AOKFA

By Alex Shriver

I dedicate my story, AOKFA, to a great program called Maple Leaf.

Maple Leaf Writing Project

Brattleboro VT

PART 1

Jose

Sunday, the best of days. The day of football, or so it was for 40 year old Green Bay Packers head coach, Jose Sampson. Jose was driving his 2038 Cadillac in his hometown Green Bay, Wisconsin, enjoying his bye week, listening to the Lions/Bengals game, when all of a sudden, a scrawny kid in a stained, white shirt jumped in front of his car and caught a football in one hand. He was so amazed by this almost professional catch that he swerved, crashed into the new T.D. Bank, and bent his car to a 90 degree angle. Jose leaped out of his car and screeched, “Hey, kid!”

The mysterious kid turned and bolted. “Hey,” Jose called for a second time, “I’ll call the police!” Maybe it was just a reflex, or maybe he was afraid of the police, but the kid turned around. Jose rushed towards him. That’s when Jose saw his shirt, a disgustingly dirty and stained AOKF shirt. Jose knew the letters stood for: All-Out Kids Football Academy. Eighteen NFL players have gone there, and seventeen of them have been elected to the hall of fame.

“Can I see that football?” Jose asked, still stunned. “Now, run a post route!” And the 70 pounder did so. Jose was astonished. He perfectly caught the ball one handed over his shoulder, good thing this was an uncrowded street.

“Wow! Did you learn that at the academy?” Jose asked, wondering how this kid had made two almost NFL type catches.

“Huh?” The kid’s first words.

“The academy. Yah know … the AOKFA … on your shirt.” Jose puzzled.

“Oh, yeah!”

Oh, my god, where were this kid’s parents? “Hey, uh, where are your parents?” And why weren’t they near? He looked up to find that the kid was sprinting away, dang, he was fast! “Wait!” Jose exclaimed, but it was too late. Man, was his insurance going to be mad. His cadillac was not supposed to look like an L from a bird’s eye view. Better start walking. What an idiot! Why hadn’t he stopped the kid? That could have been the future of the Green Bay Packers.

“Taxi!” he screamed.

He was determined, he was going to make this kid famous. Jose wondered, was this kid an orphan?

Who threw him the ball?

* * *

The first day of the hunt! All Jose had to do was to go back to the alley, ask the kid where his parents were, then offer to train him to be an NFL star. He could already feel the Super Bowl rings on his fingers.

26 days later-

WHERE WAS THIS STINKING KID?! He had been searching for this kid for 26 days! He had probably moved out of the city. Maybe, Jose thought, he should stop looking and just give up.

He turned his new car around and started to drive home. What was he thinking, searching for a kid in order to be famous? What if this kid didn’t even want to play football for him? What if he … he didn’t know.

He arrived home and walked up the stone paved driveway, he counted the stones and tried not to tear up. Why? Why had he thought he could turn a twig into a … a … a star, beyond any other? He put his hand on the golden door knob with diamond studded sides. He twisted the knob, pushed the door open, and walked into his yellow and green mansion.

He sulked towards his couch and, using his Chrome Cast, watched tapes of the Packers last game, watching every move each player made, deciding what they would have to work on.

The doorbell rang. Jose slouched over, wishing the world would just go away. Whoever was outside must have been really anxious, they kept ringing the doorbell. “I’m coming!” Jose screamed as he alerted security to be warned. Jose opened the door and immediately told security to, “Get that kid!”

He watched the same kid he’d been searching for, for so long, sprint away as two broad security guards chased him, when suddenly he cut back and made the guards fall down. The scrawny kid ran around them and bolted. The guards got up and chased him. Jose closed his door, went over to his leopard print couch, flopped onto it and kept taking notes on the Packers last game.

A security guard walked into Jose’s house holding the kid.

“Where’s Jamie?” Jose asked the other guard (Bobby).

“He I-” Bobby began.

“That huge guy’s name is ‘Jamie’?” the delinquent laughed.

“Yes.” Jose answered, “What is your name?”

“Don’t have one.” he said glumly. “Though, my best friend called me Allen.”

“Then we’re gonna call you Allen.” Jose frowned. “Again, where is Jamie?”

“He’s coming.” Bobby reassured.

“Tell me your life story.” Jose demanded.

