For a moment, everything was quiet. The crowd cheering, the music playing, my teammates shouting - all of it was drowned out. It was just me and the ball. I knew the second it left Brian's hand, the game was ours, as if the ball and I were connected. I caught it and ran with only one thought on my mind, the endzone. I don't know if anyone was near me, but it didn't matter. I was in. The game was over. We won. And suddenly all my senses returned to me, and the blaring screams from the crowd nearly made me deaf. I thought at that moment I'd never stop smiling.
"Great catch out there, man."
"We need more plays like that."
"Close game, but all that matters is that W."
My teammates showered me with praises back in the locker room. It was our first game of the season, and coming off with a win was a nice start.
"I don't know, that was still too close. It shouldn't have been that narrow of a win," Brian, our quarterback, said.
Had Brian not been so talented with sports, he could have easily made a living off of modeling. 6'4 and a perfect muscular build, he made all the women on campus swoon. Even fully dressed, his chiseled Clark Kent chin and dirty blonde hair had a magic of it's own.
"C'mon, Brian, a win is a win," another teammate chimed in.
"Something just didn't seem right. You all wore your lucky socks, right?"
Everyone nodded in agreement. I furrowed my brows, confused. I had no idea what Brian was talking about. What the hell were our lucky socks. It was my first year on the team and no one had told me anything about it. Brian obviously could tell I was confused because he walked over to me, singled me out.
"How about you, Daniel. Did you wear your lucky socks?"
"Um, well, I didn't know we had lucky socks."
Brian smiled and chuckled.
"You hear that, boys. Daniel here didn't know we had a lucky sock tradition!"
Everyone starts to laugh.
Brian turned back to me and put his hand on my shoulder. His hand was huge, and just it's placement on my shoulder was so forceful.
"You could have cost us the game."
"But I scored the winning touchdown."
"Doesn't matter. Going against tradition needs to be punished."
"But I didn't know!"
Everyone around me grins, as if they know what is about to happen. Brian turns to face them all.
"Alright! You know the drill!"
Two of my teammates, Lucas and Chris, push through the crowd of other players with their hands behind their backs. Their grins frightened me. My heart started to beat out of control. I had no idea going against tradition was so serious. Once the two men were close to me, they revealed what was behind their backs. They each held a fresh roll of gray duct tape. They smiled and pulled the tape, causing an ear shattered riiiiip as the tape was unwound from the two rolls.
Lucas started taping my legs together, while Chris worked on my taping my hands behind my back. They set me down on the floor as they continued their work, all the while Brian stood there with his huge, muscular arms crossed, grinning.
"What the fuck is going on?!"
"Quiet!" Brian shouted.
Lucas and Chris taped me until I could barely move, all I could do was squirm around on the dirty locker room floor. When they were satisfied with my restraints, they stepped away. By this point, the entire team was in a circle around me smiling. Brian stepped forward and kneeled down beside me.
"And now it's time for you to learn the importance of our lucky sock tradition."
"Look, Brian, I'm sorry. I didn't know, I swear!"
"Hey, I like you. You're a good player. But all of us needed to learn at one point or another."
He stood back up and walked over to one of the benches by the lockers. He sat down, and started to unlace one of his cleats. My eyes watched in horror as I saw him peel it off his foot. Almost instantly a smell filled the room, causing my teammates to hold their noses and chuckle at me.
"Sorry boys. Didn't want you all to suffer. But he's gotta learn."
Brian took his other cleat off and threw it to the side, leaving him in just his disgustingly dirty, sweaty socks. Just from the look of them, I knew what he meant by lucky socks. They were discolored, yellowish in appearance and worn down. The players obviously didn't wash their socks since the beginning of training for the season weeks ago. The smell was so foul, even from a distance, I coughed.
"I get it, Brian! I do! I promise no more washing socks!"
Brian smirked.
He peeled off one of the socks, exposing his bare, sweaty foot. The smell was reaching an unimaginable level. Nearly all the players were backing away, covering their noses. Lucas tossed one of the rolls of duct tape over to Brian who caught it with ease. A devilish smile spread across his face as he held the duct tape in one hand and the balled up football sock in the other.
"It's quiet time."
To be continued...