What do you think? Good concept? What should I call it?
"Hi coach," Ben sleepily said. He hated being dragged out of bed at 5am, but he knew he must do it for the team. But, why was he meeting with Coach McCarthy? A knot twisted his stomach.
"Good morning, Firestone," coach McCarthy paused and Ben noticed a slight sadness about him -- "I guess you know why you're here."
"No, coach" Ben whispered, "I guess it's not good news?"
"No. We have to cut you from the team. I'm sorry. You have such potential and I think you should finish college so a college coach can work with you to hone your skills."
Ben was devastated. His twisted gut proved him right.
"There's only so much a professional team is willing to work with. College coaches can work with it. We're the best players; in college you learn to become the best you can be."
"I understand, coach." Ben turned away from coach and headed back to his room to pack. He had to contain his tears; he wanted to work with the Packers.
"What if I didn't make it?" Ben said as he bit his nails. The waiting was killing him.
"Honey, don't talk silly. If you weren't good, you wouldn't be here," his mother reassured him.
"It's true, if you weren't good at football, we wouldn't be sitting here waiting. Be patient."
"Well, this happens from time to time," Ben meekly said as his confidence was beginning to wane. He had let out a sigh and breathed deeply to calm himself down. The tension in the room was thick, he could hardly breathe. His sister, Lily, his father and even his mother beyond the calm facade, were on edge and anxious for Ben. Like Ben, they were just as nervous.
"You still have a year left of college, son," his father said to break the brief silence that had filled the room.
"I know dad," Ben responded with a touch of irritability. This did not comfort Ben. He knew he had a year of school left, if he makes a team, he would be take online classes and have his degree mailed to him. He had it all planned out, he spent a year planning. It wasn't easy, either; it took several months and a lot of talking with administration to clear him from learning in person to online classes. Now, after all this work, he was unsure what would happen to him. Ben's stomach began to knot - he felt physically sick.
"Excuse me," he quickly said and runs to the nearest bathroom. He had shut the door and the toilet became his best friend for what seemed to be an eternity.
"Ben, honey, are you okay," his mother's voice muffled through the light knocks on the door.
"Yes, I'll be right out." Ben felt better; he washed his face with cold water and stepped out into the strained environment. "God, I wish they would call," Ben thought to himself.
I don't know if it was a box or a bag; the ringtone shocked Ben, but this is what he had been waiting for. He froze.
"Ben, why don't you answer," his mother whispered. Numb, Ben answered his cellphone with a simple "Hello."
"Ben Firestone?" The masculine voice barked through the phone.
"This is him."
"Congratulations," the voice sounded happy, "you have made wide receiver for the Green Bay Packers. You are twenty eighth pick."
Twenty-eighth pick, he was low on the totem pole, but he was happy he made a team. Green Bay Packers. He loved the Packers. He grew up watching Brett Favre gracefully run through end zones and launching into the goal line to make touchdowns. Brett Favre was his idol until he left abruptly for other teams. But, it was not only Brett Favre, Ben just loved the Packers.
"Please report to training camp on June Fifth." The voice broke his train of thought.
"Thank you, sir." The call ended.
"So," his mother asked with a tint of happiness and nervousness.
"Green Bay Packers."
"Honey! That's great! You made your team!"
"Congratulations, son," his father smiled.
"Congrats!" Lily also smiled.
"I report to training camp on June Fifth."