Javon, the big time football prospect, gets "pleasured" by an introduction to college football.
I committed to play ball at this school in California for one reason: the brotherhood shown amongst the players.
Growing up in a single parent home, where my mom raised me, the eldest and only boy out of six, we were in a little box of an apartment on the southside of Chicago, and well, sleeping in my own bed was a no-go when the place only had two bedrooms. I busted ass on that field and in the classroom, and got the offers to play in the midwest, ultimately closer to home, but that one offer, to attend college on the west coast, and finally be free and my own man, was too good to pass up, and so I did what you would call an official visit the spring of my junior year, I was sold that day.
"Baby, are you sure that's what you want," my mother asked.
I was, and so we held a commitment ceremony the first day of school in August of my senior year, in which I four hats on a table seating my mom, coaches, and closest friends, with a large audience watching as I chose to go to California.
I got that out of the way to lead me and my team to have a great season in which we made it to the state semifinals, and then I was off to college right after Christmas, for I graduated technically during my junior year due to extra efforts in the classroom, and toiled around with electives my senior year.
"I'm gonna miss you. You're 18 and a man now, this changes everything for us," my mom stated as she saw me off to my gate at the airport the day I flew to Cali.
Little did I know those words would mean so much, and though I had the option to finish the school year til graduation in May, I had to think of my future, and so I wanted a head start to playing time by enrolling early.
"Lil buddy, you came out here thinking you'll get some playing time as a true freshman? Boy, you need your noggin' checked," said Davis, one of the juniors on the team, and the star cornerback. "I'll jam you every chance you line up against me."
Those words came out of his mouth in January, as me and a handful of other early enrollees checked into the practice facility for indoctrination, as the coaches wanted us to fully meet the team, get a full tour of campus, and of course, workout. Me being who I am, the five star All American receiver out of Chicago, I didn't take long to adjust and meet people as the vibe overall was chill in comparison to home. Most of the other receivers showed love, as did other teammates, the girls were on point, and well, even the professors were cool as the transition went smoother than I thought. I'd even found me a little breezy, Sanala, a brown skinned, slimmie sophomore from Guam, who clung to me as we started hanging out, for she had a car, and an apartment off campus. Four days after meeting her and treating her to lunch, she gave me head and got a real fucking from a Chicago bull, and we stuck, as this completed my circle, so to speak. For all the worries my mother had of me leaving the nest, I showed her everything would be peaches.
"Ma, I got us," I told her one Friday after we had a workout session, as I was on the phone with her being cheerful, checking on her and my sisters back home.
Davis happened to hear the conversation, and when I put my phone away, he approached me.
"You think this shit gon' be a walk in the park. Come spring time, I'm on yo ass," he told me.
The one thing that made me stand out while in high school wasn't just my physical attributes (six foot one, 190 lbs., benching 330 lbs., running a 4.31 40-yard dash), but it was my work ethic, as even after harsh practices, I would still grind, or in the classroom, I was the one tutoring other kids and questioning theories. I felt I had mouths to feed, and so my grind's purpose was to make sure my family wouldn't starve, or be cold anymore, as my mother made things happen with great sacrifice. I kept my mouth shut until April came, and we strapped up for drills, contact, then the spring game, in which I was playing with the first team offense, lining up against, you guessed it, the six foot two, 210 lb. pro football prospect from Houston named Davis.
"I'm putting you on yo ass first chance," he told me at first snap.
He did the first three snaps, not letting me get five yards off as he kept jamming me even when the ball was designed to stay on the ground. The fourth play, the quarterback made it clear the ball was coming my way, and so I made a juke move past Davis, catching the ball at our own 35 yard line, then slipping past everyone else to score. The next offensive opportunity I was handed the ball directly one play, and Davis was shadowing me, as he tried to tackle me and caught a nice stiff arm to where I tossed him a few feet as he underestimated my strength, and I would run 88 yards to the house. My team won by two touchdowns, as when it was all said and done I had eight catches for 197 yards and two scores, then the end around for 88 yards and a score. I got MVP, and Davis, who was punished after practice by the coaches, humbled himself and apologized for his attitude towards me.
"Davis, you from the hood, too. You should remember, let the play do all the talkin'," I told him after the game.
"Hey, rook, I mean Javon. You wanna hang out tonight," he asked me. "Me, Ray, and Taj, we're all going out for drinks and to see some tails shake, if you down?"
I messaged Sanala, as she at first check that morning didn't have any plans, but all of a sudden wanted to "hang with a star."
"Oh brother, go be with the team, I see how it goes," she said to me. "No really I'm joking, its important that you forge that bond with the guys. I love you. See you tomorrow, as it'll be our time."
Later that evening Davis picked me up in his brand new, cherry red, Chevy Silverado, then we scooped Ray and Taj, two other cornerbacks and his good friends, then headed across town to a frat house that was hosting a party. We stayed there a bit, as the three of them drank liquor, and I puffed a little weed (a regular thing when I was in high school), and talked to some of the white girls before we bounced to a strip party at a house a few miles away.
"The bitches you about to see? Oh my God, rook, they're about to blow your mind," Davis said as he was cruising on the highway.
He was right, as we entered some house in the middle of this exclusive, baller-type neighborhood far away from the college. We were greeted by a white guy wearing a butler uniform, as he led us to a small ballroom with a chandelier hovering over a bunch of drunk, white dudes in suits, as all seemed to know Davis and immediately showed love to us.
"Gentlemen, meet the future, Javon Parks. Not sure if you guys saw, but he put us on notice today," Davis said as he introduced me.
