Homecoming

"... And finally, Panther Stadium, please welcome back former three time All-American Middle Linebacker, Captain of 1992 and 1993 Conference Champions, the monster in the middle, he's in the Purple Rain Hall of Fame, please, a large round of applause for Harrison Daniels."

Do I have to get my fat ass up? Oh, yup, everyone's standing up. Okay, I have to get my fat ass up. Just smile and wave Harrison, smile, and wave. Only 40,000 people cheering for you.

If you would ask all these people right now, standing up, cheering for a 50 year old legend of the glorious University of Purple Rain Panthers Football team, they would say my life's pretty great. And for a while, it was. I had a great college football career, an above average NFL career that allowed me to be set for life, a smoking hot wife, and a great kid who on every Saturday I travel to every game and watch him stand on the sideline and drink Gatorade.

And now, all I have is my son, Blake, and some money. Don't get me wrong, I love the fact that my kid is a college athlete. And his games are an excuse to get out of the house every Saturday and travel to wherever his game is. But, everything else. Well, I am currently divorced because my Gold Digger of a wife thought it was bad optics for her well-being and more importantly her, "social media brand" to have a husband who is middle-aged, out of shape, has been as her partner. Now she's, unsurprisingly, married to an asshole of a former pro baseball player but, don't mind me when I laughed when her new marriage was trending on Twitter because they were having "difficulties". Maybe, I should've warned him. Meh. But, I digress.

And I hate thinking and talking about my college days. It makes me feel like a has-been. Usually, when I go to my son's game, I'm dressed in sunglasses and a hat, watching in a booth where the fans can not come up to me and ask me a question they have been holding in for 20 years. But, since this is homecoming and the school wants me to interact with the crowd, in exchange for $15,000, I try to keep the scowl on my face concealed.

"Thank you for everything you have done for us, Mr. #34." Turn to my left and shake that old man's hand. "You are the best, Daniels. We need you out there right now." Turn to my right, shake that old man's hand. Look up at the video board, one more smile, one more wave. Obligation complete.

I walk up the stadium stairs and into the concourse. I hurry back to my booth seat where no one will bother me and I can just enjoy this Saturday afternoon, alone.

"Mr. Daniels, can I have your autograph?" A sweet voice stops me in my tracks. I look towards where the voice is coming from. And I hope she doesn't notice the stunned expression on my face. A short pale girl. Most likely a student. Only wearing a top that covers her chest, leaving her shoulders and tight stomach exposed. And jean shorts that seem just a little too short to cover her entire bum. God, if only I can turn back time, she would definitely be on my list.

"Sir, I would love your autograph. Please." She asks again, I can not deny that cute, pleading expression.

"Yeah, no problem." I walk toward her and the size difference is almost comical. I'm 6'3" and she can't be more than 5 foot, maybe even less. I scribble my initials on her game poster and her smile is like a ray of bright sunshine. Dare I say, her youthful smile made me melt a little inside.

"Awesome Mr. Daniels, my Dad will love this. He always talked about how awesome you were back when I was growing up. I'm glad to see that you lived up to my expectations."

Despite the round of applause and cheers I just had from 40,000 fans, what she just said made me feel, happy. "Ohh, no problem, sweetie. Anything for a fan. But, please call me Harrison."

"Okay, Harrison," She draws out my name in what sounds like a sultry matter, "Thank you again!" She runs off back into the stands and sure enough, her jeans shorts were just a little too short to cover her entire bum. So, please forgive me for my eyes lingering on her for a second. It's been a dry couple of years.

I walk again, I mind and appease the Hi and Hellos from the fans. It's honestly weird how people still either know about me or recognize me from way back. I guess it's true that football fans never forget their heroes, even though I don't see myself that way. I just played football because I loved the game.

I finally reached my booth. As I turn the handle, "Hey, Buddy! Long time no see!" My body freezes and my eyes go wide at the surprise. Then I finally recognize him. My friend and college teammate TJ Wilkins.

"Oh shit, Hey man. How is it going? It has really been a long time." We approach each other with smiles on our faces and do our usual handshake.

"Nothing much man. Just coming back for Homecoming. My girl attends college here. So I thought I would use that as an excuse to come see you."

