Kam and Ashley exchanged a look before bursting into laughter, which Kyrie joined, none the wiser.
“Can you help me with him?” she asked, her tone softening.
“What’s the move?”
…
“Fucking hell,” Kam muttered as he fumbled into his pocket, looking for his keys.
“I got it,” Ashley reached her hand over, pulling the lanyard out and opening the door.
Kam was methodical with his steps, careful to keep his hand wrapped around Kyrie’s waist as he guided him into the apartment. Ashley ran her hand through the wall until she found the switch, turning the lights on to reveal the empty apartment.
“I told y’all I’m good,” Kyrie tried to walk under his own power but stumbled in his first few steps, Kam quickly bringing him back within his grasp.
“We know,” Kam appeased him, “We’re just talking a little walk is all.”
As was the case throughout the trek, Kyrie would slip in and out of consciousness. They finally reached his door, Ashley using his keys to open the door before Kam plopped him on the bed, stretching out his back.
“This was harder than the fucking game today,” Kam held his arms over his head, quicky regretting his words than had woken Kyrie back up.
“Appreciate you gang,” Kyrie dapped him up, keeping his eyes closed.
“You need some water, babe?” Ashley stammered, the liquor catching up to her as well.
“I’m straight,” Kyrie waved her off, “Just come lay with a nigga real quick.”
“This bed does not fit two people,” she had learned the hard way, “I don’t need you throwing up in my hair and shit.”
“You’re serious?”
“Yes,” she insisted, “I’m going home, I’ll text you in the morning, if you’re alive.”
“You see how they treat a nigga?” Kyrie joked, amusing himself, “Yo, Kam, do me a favor big dawg.”
“What’s up?” Kam ran his hand through his face, the long day and alcohol starting to run him down.
“Can you walk her to her spot?” Kyrie asked, “I’ll owe you one, OG.”
The prospect of another journey was not the most appealing to Kam, but he’d have wanted the same if the roles were reversed, “I got you, bro.”
…
Despite lacking the latest dorm model, the girls had infused their space with more vibrancy than Kam and his roommates. Their walls were adorned with decorative art, and the room was filled with an array of charming accessories.
“I know y’all fucked HomeGoods up,” Kam took a seat at the kitchen table, grabbing the water bottle that Ashley had just handed to him, “Thanks.”
“I’m not going to live like I’m in jail,” she laughed as she disappeared into her room where Kam could overhear the shuffling around, opening and closing of doors.
She reappeared in more comfortable attire: sweatpants and a cropped hoodie that showcased her sculpted physique. Kam glanced at the kitchen clock, which read 4:04, as the late night seamlessly transitioned into early morning.
“Thanks for the water,” Kam stammered, keeping his eyes low as it was evident she wasn’t wearing a bra.
As he fumbled around with the bottle cap, she was now within close distance, her eyes adverting his as she moved forward.
He did not protest as their bodies touched, first her hand on his shoulder and then her lips on his, first with a soft kiss and then a more passionate one.
His mind was telling him one thing, not wanting to hurt anybody, but his body was telling him another.
Season 5, Episode 10
"Block the motherfucker in front of you," Kam spat towards his offensive lineman as he readied himself, looking towards the sideline as the play was signaled in.
Kam flexed his fingers within his gloves, the defense once again presenting a favorable front. The ball was snapped and just like the play before, the defender freed himself from the left guard's grasp and quickly enveloped Kam, bringing him to the ground.
Slamming the ball into the ground, Kam used it to push himself off the grass, his eyes in quick search for the culprit.
"Just block the motherfucker!" Kam screamed at him, "It's a simple fucking base block."
Kam was continuing to mouth off before Brock pulled him back, pointing him to the sideline as they continued to hurry up the offense. The coaches relayed the play in, another run despite the third and long as they were backed up near their own goal line.
"I swear," Kam muttered to himself as he got into his stance, biting down on his mouth piece.
For the third straight play, the defender got off Jager's, the left guard, block but Kam bent his run to the outside, picking up one or two yards before being brought down. He quickly got back up, his frustration split between the play calling and Jager, his earlier fumble fueling his rage.