So Allen did, he told Jose all about how he was found in a garbage can sucking on his foot. He then was raised by an orphanage he despised, met his best friend, and ran away with him once he was ten.

“We were together for about a year, starving, homeless. To pass time we played football.” Allen explained, “Until, when I made you crash, he bolted. I’ve been trying to find him, that’s why I came here.” Allen pulled a picture of another scrawny boy in a stained shirt out of his pocket. Allen was still wearing that AOKFA shirt.

“That all makes sense, except… why would you tell me this?” Jose, trying to put all the pieces together.

“Because you haven’t called the police yet.” Allen responded as if he’d had hours to think about it. “May I ask you for your name?”

“Jose Sampson, but you shall call me Mr. Sampson.” Jose hesitated, he gestured the guards to let go of Allen. “One other thing that troubles me is, when did you go to the academy?”

“Uh… Oh… wait, oh yeah! At the orphanage the ‘instructors’ realized I was good at football. They sent me to the academy, where I got lots of new football skills and a better education than I had at the orphanage. I soon learned that they hoped I would become a professional and give them publicity. So I intentionally got kicked out.”

“I am so sorry!” Jose felt terrible. How could anyone treat another the way people treated Allen?

“I’m guessing you’re not going to press charges or send me back to the orphanage right?” Allen asked.

“No, just the opposite actually. What if I told you that you could get a great education and become famous?”

So it was that Jose adopted Allen and officially changed Allen’s name to Allen Sampson. This kid was truly remarkable.

* * *

Jose walked down the stairs, yep, still eighteen steps. “Allen?” That’s weird, thought Jose, for he did not get a response, “Allen?” Jose walked to the door, twisted the handle, pushed the door open and got a whiff of fresh blades of grass, easy, breathable air and, spray paint, “Allen!” Jose roared. Written on Jose’s new cadillac, in spray paint, were the words:

ANTONIO I GOT A NEW RIDE

“Oh, hey Mr. Sampson. Good morning!” Allen looked confused, “Are you mad?”

“Yes, Allen. Yes I am mad,” Jose said calmly. “I am mad. You wanna know why?”

“Not really.” Allen said, cautiously backing away.

Jose pondered his options. He could yell at the kid and risk him running away. He could help him with the other side and break it to him easily. Or he could just say get in the car and start searching for Antonio.

“Allen!” Then all of a sudden a leaf smacked him in the face, as if telling him to go with the second option instead of the first. “FINE!” Jose shouted, not realizing that he’d said it out loud. Jose picked up a can and gestured for Allen to come to the other side of the car with him. “This way.”

“I’ll write ‘T A NEW RIDE’. You write ‘ANTONIO I GO.’” Offered Jose. He cringed every time he blew the neon green paint out of the black and blue bottle. Geico probably wouldn’t pay to get this off. “I’m sorry Allen. I just got frustrated. You know? Normally I would not let you do something like this.”

“Okay. Sorry Mr. Sampson.” Allen apologized.

“Let’s go.” proposed Jose.

One hour later-

“Hello!” Jose said, who was trying to find Antonio, to the lady at the front desk of the ‘Orphanage of Green Bay’. “I am looking to adopt a-”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah, You got Antonio? Miranda.” Allen ran in and asked the lady.

“Antonio, to the front desk-” Miranda tried to say over the PA system.

“It’s Allen!” Allen interrupted again.

“I thought I told you to stay in the car?” Jose scolded and Allen started tearing up, “I’m sor-”

“Antonio!” Allen had been tearing up about seeing Antonio. He rushed over to him. “Jose is gonna adopt you!”

“No, he’s not.” answered Antonio.

“What do you mean?” Allen seemed confused.

“Another family adopted me yesterday. We were gonna start searching for you tomorrow.”

“Then why are you here?”

“I left my only picture of you in my ‘room’” Antonio was using air quotes when said the word ‘room.’ “I gotta go.”

“Here’s our phone number.” Jose handed Antonio a business card. “You two should get together sometime.”

Part 2

Allen

Ten Years Later

“Sorry Allen.” Antonio said softly.

