My brothers, Dallas, Drew and Drake (the twins)—are going to be attending the university in Madison, Wisconsin—a few short hours from where I’m staying with Posey.
Dallas has a big ole pickup truck, so they’ll be driving with a rented trailer but wanted my help moving their shit into the off-campus house I bought when Dallas was a freshman.
And before you say anything, yes—there are four of us, and yes, all our first names begin with the letter D, something our pops wanted when we were born.
And yes, we all play football.
Kind of hard not to when it’s in your blood, and when, from the time you could walk, you had a football in your hand. When your dad ran drills with you before you could talk. When the expectation that you were going to follow in his footsteps was so high…you didn’t dare play any other sports.
No baseball leagues, no hockey.
Breathe.
Eat.
Football.
No clubs, no hobbies—just football.
It wasn’t just the way it was growing up in Texas—that was the way it was in the Colter household, being raised by a dad who was a legendary sports figure. He hired us trainers, coaches, and coached us himself.
It sucked.
But I’m the man I am today because of him.May he rest in peace.
I make a sign of the cross before texting my baby brother back.
He’s a good kid—a sophomore—another Colter living in the shadow of the two men who came before him; our pops and me, and some days I feel sorry for the kid.
The twins too, but they’re a different breed than I am, giving less fucks than I ever did. Their talent comes naturally, so they never have to work as hard.
The Colter Twins are famous in our small town, and they’re as famous on their college campus as they will if they decide to go pro.
The media and the teams will eat that shit up and make them a fortune—if they don’t fuck it up.
Me:Yeah, I’ll be meeting you there. Just let me know the address and what day you plan on arriving.
Dallas:Cool
Me:Yipee ki ya….
Dallas:…Motherfucker
Me:Do me a favor and don’t tell any of your little buddies I’ll be in town.
Dallas:None of my buddies are little.
Me:You know what I mean…
Dallas:Yeah, yeah, I know what you mean.
Dallas:You’re feeding us, yeah?
I roll my eyes. What is it with guys and food?
Me:Sure, we can order food or something.
Dallas:Cool.