"If the motherfucker can't block, why the fuck we running behind at him?" he screamed on his way to the sideline, clashing shoulders with multiple teammates as he violently took his helmet off, looking up the heavens.
"Chill out, bro," Ben, the senior left tackle, came over to the fuming running back, trying to calm him down.
"Ain't no chill out," Kam raised his voice and his ire, "Y'all motherfuckers getting me killed back there!"
"Just run the rock, baby," Jordan, another senior, joined in, "We'll figure it out."
"It's been this shit all season," Kam threw his helmet towards the bench, clashing near the huddled group of offensive linemen, headed by offensive line coach Eric Wolford.
"Worry about your own problems," coach Wolford butted in, "Let me coach my fucking guys, how about that?"
"Get them niggas to fucking block, how about that?"
"Hang on to the fucking ball, that's a start!" coach Wolford took a step toward Kam but coach Boulware was quick to jump in, pulling Kam away.
"We don't need that right now," he reminded him, "We still got a whole half to play!"
...
"Picked off and Ole Miss is going to hang on to their lead heading into halftime, up 14-0!"
...
Just as Kam turned around, the ball found its way to his glove, quickly tucking it in before turning back around, follow Jager's block into the second level. He cut back inside, bracing himself as several defenders drove him into the ground.
"Get your weight up, pussy," Kam told them, not paying no mind to the nearby official.
"Watch it, blue!" the official reprimanded him.
"He can't save you," Kam looked at the defender before pointing to the official, "I'm running through your shit."
...
"Seidu-Harris lowers his shoulder and almost picks up the first down on that first down run!"
...
Jager sealed his defender off, the gap parting like the red sea as Kam accelerated, staying tight off Ben's block just as the linebacker came screaming in. With a forceful extension of his right arm, Kam shoved his outstretched hand into his facemask, pushing him off and using him as a propeller into the secondary. He was pushed out of bounds by three defenders which did little to stop Kam's mouth.
"Little ass boy! Get your weight up fucking bitch ass nigga!" he yelled to one defender, another quickly coming to their defense and getting in Kam's face, "Do something about it, pussy!"
"That's enough!" the official separated them, commanded them to go to their respective huddles.
...
As soon as Kam got the handoff, a defender was already in his face, basking in the opportunity to light him up. Realizing his doomed fate, Kam tossed the ball back to an unsuspected Brock who had the awareness to scoop it and go up field, getting back to near the line of scrimmage.
"Don't worry about my guys blocking if you're going to do that shit!" coach Wolford seized on the opportunity,
"Man, get the fuck out my face," Kam muttered loud enough for coach Wolford to overhear but the veteran coach thought better of it, opting to attend to his group instead.
...
Kam's eyes widened as he saw the defensive back get near, his feet not fully under him and his pad level way too high. It was the things that bigger back dreamed off as Kam lowered his shoulder, bringing his right arm up with force as he tucked the ball away on the left side, throwing the defender off him. He tiptoed along the sideline before another defender was able to push him out of bounds.
Kam quickly turned around in pursuit of the defender he had just trucked, making sure he was in his path to the huddle.
"Your momma raised a whole bitch, 28. Don't get in my way again, pussy ass fuck nigga," Kam was careful this time to keep his voice low, not bothering to turn around to hear the defender's rebuttal.
...
"Vandagriff is going to be sacked here as the Wildcats, despite some good running from Kamaldeen Seidu-Harris is going to have to settle for another field goal."
...
Kam wasn't fan of outside zone plays but the offense executed it to perfection with the offensive linemen getting to the second level in complete sync with Kam who fought off a defender for as long as he could before being brought down by two of them.
He tossed the ball to the official, opting to address his teammates this time around instead.
"Y'all keep blocking and I'm going to keep running that bitch!" he dapped up Jager and the rest of the guys, "They're sorry as fuck, I promise you."
...
"Third and inches here after the two-minute warning, Kentucky running out of time here as they run the ball and they do pick it up with Seidu-Harris. They're out of timeouts so they'll need a score and a two-point conversion here to keep this game alive, down eight."
