Mikey
There were loud stadiums.
Then there was Minnesota.
The second we ran out of the tunnel, the noise slammed into us like a wall. It wasn’t just cheering. It was thousands of people screaming with one purpose—to make sure we couldn’t hear each other.
I looked around U.S. Bank Stadium while stretching my shoulders. The place was packed. Purple jerseys covered almost every seat, and every time one of our players stepped onto the field, the boos rolled down from the stands like thunder.
I smiled.
I had always liked playing in hostile environments.
If they hated you that much, it usually meant you were doing something right.
The introductions ended, captains met at midfield, and before long we were standing on the sideline waiting for kickoff.
Liam adjusted his chinstrap beside me
