The sun gazed over me harshly. My body prickled to its stare, for it peeled off delicate strips of my skin’s softness leaving bruises that will scour my sleep tonight. It may be the evening sun, but it was still too hot.

“Alright guys, I am proud to say you guys are really something. Our second match for the JF Championship should be a banger. So train hard and do your best,” Hill said and gave Malt a nod which he returned. Hill’s last match was my debut. That sucked I guessed, he would be leaving the island on Friday, and on Saturday the team would have to ship off to Portmore to face the Meadowbrook Doctor Birds.

My sneakers lifted off the patchwork grassy field that we trained on.

“…against one of the best teams in the country? Brah that is asking a lot of us,” One player replied.

“Hey, we were invited to the competition, which was a shock in of itself, and we did beat Tivoli Gardens Phoenix,” Malt reminded us.

“A non-league team, now we are going up against a league team,” The player replied.

There wasn't any confidence in this team. Well, I was no different.

“Have a little more faith, we got Prix, and Jake, at least until December…” Malt said that and yet I detected sadness in what he was saying. I rocked my head and spoke about the one thing that was bothering me.

“Why we have to practice in the sun? We can’t practice at night?” I got many turn of gazes from the other team members.

Malt bounced the ball upward as Hill walked away laughing. He threw the ball up at me, I drifted back and nearly grasped it, it slipped right off my fingers and fell to the ground with a thump.

“No lights are on the field, we would be practicing in the darkness, so no,” Malt said.

“If we could play in the night, we could practice longer,” I said to myself.

“Yeah, but it will be hard on some man, who have to wake up again for work. At least it depends on how early them have to get up,” Malt said.

Ember kissed his teeth. “It would be better honestly. You think two hours of training can make Prix any better than he was at the last match? Actually, you don’t work right?” he pointed at me as he asked me the last question.

Why did people keep reminding me of pointless things constantly? I had not even gotten breakfast today, since both the women left the house like thieves in the night. I just ate two slices of bread. Two thousand dollars per match was hard to survive on, I needed a real job.

Well, due to that I slept off the ache and pains of this sport. This sport had given me many aches. I was about to retort that I got two touchdowns while dear old Ember got one, like he thought I was undeserving of my accomplishments.

Malt got closer to me causing me to retreat from the blank gaze I got from him just before he looked down at the football. “As a running back you will get a lot of hits, you have to be able to hold onto the ball properly. You going to practice ball handling today. Take up the football.”

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I groaned inwardly and grabbed up the football. Malt called to the others, “Our line can go practice, we need to be sturdy going into the match.” So it was me, Malt, and Jake.

Back to me, he smiled saying, “Show me how you hold the football.”

"Better than you guys." My eyelids narrowed at him, but I slid the football end under my arm and squeezed down on it with my arm bent in to grab the outer end. I motioned to him with my free arm and Malt tilted his head. Hill, who was sitting on the grass, laughed hard.

Malt came closer and hit the ball from below. It ripped from my fingers and spun up. It fell close to Ember’s feet.

“You not protecting the ball at all, that is not how I showed it to you last time,” Malt said with a low sneer.

This was annoying. How was anyone going to knock the ball from under my shoulder at the speed I carried at? This seemed like too much work over nothing really, but we went through that lesson plan again with him constantly reminding me to always grasp the seam on the center of the ball when I caught it.

We threw the ball between the four of us. I always kept dropping it. “Jake tutor your student nuh?” Hill asked.

“G, a nuh everybody can learn still,” Ember retorted.

I frowned at this exchange. Why was I catching it anyway? I should have been running. Hatred raged within me at bosses who tried to slap on more duties onto me without permission. My sister and I could relate to that.

I threw the ball hard in frustration. Ember swung his arm wide and stopped it with a finger touch, the ball rounded into his palm like nothing. He laughed and threw it to Malt who caught it. Malt swung it straight at me. Unexpectedly, I stiffened and it bounced hard against my chest. It rolled over my shoulder and behind me.

“The hell was that, all now you don’t catch no ball Prix,” Malt said.

I mumbled why in God’s name I had to catch anyway.

"Oy I can’t hear you!” Malt exclaimed.

“You have Jake, why do I have to catch anyway?” I inquired.

“Onnu run different positions, so don’t bother with the comparisons. You know all the runs you make you have to take the ball directly from my hand. Since you so damn scared of being hit, here is an idea, learn fi’ catch. At least short catches I can throw the ball to you in a wide position and it would be easier for you to run the rest of the field rampant.”

“Youth." I cursed under my breath. There was some noise on the field, but I ignored it.

Ember laughed, catching the ball I threw at him. Grabbing seam and all those things as he swiftly hopped up catching it one-handed. Ember twirled as he jogged to a stop.

I could do a better job than him anyway.

“My brother, we'll miss you, sad to see you go,” Hill said.

“Yeah man, I have to move up to the next level,” Ember replied. Malt looked around uncomfortably. When the ball came at Malt he barely caught it. Malt rolled his eyes and motioned at me with a smile. This little bastard was going to throw another fast one, I knew it.

“Go suck your mother!”

I fidgeted, Malt looked around as did Ember and the others. I saw five guys standing on the edge of the field throwing taunts at our team members. I just stared. Not sure what to do, all I knew was Leon and Modric were sending back the venom with as much viciousness.

Malt handed the ball to Ember without looking at him smooth like lotion against cracked skin and moved in front of us. Hill got up and patted Malt on the back, he said something. Malt moved off into a jog. The ball hits me in the right chest, and I recoiled from the hit.

“What did Malt say about keeping your eye on the ball? Come on Prix, we running some routes now. Get into position man,” Ember said.

Again, why was I catching?

Mini-Glossary

G - A shortened form of 'General', this word is used as a greeting between men.