I chuckle a little, "Still have your sense of humor. But, I did not know you and your wife had a kid. That's awesome." We walk to the couch that looks out to the field. And I see that his cheerful demeanor changes just slightly to one of sadness.

"Yeah, kinda. We had to adopt since we learned that Cherly had some medical problems that kept her from having children. It was a hard time for us but, she has been a godsend for us."

"Dude that's awesome. You gave that child a loving home."

"Yeah, I love her as if she were my blood. And to be honest, to me, she is my blood. But how are you doing? I heard about the divorce. Sorry about that."

"It's fine. She was a gold digger anyways. She didn't love me for me, you know. All about the money."

"Yeah. You know you don't want to hear it."

please don't.

"I told you so." "You told me so." We say in unison.

He chuckles and continues "She was a sorority sloot who only dated the rich guys. The signs were there."

"Whatever. I learned my lesson. It's been four years. I'm fine." I say trying to hint at him to end the subject.

"I'm just pulling your string, man. You need to get out there man. I know you still got that big schlong of yours. Fucking wiping that around the house in your underwear when we were roommates. Like pick any women or widow here, shit pick one of the coed girls and they will be on their knees, oh Mr. Hall of Famer, make me yours." He says trying to mimic a woman at the end with his ultra deep voice.

I punched him in the arm for the jest. But as I ponder what he says, "even a college girl," my mind goes directly to that girl in the concourse asking for my autograph. Maybe too young for me. It's just a thought though. A harmless thought.

Seconds later, he kicks me out of my trance, "Hey, isn't that your son? Dude that's your kid! He's in the game!"

I get up off my seat as I watch my boy run onto the field. The video board has my reaction on the screen for all to see. But I don't care. My boy is on the field. I'm exhilarated. Like a proud father, I scream his name and yell "let's go! Tear them a new one kid!" I don't even know if he's going to get a carry. But I don't care. My boy is playing in his first college D1 game.

And he actually got the ball. He only gained 1 yard but fuck it, my kid got a yard in his first carry.

"Dude that's awesome. You must be proud of him."

"I am. I am." He plays for a couple more downs. They use him as a short yard running back since he's relatively quick on his feet for how big he is. Maybe he should've played defense like me but, he stubbornly only wants to play offense. But that makes him happy so I can care less.

"Are you going to the Homecoming dinner tonight?"

"Yeah. The school is paying me to attend so more alumni come. I told them no speeches though."

"Dude, they pay you to do everything huh? All Americans, man."

"Don't forget school hall of famer." I say with a cheeky smile.

"Don't push it." We laugh and continue to watch the rest of the game.

We walk out of the stadium and continue to reminisce about our college years and what we've been through since we last saw each other. His life has been sort of calm. He became a police chief, loves to throw axes on Fridays, and just spends time with his wife and kids.

Whereas I, it's in flux. I don't really have anyone around me I can call close friends. Everyone I interact with is more or less a business partner. And since my divorce and my kid going off to college, I am admittedly, lonely.

"I have to go find my daughter. Let's sit at the same table at dinner. The Purple Rain U propaganda is going to be insufferable."

"Yeah, I would love that." We hug it out and he goes on his way.

I head to the family gathering place where all the players meet their parents after the game. It feels like all the parents are staring at me. Taking my picture or pointing at me. Either it's "omg that's him or that's the famous divorce guy." Either way, it's annoying.

Blake is one of the last out and his friends on the team are serenading him with praise for playing his first game. He's blushing and embarrassed but I don't think he knows how proud I am of him.

"Hey, Dad. Sorry I didn't get more yards out there. I read the defense wrong."

I put my arm around his shoulder as we walk off. "Don't worry about it. You looked like you enjoyed yourself out there. It's only your first game. You'll get used to the pace of the game."

"I know. I know." He pauses for a second. Almost hesitating to ask. "I know I told you I'll go to the alumni dinner tonight, but I was wondering if I could go to one of the parties tonight with the guys?"

I huff out loud, "of course bud. I would've done the same. This dinner is just going to be a circle jerk for the school. Go have fun with your friends."

