An ugly orphan chases his impossible dream of gridiron glory. "That boy's so ugly, when his mama breastfed him, she closed her eyes and thought about other babies." I heard that from a teenager at McDonald's. It was the first time I realized that I was ugly. That teenager was prophetic, as, shortly thereafter, my mother dropped me off at an orphanage, never to be heard from again. It wasn't all bad though. Mr. H. ran the group home. He was tough but fair. Most of the other boys left within the first year, adopted or placed in foster care. I was special though, a lifer. I was the only one who stayed until my eighteenth birthday. If I was too ugly for my mother, I was definitely too ugly for some bougie adoptive family. I might've been ugly, but I could run like the wind, and I could hit like a Mack truck. I learned to box from Mr. Vasquez, and Mr. H. taught me to play football. With a face like mine, you toughened up. But high school football didn't turn out like I had hoped. I had no scholarship offers and no prospects. So I walked on to a power-five university football team. I was a longshot, but I made the team. I even met a girl with my ugly mug. Tania was a singer too-sang like an angel from heaven. I knew back then that she was gonna be a star. Everything was going according to plan, until that fraternity party. My life was never the same after that. Neither was Tania's. I thought I was doing the right thing, but I was the only one who got punished. I never thought they'd F me over like they did. From their perspective, it was an easy choice. It worked out great for them. They won the National Championship. I didn't win anything. In fact, I lost nearly everything. Mr. H. told me that life's a marathon. I just need to keep moving forward. I don't know about that. I've seen a marathon on ESPN, and everyone's cheering the runners and handing out free water. I must be running a special marathon where people heckle me, steal my water, and knock me down. So many times, I wanted to stay down and give up, be the ugly loser that everyone thought I was. But, no matter how bad it got, something deep inside of me kept telling me to get up. Adult language and sexual content.
An ugly orphan chases his impossible dream of gridiron glory. "That boy's so ugly, when his mama breastfed him, she closed her eyes and thought about other babies." I heard that from a teenager at McDonald's. It was the first time I realized that I was ugly. That teenager was prophetic, as, shortly thereafter, my mother dropped me off at an orphanage, never to be heard from again. It wasn't all bad though. Mr. H. ran the group home. He was tough but fair. Most of the other boys left within the first year, adopted or placed in foster care. I was special though, a lifer. I was the only one who stayed until my eighteenth birthday. If I was too ugly for my mother, I was definitely too ugly for some bougie adoptive family. I might've been ugly, but I could run like the wind, and I could hit like a Mack truck. I learned to box from Mr. Vasquez, and Mr. H. taught me to play football. With a face like mine, you toughened up. But high school football didn't turn out like I had hoped. I had no scholarship offers and no prospects. So I walked on to a power-five university football team. I was a longshot, but I made the team. I even met a girl with my ugly mug. Tania was a singer too-sang like an angel from heaven. I knew back then that she was gonna be a star. Everything was going according to plan, until that fraternity party. My life was never the same after that. Neither was Tania's. I thought I was doing the right thing, but I was the only one who got punished. I never thought they'd F me over like they did. From their perspective, it was an easy choice. It worked out great for them. They won the National Championship. I didn't win anything. In fact, I lost nearly everything. Mr. H. told me that life's a marathon. I just need to keep moving forward. I don't know about that. I've seen a marathon on ESPN, and everyone's cheering the runners and handing out free water. I must be running a special marathon where people heckle me, steal my water, and knock me down. So many times, I wanted to stay down and give up, be the ugly loser that everyone thought I was. But, no matter how bad it got, something deep inside of me kept telling me to get up. Adult language and sexual content.
