Requiem for a Broken Dream.
-
Captain Canada
- Posts: 5033
- Joined: 01 Dec 2018, 00:15
Requiem for a Broken Dream.
That Kam pack about to be smoked with the quickness, huh?
Requiem for a Broken Dream.
Kam ain't no Royce, stay ready so you don't have to get ready. Crash yourself out so you never get crashed out
Requiem for a Broken Dream.
Season 5, Episode 16 (Season Finale)
Kam kept an eye on the road, alternating between looking through the windshield and then back towards his rearview mirror, looking for any sign of movement. He leaned against the door, keeping his head low and his right hand on the gear stick.
“It’s a lot of white bitches up there?”
Kam shrugged, not particularly interested in the conversation, “I mean, I guess, not like there’s not a bunch of white girls down here either.”
“I’m talking quality milk,” Andre laughed, “Why you think Johnny never messed with his own kind?”
“Fuck up what happened to him,” Kam commented, his tone somber, unaware of his last acts.
“The whole crew really gone,” Andre continued, his secrets buried in that cell.
“How’s Marcus’ people, his baby moms and shit?”
“She doesn’t really pop out like that anymore,” he answered, “I mean, even before everything went down, you know how she was, wasn’t really fucking with Marcus.”
The conversation was interrupted by a car pulling up to the side street, flashing their headlights and parking about two car lengths behind Kam’s car.
“Stay in here,” Andre instructed as he got out of the car.
Kam now kept his eyes fixated on the rearview mirror, following Andre as he walked to the driver’s side window, briefly exchanging words before getting into the back seat of the car. Kam’s heart rate picked up with each passing moment, every fiber of his being telling him to drive off. How well did he really know Andre, if at all? They hung out a few times during that summer but then he got pinched, never to be heard from again until a few months ago when he reached out via social media to congratulate Kam on his success.
Nevertheless, Kam needed something and now that he was back in town, Andre was the last vestige of his connection to that side of the world.
Andre emerged from the car, dapping up the driver before slowly walking back to the car, opening the door just as the other car whizzed past them.
Kam exhaled as Andre sat down, pulling out the purchase from his waistband.
“It’s clean or at least he told me it was,” Andre warned as he passed it to Kam, who examined it in his hands, “I still wouldn’t get caught with that motherfucker if I was you, though.”
…
The Christmas lights helped provide guidance in the dark room as Kam stumbled into the house, not being as familiar as he was with the previous apartment. He had walked into that apartment in a similar state plenty of times, relying on muscle memory to navigate his way to his bedroom without waking up his sleeping father.
Kam found himself in the kitchen, opening the fridge door and enjoying the cool air as a smile came onto his face. The night out had blend into the early morning, finally able to ingratiate himself with the various well known establishments throughout the city now that he was of age, partaking in the cultural landmarks such as Mont Venus and the likes. He grabbed a water bottle, only taking a few sips before placing it back onto the shelf, closing the door as the room once again darkened.
“Kam?”
He heard the approaching steps, accepting his fate as he took a seat on the kitchen counter, throwing his head back as he looked onto the ceiling.
“You good, man?” Kwame asked, turning on the kitchen lights.
“Yeah,” Kam muttered, “Sorry for waking you.”
“I’m just glad you didn’t wake the baby up,” Kwame responded, concern in his voice, “Kam, I know you’re becoming your own man and you’re grown and all but…”
“Come on, pops,” Kam groaned, “Not tonight, please? You’re the one that asked me to come down here for Christmas break, what do you want me to do, just hang out in the guest room all day?”
“I’m seeing that old Kam again,” he warned him, “I saw it in your eyes in Dallas and I’ve been seeing it since you’ve been back. Dr. Bracco told me that she pretty much had to drop you since you stopped coming to appointments.”
“Y’all want there to be something wrong with me so bad,” Kam laughed.
“It might look fine on the outside,” Kwame scoffed, “But when you look in the mirror, what do you see? What do you really see? Would your mom be proud of that man?”
…
Kam hurried out of the house, eager not to wake anyone up. He locked the door behind him as he walked over to the car, throwing the last of his bags into the trunk. He pulled the weapon out of his waistband, stuffing it into one of the compartments in the trunk.
He got into the driver’s seat, typing the address into his phone as the driving instructions came up on the dashboard. It’d be a long drive but with limited stops, he’d be spending Christmas Eve in his own apartment, by himself, enjoying some Chinese food.
Requiem for a Broken Dream.