"Awesome! Thanks, dad." We do the secret handshake we have with each other but then he says, "and remember dad, if you meet someone, don't be afraid to ask them out."

"Come on man. I don't need dating advice from my own son."

"You know it's been a long time. Go out there. All the cheerleaders talked about how hot you were throughout the week."

"This old fart? Nah. Let's get in the car." We drive off and throughout the car ride, we talk about the game and how to read the defense. Also about what he's been up to with school, friends, whatever college people do these days. Something called toctok? I don't know.

I head back to my hotel, get in my room, and take a fat ass nap. But not deep enough to forget my dream. A dream of me, giving that same autograph and looking up to see that smile. Her small, youthful body, gorgeous blonde hair, and those stunning hazelnut eyes. But this time, I inch towards her, hands caressing her body, her smooth skin sending electricity through me, just need to get that little top off her, and...

*ring, ring, ring*

My stupid alarm goes off. It's already 7:00, just in time to get ready for dinner. Thanks to Blake wanting to hang with his friends, I allowed myself an extra 30 minute nap. Maybe I should've used that time to get rid of this boner. The stupid thing is, I will most likely never see that girl again. I mean I'm only here for 1 more day. There are only 2 more home games left in the season. The odds are slim to none of seeing her among these 30000 students. And why would she want some middle 50 year old like me when she can have some jacked college guy. It's...it's not worth my time. Not worth pondering on her. The last time I overthought someone like this, I ended up divorcing her ass.

I take a shower, put on my suit, and just sit on my bed for a bit. The train of thought has me kicking myself. I've spent years after my divorce trying not to get involved with anyone. My focus stayed on my son and whatever obligations I had to fulfill. So why is it, just a one off encounter has my mind reeling? This is stupid.

I finally head off to the homecoming slash alumni Dinner. The stupid school oversold the tickets, so instead of it being at the normal grand hall at the student center, this year, it's at the basketball stadium. And they decorated the court area as some type of Purple Rain U memorial or museum. Countless T.V screens surrounding the seats playing every famous play in the school's history. I find my conference championship game winning tackle on one of the middle screens on the left side. I catch one of the old, old guys saying to his wife, "I remember that play, it brought such joy to my heart."

I chuckle at myself, I always found it odd how people can be inspired by such things. I was just doing my job.

I find TJ at the section which I believe is to show off all the school's championships. They hung up almost every banner for this event. They even put up the banners for golf and fly fishing.

"They seem a little desperate this year," TJ says, whispering so one of the many alumni with influence doesn't hear.

"Must be working. Look, that guy is already writing a check."

"Jesus, they may break the record. I bet they all heard this guy was coming to town so they moved us in the basketball arena." He slaps my shoulder knowing the real reason is that all these people needed an excuse for going out after being locked in for a year. This dinner was just an excuse to do so.

"Well, hello there gentleman." A sultry voice says behind us. We both turn around. It's Laura Madison, the richest woman, no, the richest person this school has ever produced. She covered a magazine that labeled her a "fine piece of wine," and she was. Tall, slender, and fit for her age. In her late 40s and she still looks as good as she was in college. The dark red runway dress makes her stand out from the rest.

"Hello, Ms. Madison." We say in unison. She's famously known for liking to be called "Ms. Madison." Well "liked" isn't the best word for it, more like "commands". She says and I quote, "it reminds people that I'm on top, and they are inferior." She sounds like a bitch, but not really, it's just her thing. But screw her over and she has enough money, power, and influence to ruin your life.

"I'm glad to see our two biggest moneymakers are here. The alumni will especially be opening up their pocketbooks when they see you two." She says in a rather convincing way.

We just smile and nod in approval. Both of us are rather scared to say anything wrong to her.

And then her eyes lock onto me. "Especially you, Harrison Daniels. I look forward to speaking with you further." She says as she walks past my shoulder and I hear her whisper to me, "you can call me Laura."

"Dude, did I see what I think I just saw." TJ comes up to me as I stand frozen in place.

"Yeah, I think so."

"You know she's single right? I heard she curbed her last guy. Dude this is it. Go get her, she wants you."

"Maybe, man. I'm hungry though. Let's just, go eat." To be honest. I'm not really interested. I mean maybe another time. When I feel ready for that. When that is, I don't know. I just know not now.