...
"Me and fucking Barion," Kam told Brock as they waited for the play call, "Ride with us, bro."
Brock nodded in approval, his brow furrowing.
...
"What an acrobatic catch by Ja'Mori Maclin to get the ball down to the two-yard line, great throw from Vandagriff! The Wildcats offense are going to hurry to the line, you have to imagine that they're going to give it to Seidu-Harris and they do as he rumbles and tumbles his way into the endzone!"
...
"I got fucking big dog status!" Kam flexed to the crowd, feeding off their raucous energy. He was mobbed by the rest of the offense who soon returned his attention to the sideline, still needing a two-point conversion.
With no timeouts, they formed a sugar huddle, the offensive linemen bunched in as they waited with anticipation.
"I don't know," Kam looked over to Brock, "Fuck it, just call something else."
"We're good," Brock reassured him as he began barking orders before joining Kam in the backfield, two-yards separating joy and agony.
Kam took a deep breath, both in anticipation of the play and in an effort to mitigate his reaction to the result. He fully expected Brock to opt for the bubble screen to Barion who was uncovered but when the ball was snapped, the edge players rushed up field, opening up the middle of the field. Kam clamped down, not believing his eyes as he galloped into the endzone.
...
"Kentucky just needs a field goal here after getting a stop on defense in the first period of overtime. Handoff to Seidu-Harris, his 30th of the night, and he's going to pick up the first down."
...
In any other situation, Kam would have tapped his helmet and jogged off the field. His heart was beating out of his chest, his legs completely gone and aching pain throughout his body. He looked up towards Brock, desperation in his eyes.
The ball was snapped and Kam ran to the flats, hoping the ball wasn't going to be thrown to him. He turned his head around to see Brock loading up for the throw.
"Fuck," he thought to himself as he tracked the ball, watching it float in the sky and land in between several defenders Ja'Mori ran right under it.
"Holy fucking shit," he laughed as he sprinted towards the endzone, no longer preoccupied with his tired legs or aching body.
Season 5, Episode 11
“Lana be on bullshit,” Kam took a vigorous sip from his drink before going back to picking at his fries.
“I’m just saying, she wouldn’t have been on bullshit if y’all was together like I told you to,” Jamal countered, playing with the straw that extended from his plastic cup.
“Bro, you’re the one that told me not to take it there with her.”
“Yeah,” Jamal was puzzled, “After you didn’t ask her out in the first place when I told you to and let her hook up with a bunch of other niggas. You would have crashed out once you find out and she was already your girl for real.”
“It’s whatever,” Kam shrugged.
“No, it ain’t,” Jamal scoffed, “Now you got our girl out here with a bunch of lame ass, goofy hipster niggas.”
“They ain’t that bad,” Kam laughed, reminding himself of the few times he hung out with her college friends over the winter break.
“It takes a special group of motherfuckers to make visiting the city trash bro,” Jamal shook his head, “I used up all my bread and shit.”
“Yeah, right,” Kam gave him a side-eye, aware of how he ended up at Louisville.
“You know my daddy got me on some salary type shit,” he drank from his straw, “I get a nice little deposit in a couple of weeks, but that money’s already spent with Christmas.”
“What you’re getting your girl? I’ve never really had to buy a girl a gift like that before,” Kam pondered, “Not on no adult shit.”
“For a bitch you ain’t fucking? Some coal,” Jamal chuckled at his own quip, earning a stern look from Kam, “Listen, I took Psych and I’m all fucking sympathetic to the plight of victims and all that shit but come on, man, she kind of played you with that. I mean, if she wasn’t really ready to be with a nigga, she should have stayed single or be up front about it or date an asexual motherfucker or something.”
“You think those are real?”
“What, asexual?”
“Yeah.”
“I mean, I’ve never met one,” Jamal shrugged, “A nigga being asexual just mean he don’t get no pussy and got tired of working for it. Now, a girl, that’s about a fifty-fifty proposition. What’s up, you think she might be that?”
