Birds are Smaller and go to the River

[Buko]

Beats' Beats: Amen - Meek Mill feat. Drake

According to stats from the NFHS, NCAA, and NFLPA only 1% of high school football players manage to play college football and that was at all 3 levels of competition. Out of the college players that play at Division 1, 2, and 3 schools only 1% of those manage to play in the NFL.

Math wasn’t Ace’s strong subject, he didn’t really have a strong subject, but he was more than capable of breaking down the math there: 1 in 1000 high school players managed to make it to the pros. He thought. Maybe.

He had managed to get a scholarship to the University of Memphis, a division 1 school with a home stadium in a big city. At eight years old he had begun playing football and was given the running back position due to his speed. He played for the Junior Titans and wore the number 28 in honor of the real Titans running back Chris Johnson. At nine he saw Chris Johnson rush for 2006 yards and claim the rushing title. It was the craziest thing he had ever seen, week in and week out seeing that man produce.

Ace knew then that he wanted to be Chris Johnson.

He wanted to be a professional football player.

Every morning he ran for an hour, when he was nine years old it was only around the block. He would circle that block countless times in that hour, eager to get faster, only stopping when breathing became impossible and his legs weak.

Even at eight, he was aware that he was coming from a broken home, his parents separated not long after his birth. At ten he was already aware that he was coming from a blue collar home, his shoes were dirtier, his uniform didn’t fit right (at first too big and then too small). He never left Chattanooga growing up, the only vacation really being at his grandfather’s lake house.

He knew he had to be better than his peers, work harder and longer--he had a dream and he had lost plenty sleep in trying to achieve it.

By the time Ace had reached high school, Chris Johnson had been cut by the Titans. The NFL stood for Not For Long after all. He never rushed for 2000 yards again and most people viewed his career as a disappointment. A failure to achieve potential. Ace didn't even really know if he was still in the league, he was with the Cardinals last he checked but not doing much.

He was still Ace’s favorite though. He always would have a special place in his heart for CJ2K.

Maybe that was why he still ran every morning for that hour? Even after already achieving that coveted scholarship.

The last leg was always the worse, but he started at 6:30AM most mornings when he didn’t have school to avoid the blistering Tennessee heat. It wasn’t so bad in March but it still could get pretty muggy and thick.

Need to get home and get me some water…

When he swung open and slammed the door to his Mom’s house with that same focus and with a shocking and unintentional amount of force, he knew that hydration would be the least of his worries.
Momma Beats' Beats: Never Too Much - Luther Vandross

Not even 8AM and she’s already got Never Too Much on...I’m gonna friggin’ get it.

“And I know this fool didn’t just slam the door in my house, did he?”

“Never Ma, that’d be ridiculous.”

“Damn right, I must’ve been hallucinating.”

“Told you to be careful ‘bout those mushrooms…”

“Ha-ha--but don’t slam my door again or I’ll whoop your ass like it’s 2005, you got me?”

“Yes ma’am.”

Coulda been worse…

“I’m just gonna head to my room then…”

“Not so fast, sit, have some food,” it wasn’t a request, “I wanted to talk to you about something. Something important and the more I put it off, the less chance I’m going to want to bring it up in the first place, so we’re doing it now--when I’m pissed at you about the door and not when I’m proud of you in a cap and gown.”

Welp, so much for coulda been worse.

Ace followed instruction and went to the dining room and sat down, his mother still at work in the kitchen before bringing out two plates of eggs, toast and bacon, sitting down and serving Ace as well.

“Can I get some water?”

“Birds are smaller and go to the river to get water Ace, I just cooked and served you breakfast and now you want me to fill your cup too?”

“No, of course not Ma,” he grumbled, “What do you wanna drink?”

“Orange juice,” she said calmly, “And I’m the Queen of Attitude so put yours in check, alright?”

His Mother and Father had separated while Ace was young but neither had ever remarried and both maintained single parent although separate households. Jaclyn Jackson had never coddled her son and she had been intent on raising a gentleman who was both tough and honorable.

That meant serving yourself and your mother sometimes.

He took a bottle of water from the fridge and then picked up a glass and the Simply Orange, he poured his mother’s glass tableside and then sat down before adding salt and pepper to his eggs and digging in.

Swallowing the breakfast and his fatigue with a big hearty sip of water that crept out the sides of his mouth and down to his chin.

“So what’s up Ma?”

“I wanted to talk to you about college.”

“Oh?”

