my injury with our trainer and the students who volunteered to assist her. One of her assistants was nicer and more attentive to me than the others. By the middle of September, we were going out. What that meant in practical terms is we would hold hands in the hallway between classes, eat lunch together in the cafeteria and hang out together with the same group of friends after football games. It was the kind of innocent first romance kids seem to skip these days or start much earlier than they should.
I had a new girlfriend and plenty of friends at school, and I played varsity football. I had finally settled into life in Miami, and was happy we had moved back. But in October, our family’s fortunes took a sudden turn for the worse. I came home from school one day and knew from the look on my mother’s face that something terrible had happened. It was a look you expect to see when someone has been told they or someone they love is dying. And that’s exactly how I felt when she told me that earlier that morning Orlando had been arrested on drug charges.
I was stunned by the news. Like my parents, I had never suspected Orlando was involved in a criminal enterprise. His arrest and subsequent trial and imprisonment distressed the entire family, but Barbara and my parents bore the brunt of the hardships it caused. Even decades later, my sister and mother would be forced to relive the shame of the ordeal.
My family’s troubles didn’t diminish my enthusiasm for the upcomingfootball season. I was as eager as ever for it to begin. I didn’t get a lot of playing time my junior year except during blowout games. The team had a great season. In our last regular-season game Coach Collier put me in early in the fourth quarter. I noticed that the opponent’s tight end ran only two routes when he lined up to our left: an out pattern and the seam route our offense ran in practice. On one of the last drives of the game, I saw the opposing quarterback drop back to throw and look to his right. I made a beeline for the spot where I expected him to throw the ball to the tight end. I drove my face mask into the tight end’s chest just as he grabbed the pass, knocking him flat. I heard the crowd roar its approval. I then realized I had popped the ball into the air and our cornerback had intercepted it. My teammates mobbed me when I came off the field. Coach Collier was giddy over my performance as if it was all he needed to convince our head coach, Sam Miller, to give me a shot as a starter. We won our first play-off game the following Friday; then we lost the sectional title game the following week. It was a close game with several lead changes and a last-minute miracle play by our opponent. I didn’t play a single down, but to this day I still dream about the game.
I enrolled in summer school that year to improve my math skills and my prospects for admission to college. South Miami didn’t offer summer school, so I took an algebra class at Coral Gables High. I began serious weight training that summer, working out daily at South Miami’s gym as soon as my algebra class finished for the day. In less than two months, I added ten pounds of muscle—a noticeable transformation that would impress my coaches. It impressed the girls at Coral Gables High, too.
For the first time in my life, more than one girl showed an interest in me. I began to have doubts about staying in a committed relationship, and imagined what it would be like to spend my last year of high school dating several different girls. I felt guilty, though. My feelings alternated throughout the summer between appreciation for the great girlfriend I had and not wanting to hurt her feelings to wishing I were free to date other girls.
I began senior year with the wind at my back. I was the starting free safety on the varsity football team. I had gone from being a social recluse to being pretty popular, especially with girls. My relationship with my girlfriend didn’t survive
I had a new girlfriend and plenty of friends at school, and I played varsity football. I had finally settled into life in Miami, and was happy we had moved back. But in October, our family’s fortunes took a sudden turn for the worse. I came home from school one day and knew from the look on my mother’s face that something terrible had happened. It was a look you expect to see when someone has been told they or someone they love is dying. And that’s exactly how I felt when she told me that earlier that morning Orlando had been arrested on drug charges.
I was stunned by the news. Like my parents, I had never suspected Orlando was involved in a criminal enterprise. His arrest and subsequent trial and imprisonment distressed the entire family, but Barbara and my parents bore the brunt of the hardships it caused. Even decades later, my sister and mother would be forced to relive the shame of the ordeal.
My family’s troubles didn’t diminish my enthusiasm for the upcomingfootball season. I was as eager as ever for it to begin. I didn’t get a lot of playing time my junior year except during blowout games. The team had a great season. In our last regular-season game Coach Collier put me in early in the fourth quarter. I noticed that the opponent’s tight end ran only two routes when he lined up to our left: an out pattern and the seam route our offense ran in practice. On one of the last drives of the game, I saw the opposing quarterback drop back to throw and look to his right. I made a beeline for the spot where I expected him to throw the ball to the tight end. I drove my face mask into the tight end’s chest just as he grabbed the pass, knocking him flat. I heard the crowd roar its approval. I then realized I had popped the ball into the air and our cornerback had intercepted it. My teammates mobbed me when I came off the field. Coach Collier was giddy over my performance as if it was all he needed to convince our head coach, Sam Miller, to give me a shot as a starter. We won our first play-off game the following Friday; then we lost the sectional title game the following week. It was a close game with several lead changes and a last-minute miracle play by our opponent. I didn’t play a single down, but to this day I still dream about the game.
I enrolled in summer school that year to improve my math skills and my prospects for admission to college. South Miami didn’t offer summer school, so I took an algebra class at Coral Gables High. I began serious weight training that summer, working out daily at South Miami’s gym as soon as my algebra class finished for the day. In less than two months, I added ten pounds of muscle—a noticeable transformation that would impress my coaches. It impressed the girls at Coral Gables High, too.
For the first time in my life, more than one girl showed an interest in me. I began to have doubts about staying in a committed relationship, and imagined what it would be like to spend my last year of high school dating several different girls. I felt guilty, though. My feelings alternated throughout the summer between appreciation for the great girlfriend I had and not wanting to hurt her feelings to wishing I were free to date other girls.
I began senior year with the wind at my back. I was the starting free safety on the varsity football team. I had gone from being a social recluse to being pretty popular, especially with girls. My relationship with my girlfriend didn’t survive
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