Brett was the biggest jerk on my JV soccer team. He was short, stocky, and slow. Yet he also had a beautiful shot off either foot, and he was our star striker. He was the one Coach called upon to take all of our free kicks and PKs. He had more goals than anyone on the team.
I played defense, along with my friend Luke. Luke and I rarely got the chance to shoot the ball and almost never felt the glory of scoring a goal. While scrimmaging in practice, we got to spend plenty of time with Brett, since he would just loiter near the goal, never running back to help his side on defense. When the coach wasn’t looking, Brett would try to trip us or kick us in the shins, and sometimes he even jumped on my back and tried to wrestle me to the ground. During games, if the coach asked him to do something he didn’t like, he would curse and mutter insults not quite under his breath. This once led the captain of the opposing team to ask incredulously, “How can you talk to your own coach that way?”
During water breaks, Brett's favorite pastime seemed to be making fun of Luke and myself in front of the whole team. With me, Brett usually mocked my appearance, since I was very nerdy and not yet good at hiding it. There was a silly rumor going around the school that Luke had a testicle removed due to a medical condition, and Brett mercilessly and repeatedly mocked Luke by calling him “One-Ball” and telling him he would never have kids. Most of the team laughed along with Brett.
In the offseason, some of my teammates and I played on an indoor soccer team, which my dad helped coach. In the confined space of an indoor arena, Brett seemed to get even more personal with his insults. He owned the official Adidas soccer ball that my team used. He would tell me, “This ball cost $80. Since you get all your clothes at K-Mart, it’s worth more than your entire wardrobe!" Yet around my dad, he seemed more friendly to me, and I never heard him swear at my dad. On several occasions, he even said to me, “Your dad is so cool!” Back then, I interpreted those comments to be further mockery, which I did my best to ignore. Now, I’m not so sure.
My dad was a frequent spectator at my JV team’s games. He couldn’t make it to the afternoon games, but he invariably came to all of our evening and weekend games. Brett’s parents, on the other hand, were never there. From what I heard, his father was out of the picture, and his mother had to work 2 jobs to support him and his older brother, who was kicked out of high school for drug use. Brett’s brother did sometimes show up to our games, watching quietly from the sideline and usually leaving before the game was over.
There were some occasions when Brett seemed to show a softer side. During lulls in practice, I remember seeing him sometimes looking wistfully up at the sky. Out of the blue, he said to me once, “You see those birds over there? I wish I could be a bird and just be free and fly away.” At the time, I did not give a crap what he may have been trying to fly away from. But now I wonder.
I thought about Brett this week when Facebook suggested I add him as a friend under “People You May Know.” I did not. But he looked happy in his profile picture, and out of curiosity, I googled his name and found that he has moved far from our hometown, and he works as an operations manager for a fancy restaurant chain. I do not know if he has any kids, but if he does, I hope that he is able to go to all of their soccer games.
