This book is about more than just football. It’s about family. And it’s about the way people see other people. I grew up in a neighborhood much like West End. It wasn’t always that way, but somewhere, during the years, shots rang closer, gangs took over, and people who called that place home for years started to move away. Others stayed. And the horrible things that eventually happened on those streets—it wasn’t their fault.
Drugs. The allure of a quick buck. Gangs, and a world that let kids grow up without parents and where money was thin but bills kept climbing, fostering desperation. Those were the circumstances. The people, though—they were good.
One of my first breaking news assignments for the first newspaper I worked for was a fatal shooting that took place in a carwash stall just a block away from my childhood home. When I walked the streets and talked to nearby residents, many of them were familiar. They’d been in their homes for forty years. Latino, white, black, or as Nico would say…green—that was never part of the conversation. My quotes were about the violence and the gangs, not about condemning groups of people based on their ethnicities or laying blame at their feet. But that conversation…it does happen. We hear it a lot. Subtle racism plays out couched under faulty reasoning and apologies, as if it makes it okay.
It doesn’t.
It’s not.
Ugly doesn’t have a color. It lives among selfishness and hate. And as much as this story is about football…it’s also about that.
But the football…the football is good, no?
Off my soapbox…I have to thank a lot of people for this story. Firstly, my parents and brother for giving me the greatest childhood a tomboy like me could ask for. I loved my home, and I love the people and families I grew up with.
To my beta readers—Ashley, Jen, Shelley and Bianca. Lost without you ladies. LOST!
To my hubs and son, my reason for anything and the ultimate support in all I do. My hubs also happens to be one hell of a beta reader.
Tina Scott and BilliJoy Carson—you make my words shine. You are my lifelines, and I write with confidence knowing I have you to catch me when I fall.
To dad, for making sure his little girl knew what a hard count was—and for loving that she also knows it’s what makes Aaron Rogers special. (Note: I’m aware that there are a lot of things that make Aaron Rogers special.)
Angel Reyes—thank you so very much for becoming my Nico for the cover. You are a special human being, and I’m so glad that I’ve gotten to know you. You’re going to do great things.
And Frank Rodriguez of DLRfoto…your photos leave me speechless. I will never stop dreaming up ideas just so I can talk you into shooting them for me. You’re a gift, and a forever kind of friend.
I must also thank my amazing readers, bloggers and reviewers who without I know I would still be writing books that no one would see. You are the spotlight, and I’m forever grateful for the time and attention you give to me. I’m humbled by it. And Ninjas? You guys are the best. I meant what I said—better than the Fox Force Five.
I hope you enjoyed this story. If you did, I would deeply appreciate your review. It’s often the only way indies like me are seen. And I welcome your email, too. You wouldn’t believe the smile it will put on my face.
Whose house is this?
Our house.
Hoorah!