Restless Mind
Cam sat in his New York hotel room, staring at the muted glow of the city skyline through the window. The lights of Times Square blinked in the distance, but his thoughts were far from the hustle and energy outside. His suit was neatly hung on the back of a chair, and the television murmured softly with pre-ceremony coverage of the Heisman Trophy ceremony—a ceremony he had nearly convinced himself not to attend.
“This is all so surreal,” he muttered under his breath, running a hand through his hair. But if he was being honest with himself, the surrealism wasn’t as comforting as it was daunting.
His coaches had urged him to make the trip, reminding him that skipping it would only raise questions. “You deserve to be there,” they’d said. “Enjoy it. We’ll keep getting ready for Alabama when you get back.” Cam had reluctantly agreed, though he’d rather be in San Antonio, locked in film sessions or running drills with his teammates. This—the glitz, the attention, the scrutiny—wasn’t what he played for. Football, at its heart, was simple. This was anything but.
He leaned back against the bed’s headboard, letting out a long breath. His restless mind raced. The season had been a whirlwind: 4,800 passing yards, 50 touchdowns, and a playoff berth for UTSA. Yet here he was, a kid from a non-Power Five school, sharing the Heisman stage with Clemson’s Cade Klubnik, Alabama’s Ty Simpson, and Boston College’s Thomas Castellanos.
Cam knew the odds. Klubnik was the frontrunner, leading a Clemson team that seemed to live in the national spotlight. As he sat in his room, he couldn’t help but wonder: did the others feel the same way? Did Simpson or Castellanos truly believe they had a shot, or were they just going through the motions, like him? Did Klubnik already know this was his moment, his trophy to lose? The thought of it all made Cam’s head spin, the uncertainty gnawing at him. Cam’s numbers might have been better, but history wasn’t on his side. Players from schools like UTSA didn’t win Heismans. The thought didn’t bother him as much as it should have. He hadn’t come to New York expecting to win; he’d come because it felt like the right thing to do.
Still, the weight of it all pressed on him. The interviews, the endless travel, the responsibility of representing his team and school on a national stage. And then there was Alabama. The game against the Crimson Tide loomed like a mountain on the horizon, both a challenge and an opportunity. He’d spent countless hours envisioning it—Alabama’s defense, their relentless pass rush, the chess match he’d have to play against their linebackers and secondary. What lay on the other side of that game? Glory, perhaps. Or heartbreak. Either way, it was all that truly mattered to him right now. He wished, for just a moment, that he could step back from it all and focus on the thing he loved most: playing. But the Heisman ceremony was part of the journey. A necessary stop, even if it felt like a detour.
A knock at the door broke his thoughts. “We’re ready to head out,” came a voice from the hallway.
Cam sighed deeply and swung his legs off the bed. The ceremony loomed ahead like a game he wasn’t quite sure how to play. Grabbing his suit jacket, he moved toward the door, forcing himself into the moment.
---
The theater buzzed with anticipation as the ceremony reached its crescendo. Cam sat in his seat, flanked by the other finalists, his hands folded tightly in his lap. He tried to keep his expression neutral, but his heart raced. The host’s voice echoed through the room, building suspense as the name of the winner drew closer.
“And the winner of the 2025 Heisman Trophy is…”
Cam didn’t flinch when Cade Klubnik’s name was announced. The Clemson quarterback rose to a roar of applause, smiling as he embraced his family and approached the stage. Later, when someone told Cam how close the final vote had been, how he had finished just behind Klubnik in one of the tightest races in recent memory, he didn’t really react. He nodded, put on a polite smile, and shrugged it off. What was there to say? It didn’t change anything, and it wasn’t where his focus lay. Cam clapped politely, standing with the other finalists to honor Klubnik. He offered a genuine “congratulations” when the ceremony’s focus shifted to handshakes and photos. Yet, he couldn’t shake the strange energy that had lingered between him and Ty Simpson throughout the evening. Both of them knew that in just over a week, they would be facing each other in the College Football Playoff. It was an unspoken tension, a mix of respect and competitive fire. Cam caught Ty glancing at him a few times, and each time, their eyes met briefly before shifting away. There was no trash talk, no overt animosity, but the weight of the impending battle hung in the air like a storm cloud. They weren’t just finalists tonight—they were rivals gearing up for the biggest game of their lives.
How long until I can leave? How long until I’m back in San Antonio, back with my team, preparing for the game that truly matters?
As the ceremony continued, Cam smiled for cameras and endured the spotlight. But in his heart, he was already gone, back in the Alamodome, the roar of his home crowd fueling his focus, his restless mind finally at peace.
Later that night, his phone buzzed incessantly with a flood of text messages and social media notifications. Most of them he ignored, brushing off the congratulatory notes and reactions to the ceremony. But one message made him pause. “Have you thought about it anymore? Time is running out!” it read. Cam’s thumb hovered over the reply button, his brow furrowed as he considered what to say. Instead, he closed the app and tucked his phone away, a sigh escaping his lips. The restlessness in his mind, which had momentarily quieted, began to stir again.
Still, as Cam lay back in bed, he couldn’t help but smile faintly. He had been named AP College Football Player of the Year, won the Davey O’Brien Award, and earned First Team All-American and First Team All-Conference honors. These were accolades he had only dreamed of as a kid, a wide-eyed boy who once envisioned nights like this. But one big difference between his childhood dreams and the reality of today gnawed at him. Reaching for his phone again, he hesitated, his finger hovering over the screen as his thoughts spiraled.
@
going OFF