She did, did she? His parents hadn’t been super involved in his college search or journey to school. Neither had gone to college, having had Ace right out of high school. His father had gone to technical school to become an A/C technician but college had never been a priority aside from the fact that he had to go. He half expected his mother expected him just to attend community college after school before Ace earned a scholarship based out of athletics.

His mother had always encouraged him to look in interests beyond the football field. She was the one who had nurtured and developed his love for music and she was often the first person to hear the music he created. She had always been rather intent on encouraging Ace to chase his dreams, whether they included academics or athletics or art.

“Have you thought about your major?”

Huh?

“Nah, figured it was pretty obvious,” he said taking a bite of bacon, “I’m tryin’ to go pro and if not that Imma do music, I’m doin’ Audio Engineering.”

“I thought so…”

His mother took a sip of coffee and then a sip of orange juice, then took a bite of toast, then a sip of coffee and then another of orange juice. Ace was always skeptical of when she did stuff like that--usually meant she was buying time to think.

“I think you should do Pre-Law.”

“What the fuck?”

“Language, I ain’t your father kid.”

“Sorry, but...like...where does that come from?”
Momma Beats' Beats: Don't Take It Personal - Jermaine Jackson

His mother grimaced at him but she seemed resolute and focused in a way that she normally wasn’t in serious situations. Ace knew his mother to be a tough lady but she was also undeniably self sacrificing and kind. She never put herself above Ace. He loved her more than anything and he knew she loved him. He was the man in her life and her the woman in his and there was a special bond shared between mother and son.

Ace was prepared for wise ass remarks from his Mom...but being told to be a lawyer?

“It’s an amazing opportunity son,” she said with uneasiness, “A free education. Football isn’t a guarantee, they like you now--but rupture a tendon and watch how those feelings change…”

“Adrian Peterson came back from total knee reconstruction.”

“You think you’re Adrian Peterson…?”

“I could be!”

“Ace, there’s plenty kids who end up paralyzed or never playing again, it’s a dangerous game and college ball is just going to be crazier.”

“Ma, I’ve never been hurt.”

“You’ve been lucky.”

“I’ve been good!”

“There’s a lot of good football players out there that don’t even make it to college Ace, you’re wrong if you think your talent makes you more special than them.”

Ace balked at his mother and felt a pang of anger reach to his face before disappointment came over him. What was his mother saying? His mother who had done nothing but encourage and water every dream seed he planted. She had told him he could do anything and now she was telling him to be reasonable.

Ace understood what she was saying but he didn’t like that it was coming from her. He didn’t like that at all.

“Ma, I’m a career C-Student, I ain’t gonna do law school and play D-1 ball and try to rap at the same time.”

“I just think that in five years when you’re doing A/C with your Dad or workin’ at the post office with me with a degree in ProTools you're gonna regret it. You could make something of yourself. You could really be special.”

“Man Ma, your lower middle class insecurity is showing pretty heavy right now…”

“And what do you mean by that?”

“I mean that having a kid who’s a lawyer won’t change the fact that you’re a post lady who drives a 2000 Civic.”

“Is that really what you think of me Ace?”

“If the shoe fits wear it Ma.”

“Keep in mind boy, they only treat your black ass special because you fill up their bleachers,” she said with a sneer, “When you can’t do that what you gonna be worth to someone like that Lorenzen kid? He's the big NFL prospect on your team right? He comes from oil money, he can afford to dream about being in the NFL--he’s going to be good no matter what.”

“Ma, it’s 2018, times are different, you can’t be talkin’ like that…”

“We live in Tennessee and that fuck Canon is President, don’t tell me times are different--I’m grown, you’re naive.”

She placed her fork down and then picked up her plate…

“You’re a man now, you’re free to do what you want and I cannot stop you,” she said with some definiteness, “But you’re a man and you should think like one. Music is a great hobby, I’ve always encouraged it and football has now paid for your education...you’ve done good making that pass time work for you.”

She placed her food in the microwave and then went to Ace, putting her hands on his shoulders and kissing him on the forehead.

“Don’t chase two dreams and give yourself no safety net,” she said softly, “The world is a hard place and when it humbles you...I don’t want you to be resentful. If you lose don’t lose the lesson.”

He didn’t know what to make of what his mother told him and part of him felt angry for her putting her hands on him and attempting to comfort him while also giving him “tough” love.

“Alright Ma…”

“I love you Ace.”

“Love you too…”

“You can go to your room now.”

“A'ight, thank you for breakfast.”

He quickly picked up his plate and took it to his room…

Never trust Luther Vandross--when he’s playin’ she always pops off.