So we eat, TJ and I talk to whoever was assigned to our table and as expected, most of the talk is about football. We try to survive the highlight packages with god awful music choices. All of the speeches from select alumni always end with a reminder to "leave a big check so our teams can keep excelling."

"Hey, where is your wife? Doesn't she live for these types of gatherings?"

"God, don't tell me. But, she's at her sorority alumni dinner probably doing some freaky shit with the rushes." Ohh that's interesting. "Speaking of the devil, she just texted me that she's back from her shindig and wants me at the hotel. I'll see you tomorrow. Don't let this thing bore you to death."

"Yeah man, I won't. Have fun."

And he was right, this place was about to bore me to death. The drivel from these somewhat pretentious donors has me checking my phone constantly.

And just as I was checking again, "Hello, sir. may I get you another drink?" I move my drink to where the sound is coming from. My head was still buried on my phone. Then I turn my head. And I see that same sunshine smile from earlier.

I try not to stumble on my words, "yeah, yes another IPA please." My eyes take her in. She looks incredible in her white dress shirt and black tie. And she's wearing glasses that scream sexy secretary, with her hair in a ponytail. Her name tag says "Mia" and just under it says "sophomore".

Her smile lingers on me just until she asks the rest of the table, "would anyone else like a drink." The rest of the table gives their orders. And after the most sublime display of customer service, she waltzes off leaving everyone, including myself, impressed.

"Wow, the students here are top notch. What a wonderful young lady."

"Yeah, I wouldn't mind having lunch with her and giving her a letter of recommendation. She will most certainly take the world by storm."

And all my dumbass could contribute was, "yeah, no doubt." As I watch her walk off, eyes on her perky butt swaying in the most intoxicating matter possible in tight suit pants.

"Why don't you gaze your eyes on something better, stud." It's Ms. Madison. Her voice is recognizable even to people who are deaf.

I turned to her, "I was watching one of the highlights on the screen. I'm not looking for anything."

"Are you sure about that?" She sits where TJ was sitting at the table. And she leans forward showing her big bust. "Why don't you leave with me and we can discuss other things at my room." I haven't seen those types of eyes in a while but I swear she has some pair of "fuck me" eyes on me.

"That's flattering, Ms. Madison but I'm pretty tired. I still have to do the autograph signing tonight and I think I will be beat after that."

"Too bad. I would've rocked your world. Make you forget about the wench of an ex-wife. But, I will promise you this," she grabs my thigh squeezing hard, "I will get a part of you one way or another." She goes in for a quick kiss on my lips, leaving the rest of the table in shock, and she gets up and leaves. And just like the past four years, I felt absolutely nothing.

One of the alumni looks like they were alive during WW2 leans over and whispers, "back in my day she would've already been pregnant on this table. What are you doing?"

I just laugh it off and go back to the festivities. The rest of the conversation was more lively after that. It wasn't "bored to death" level but much more "I hope this only last five more minutes" type of conversation. And then the autograph signing. The main event. Not really it was just the last event. But it was 8 former athletes sitting at tables signing whatever these people wanted. Of course, my line was the longest. Everyone loves the football star and to my detriment because my wrist started to hurt. I went from signing my full name to just giving these people my initials. So, I may need to apologize to these people who wanted to sell it on eBay because there may be some authenticity arguments.

And finally, after an hour, I get to my last person. Head down, saying for the last time "name" and I get the reply of, "to Mia." My heart thumps and my head lurches up.

"You want another one?" But, I give her my full signature, almost as a pseudo confirmation that, that signature is the authentic one, and hand it back to her. "I've been seeing you a lot today."

"I know, a coincidence, huh." And her smile tells me it's not one.

"Are you off the clock? Won't the school be mad at you for using their money to get a second autograph?" I try my best at teasing. I haven't done it in a while.

"I still have 10 minutes left. I just need to clean up. Will you wait for me when I'm done?" Her smile changed to a sly one.

I hope she's not playing around. I need to stay grounded. Can't be played. But I can't resist, "I'll be around."

"Great." As she quickly turns around like a teenager who just got what she wanted and saunters off. God that ass is nice.