“I am an NFL player.” The reality worked its way through my exhausted mind. “I am being paid to play a kid’s game.” A smiled formed on my unshaven face. Sure, there was no job security. Sure I had to drag myself out of bed at 6:00AM every morning to bang my head against 350-pound behemoths. None of that mattered, though. Nearing the end of my 8-hour drive from Boston to ***** the stadium suddenly appeared over the horizon. The vast $150 Million facility sparkled under the spring sky.
I’ve always loved competition. Whether it is in the classroom or on the field, putting myself up against the best always excited me. When my high school football coaches told me I wasn’t tough enough to be a premier player, I turned myself into an All-State selection and a four-year letter-winner at a Division 1 college. When high school friends played other sports and challenged me to compete, I obliged and joined the track and field and wrestling teams, both of which earned me All-County accolades. At the age of 18 I was on the field playing as a true freshman in front of 108,000 screaming fans.
It was never just about sports for me. Sports served as a great release for me; an escape from the stresses of young adulthood. I never allowed myself to be defined by the sport I was playing though. At times high school teachers questioned my ability to succeed at a prestigious university. How could someone so involved in athletics possibly excel in school? Their questions were answered when my name appeared in the “***** ” under the Dean’s List Selections. It wasn’t so much that I cared what people thought, but when I am challenged, I always respond with meaningful action.
Juggling athletics and academics in college wasn’t always easy. Late nights and early mornings were a regular occurrence. There were growing pains my first semester. Leaving for college two weeks after my high school graduation without being able to come home due to football obligations compounded my first semester struggles in the classroom and on the field. That winter I had a self-realization; you are in college to get a degree and excel academically, everything else is extra. 6AM daily workouts and 3PM practices didn’t leave much homework but I knew it had to get done. From that point on I set myself on a positive trajectory in the classroom and soon enough, my athletic career came roaring to life.
Temptation to slip up was everywhere. Friends would encourage me to attend ‘Sunday Funday’ at the local bar, but I’d be busy with phi alpha delta meetings or Muslim Student Association events. They’d encourage me to skip classes to play video games, but I’d refuse I always knew there was more to life than sports and my actions reflected that. Carrying these tools with me through college allowed me to become an multiple All Big-East Academic selection as well as an All Big-East Athlete (Phil Steele 2012).
Having an Algerian-born research scientist as a father and a 36-year veteran of public school teaching as a mother has shaped me into a man who is well-equipped for intellectual challenges. A man who has picked up some French and Arabic in order to communicate with relatives, all of whom live overseas. A man who would rush home from college during short breaks between football training to get on a plane to see his family in Africa. Having a degree in Comparative Government, I always looked at my travels through a different lens than most. In my family’s hometown of ****** Algeria, conditions are very poor. Some children walk barefoot through the streets begging for money. Instead of handing out change, I view the situation more analytically. “How can a country so rich in natural resources and potential for tourism struggle to provide the most basic services for citizens?” And more generally, “Why do Middle Eastern countries remain so stubborn and resistant to change? How can these ‘democratic’ nations elect a leader who can join the global economic and diplomatic communities to remedy some of these problems?” Through visiting Algerian universities and talking with friends and family, I’ve been able to gain a pulse of the region. American diplomatic relationships have been able to grow many nations’ economies. Applying international treaties to begin trade relations can work wonders for undeveloped countries. Idealistic as I may be, I believe that with a law degree I will be able to bring about change in a region starving for it.
Hating to lose has nothing to do with the amount one loses. I have failed in multiple endeavors in my life. Not one of those ended with a smile, but I could always be content in my mind if I gave it my all. If I decide to pursue something, I did so with relentless effort and focus. I have never entered into an obligation half-heartedly.
Walking through NFL locker rooms, conversations were aplenty, “So will this supplement help my biceps peak?” “How much will it cost to put 22 inch rims on my Range Rover?” I always regarded the veteran players with respect. They’ve reached their athletic pinnacle. They’re young, rich and play a game for millions of dollars. There was always something missing though. How fulfilling could it be to bang your head against another grown man for four hours at a time daily? Sure it can furnish your new mansion, but can it spark an intellectual conversation? Can it help jumpstart the Middle-East peace process? Does it do anything for our society or our childrens’ future? The answers were always no, no and no. Football had a lot to offer, but left even more to be desired.
Unfortunately, our franchise was going through downsizing. Unlike a Fortune 500 company that might lay off 1% of its workforce at a time, the ********* were getting ready to cut almost 40 out of 90 players. There were multiple rounds of cuts in ******. Already, the roster had been trimmed from 90 to 75 players. The final players being released would find out their fate in the morning. Glancing around my hotel room I realized this might be the end of my career. The bed next to mine was empty; a round one victim of roster cuts. “This is it,” I thought to myself. In 12 hours time, I was either going to be a 22-year old kid making half a million dollars or an unemployed ex-football player. A zero-sum game.
The double sessions, the wind-sprints, the up-downs done on a snow covered field in January. The 600 pound squats. The flights to visit colleges. They were all for naught, it felt. With the ink still dry on my termination letter, I made a conscious- decision to focus all of my energy on my life-long dream of law school. Ever since I was 10 years old I was known as an intense arguer. “He always has to have the last word,” my parents remarked. I’ve never been interested in second place. As I imagined the intense competition in law school a smile crept along my face: my type of environment.
