The Beginning of the Climb (Part 3)

It’s August 2013, I’m cruising down the interstate with my speakers bumping Rick Ross’ new album “God Forgives, I Don’t.” I can still feel the adrenaline rush I had the entire ride to Brevard County. Me and Adam were reminiscing on the Minnesota days and how we were now in an opportunity to take full control over our destiny. All the B.S. and turmoil we faced in Minnesota was just preparation for this new endeavor. It seemed as if the time of arrival on the GPS was nearing closer and closer. Ten minutes, nine, eight, seven, six, five, four, three, two, one-we have arrived!

We got to the team “hotel” and looked around in a state of confusion. This place just didn’t have the feel I was expecting to get. Now-now-now, before you cast judgment and say, “How did you not look at where you were supposed to live ahead of time?” let me explain. I was under the impression this team hotel was going to be something completely different than what it was. Also, you must understand my willingness to do any and everything to make football work.

So, you know what? This is no biggie, I mean beggars can’t be choosers. At least we had complimentary breakfast: bagels, cereal, and muffins on a day to day basis. The entire team stayed there and a lot of us had our own troubled history, but we just wanted to play ball and go to the next level. So, never mind anything else besides the mission we came here for. The first couple practices weren’t bad we were working on becoming a cohesive unit to dominate. One thing that was undeniable was the facts we were so talented. It was just about putting the pieces together.

Anyone who knows football well knows that Florida, Texas, and California produce the best football players. So, being the first “JUCO” in the state of Florida, we knew we had to come correct. Fast forward a little to the first week of school and we are reppin’ our BCC football jerseys hard. The first game was coming up and everyone was just excited to play and let out all their frustrations on our opponent. We were proud to be the pilot team of Brevard Community College and make school history, or so we thought. The next day the school administration sent out a mass email saying that we were not in any way affiliated with the school and that we were an independent team. We were also warned not to wear any gear or face disciplinary action.

What in the world did I just get myself into?

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