This job surfaces my fears. I can’t smile like them. I don’t know to how talk with them. I don’t feel when they curse at me for making a “wrong call.” This is not the football I once watched and skipped work for. This is a meaningless escape from out there.
In the stands, families come and leave together. But one... Standing firmly, facing me. He does not wave, but salutes. The corners of my lips lift slightly as does my hand. I don’t know him, but he is another like me.