“I don’t think so,” Kam replied, “I mean, we do stuff, like up to a certain point and then she’ll just like stop. I’m not trying to trigger her or anything, but it’s also fucked up because half the time, I’m not even on that type of time and you invite it just to give a nigga blue balls?”
“I’m the last nigga to give relationship advice,” Jamal warned, “But, if I were you, I’d just find something less stressful, a little vibe you don’t have to spend too much thinking about. It’s a bitch right now on that campus that will love nothing more than to suck your dig, air fry your ass some wings and fries every now and then and get to say that she’s fucking a nigga on the football team.”
Jamal's guidance, though flawed and oversimplified, had a grain of truth to it. Kam had not shared the specifics of his recent encounter with a fellow teammate's significant other, choosing to keep that knowledge to himself. Yet, being with her did bring him some comfort and an added edge– there was no denying that fact.
“I like her though,” Jamal was quick to add, “She seemed cool as shit when I met her.”
“Nigga,” Kam threw his hands up, “This is the same wishy-washy advice you gave him with Lana and look where that ended up.”
“Not my fault you wasn’t hitting it right, Kamal,” Jamal jokingly grabbed the middle of his forearm, “You gotta be dropping pipe in them hoes, that was your problem down there in Tampa with the bitches. Let me slide to Florida, I’m leaving with at least twenty baby mommas.”
“How is ole girl?” Kam treaded carefully, taking the opportunity to visit a subject they rarely did.
“She doesn’t really talk to me anymore,” Jamal looked down at his fries, “Her momma is the one that’s sending me all the ultrasounds and shit, the bills too.”
“What bills? The baby isn’t even here yet,” Kam scoffed.
“The bitch don’t got no fucking insurance,” Jamal let out a wry chuckle, “It’s pre-natal this, she needs to be eating more of that. She’s about to stop working in a couple of weeks so I already know how they’re coming with it.”
“You’re a real one for that,” Kam commended him, “A lot of niggas would have ran from that.”
“Shit, maybe I should have,” Jamal’s laugh was brief, “I still get a little mini-me at the end of this so it’s all straight.”
“Your girl straight with it and all?”
“She doesn’t care,” Jamal shrugged, “Like I said, she gets to say she’s fucking a nigga on the football team, and she gets a nice little bag, a little designer every now and then, stunt on them hoes. It does make it easier that my baby moms is back home and shit, she might feel different if she had to see the bitch walking across campus every day with my seed in her belly.”
“True that,” Kam nodded along, drawing parallels to his own situation.
…
“The food wasn’t that bad,” Kyrie contested, opening the door and standing to the side as Ashley walked past.
“We really need to take a trip to Texas sometimes,” Ashley shook her head, “You’ll never eat Mexican from any other place after that.”
“Them motherfuckers is right there,” he shrugged as they began walking up the steps, “That ain’t a far comparison.”
“The barbecue too,” she kissed her bunched up fingers, “Just the food in general is so much better.”
“And yet your ass is right back here,” he teased, “Where you belong.”
“I don’t know about all that,” she smiled before looking into her purse, pulling out her key and unlocking the door.
Kyrie went to follow her inside, but she quickly turned around to face him, stopping him in the door way, “Thanks for dinner, it was fun.”
“For sure, for sure,” Kyrie took a step back, trying to assess the situation, “You’re not trying to hang out or something?”
“I’m going to go to sleep,” she leaned in and kissed him, “The coaches are starting to get on our ass about these ‘voluntary morning workouts’, a bitch be tired.”
“Welcome to the club,” he flashed a smile, giving her another kiss, “I’ll hit you when I get home.”
With a final farewell between them, Kyrie strode down the hallway and descended the stairs, while Ashley retreated to her room. She hurriedly took a shower and began her usual nighttime routine, with one small addition. She checked her phone, eagerly anticipating a notification she had been waiting for. Satisfied with her appearance, she rushed to the door and flung it open, excited for her nightly indulgence.
She greeted Kam with a smile as she tugged him through the doorway, teasingly remarking, "Took you long enough."