We know he ain’t Royce. Royce never simped behind no woman he wasn’t fucking. Especially one in New York getting trains run on her by hipsters in SoHo.
And Kam better start learning Japanese. The league not in his future.
-
Captain Canada
- Posts: 5033
- Joined: 01 Dec 2018, 00:15
Requiem for a Broken Dream.
If there's one thing Kam hates, its facing the truth
Requiem for a Broken Dream.
Requiem for a Broken Dream.
Got a feeling Kan gonna get burned with that piece sooner or later. That 3rd party transaction is a dubb
Requiem for a Broken Dream.
Season 6, Episode 1
Kam sensed the weakside linebacker crashing in and adjusted his body to avoid the reaching arm. He tried to burst through the hole into the secondary, but his legs never got churning, and he was brought down after a modest gain.
Rasheem barked orders to the offense while Kam was still getting off the ground, too tired to comprehend the words. He staggered into the backfield, his mouthpiece dangling as he tried to suck in more air.
The ball was snapped, and Kam, once again out of position, fumbled the handoff from Rasheem, throwing off the timing of the play. The defensive line had already penetrated the backfield by the time Kam started moving upfield, and the whistle quickly blew.
“Just get out,” Coach Hamdan instructed, shaking his head as he buried his face in the laminated play sheet.
Kam obliged, removing his helmet while still on the field and ignoring the animated gestures from the sideline urging him to hurry. He walked past his position coach, Coach Boulware, and took a seat on the bench away from the team.
“You good?” Coach Boulware prodded, trying to gauge which version of his star running back he was getting for the rest of practice.
“My feet hurt,” Kam muttered, searching for an excuse to cut practice short.
“Which one?”
“Does it matter?” Kam scoffed, unclipping his shoulder pads.
…
“Gotta have it, come on, defense!”
Jamal scanned the backfield, lowering into his stance. He pressed his palm against his thigh, eagerly anticipating the snap as he had a good read on Pierce’s cadence.
The ball was snapped, and Jamal took a step back, turning his head towards the slot receiver to gauge the depth of his route. Tyrus exploded out of his stance before throttling down, stuttering his feet at the top of his route before making a hard move inside.
Jamal came off his spot, lowering his shoulder and tilting his head to the side as he drove his shoulder pad into Tyrus’ chest just as the ball reached his fingertips.
Jamal quickly rose to his feet, signaling the incompletion as he skipped off to the sideline with the rest of the defense, whooping and hollering.
…
“We can’t possibly not start him, right?”
“What does that even mean, practically speaking?” Coach Stoops inquired, knowing he’d be the one fielding calls from their collective after the game. “If we want to send him a wake-up call and list Kyrie as the starter, I’m fine with that. But in-game, what are we doing?”
“I understand it’s a bottom-line business,” Coach Hamdan began, “If we start him, he gets most of the carries like last year, and who knows what kind of long-term impact that has. Kyrie has been just as good all camp, forget the spring.”
“He was damn near two-fifty in the spring,” coach Boulware scoffed, “I don’t think it does us any good to judge him based off that. He’s got the weight back down, he’s moving a lot better…”
“He missed most of the goddamn summer workouts, was hungover at the ones that he did show up to and maybe actually finished one or two workouts. He then used the beginning of camp to get back into shape, if we can even call it that, and now he’s just walking through practice, expecting to get thirty touches against Akron,” coach Hamdan continued, “I mean, at some point, enough is enough.”
“We’ve got Miami in two weeks, gentlemen,” coach Stoops interjected, “I need the best team that I can field heading into that game, I don’t give a shit about Akron. Y’all figure it out, understood?”
…
Kam used his key to tear open the letter, chucking it into the trash once he realized it was a solicitation. He walked out of the mailbox area and got back into his car, courtesy of the school’s collective.
He drove through the complex, reaching his building and parking in his usual spot. It had been a lighter day of practice, but he was still adjusting to the ramped-up physicality after months of reprieve.
He grabbed his bag and hurried up the steps, a cold shower and some takeout in his near future. His plans changed when he reached the top step and saw the familiar figure waiting by the door.
“Forgot about our appointment,” he smiled, leaning in for a kiss.
“You really expect me to believe that?” Ashley laughed as they made their way inside his off-campus apartment.
Requiem for a Broken Dream.
I see the headline now: The X-League's Fujitsu Frontiers sign former Ball State and Kentucky running back Kamaldeen Seidu-Harris. Konichiwa, Kamaldeen!