Mikey
It’s travel day for the team, and I have this weird sense of déjà vu. Last time I played, it was an away game, and I was doing the exact same thing I’m doing right now: parking my car at the stadium to catch a bus.
The only difference this time is that we’re flying instead of driving. So when I boarded the bus, it was taking the team to the airport.
As I walked to the bus, I heard my name being called. I turned to see Corey, our kicker, jogging up to me.
“Hey man, it’s good to see your mug this morning,” he said.
“I hate to admit this, but I missed seeing all these asses the last few weeks,” I replied.
“You okay? I know it was a road game where you got hurt. No PTSD?” he asked.
I shook my head. “Nah, I don’t have that. I’m good,” I assured him.
“I’m serious, Mike. A few seas