“About what?” Allen tried not to sound grumpy. The truth was that he was grumpy. He was sitting on this cold bench losing his sense of hearing because of the stupid crowd and for what? So he could do it again next year? Stupid Mariota Tune (Packers offensive coordinator). Jose should get to say whether or not he was on the bench. Just because he was the smallest guy on the team meant that he had to be on the bench, he had to be the third string running back! Allen watched a plane fly over the field, as he calculated the capacity of people possible to fit in it. He was fascinated in the physics of flying vehicles.

“That you’re the best player on the team, yet you’re stuck on the bench.”

“Denard!” Jose screamed, “you’re up!”

“I gotta go.” Antonio told Allen.

Antonio had been bumped up to second string wide receiver. Allen saw Jose whispering to Mariota. Mariota pointed to Allen, maybe they were going to put him in! This would be a great time. One minute left in the game, down six points, on the Packers’ own two yard line two time-outs left, all Allen would have to do was get past the line, break one or two tackles then do what he does best, run faster than everyone else.

“Allen!” Mariota screamed, “Go in for Torres.” Allen felt beads of sweat dripping down his face, each one felt like an ice cube sliding down his neck and face.

“Thank you!” Allen jogged into the huddle, “James, you’re out.”

“Well, there goes our chances,” James was in a particularly nasty mood. God, Allen resented that guy. He resented him like… well… Allen didn’t think he hated anything more. For about a year that demon mocked Allen, called him out on everything he did.

“Okay, Mr. Sampson says to do an HB Dive!” Juan Sanchez informed them. “Don’t mess this up!” he screamed over the crowd to Allen. Juan and Antonio were the only players that didn’t criticize Allen because of his size.

“Hike!” Juan received the snap and handed the ball to Allen.

Right away a huge defensive lineman lunged at Allen, and Allen sidestepped to the right then sprinted past him. There was a gaping hole in the line, but it was closing. The Bills were known for having a great rush defense. Instead, Allen ran through a smaller hole on the right side, one of the advantages of being small. He was in open space, with linemen chasing him. He kept running. He was considerably faster than the guys behind him but he still had to recognize that they were there. A bigger than normal safety ran at him and tucked down. Allen’s mind was racing. What should he do? There were cornerbacks on both sides of him and a defensive tackle behind him. Then he remembered a move that he was told not to do because of his size: hurdling! Allen hurdled right over the safety and made all the defenders run into each other. The crowd was silent. Allen was running way past all but one of the defenders on the green astroturf of the Buffalo Bills. The far safety was the only one in his way. Allen didn’t even think when the safety tried to tackle him, Allen just trucked that poor chump. He was gone!

“The forty, the thirty, the twenty, the ten!” You could hear over the crowd from the announcers at Rogers Centre.

Allen was so far ahead of everyone that he somersaulted into the endzone. What a rush! God, this game was awesome! It took his teammates about two more seconds to reach him. Antonio jumped on Allen and yelled, “We’re the kings of the world!

Allen couldn’t believe it. He’d just got the Packers a playoff spot for the first time in four years! “Allen, you did it! If I’m not donkey licked, that is the longest first run by a rookie in NFL history! Your first NFL run was for 98 yards! Hopefully it brought us to the playoffs, too!” Juan exclaimed. “Party at my place!”

“Yeah, but we still gotta win this game!” Allen tried yelling over the crowd.

“We gotta get off the field,” Antonio warned.

“He’s right!” James was standing in front of Allen.

Hugo, the Packers’ record setting kicker, kicked the extra point. He then kicked the ball off and safetied the Bills.

“Hey, Allen!” Jose walked over to Allen and whispered, actually spoke, so only Allen could hear. “Allen, Mariota just put you in for second string running back. He says you and James are going to share the ball now. He also says that if you have better postseason stats than him, he might trade James for a good CB. Don’t tell anyone that I told you this.”

“Thanks, Jose!” This success felt like what he could imagine flying on a battery powered hovering vehicle.

* * *

One Year Later

Week 15 of the regular season of 2049 was the day Allen only needed 3 yards to get 2365 yards in a single season and set the record for most rushing yards in a single season. He already had the most touchdowns with 31. That took a wild turn!

Allen, what was he thinking? Allen, why did he do this? Allen, why didn’t he tell him? Allen- Allen- Allen- “Allen, Allen, Allen!” Allen opened his eyes, he was on a stretcher, he was in his uniform, he was wearing all his padding.

“Allen, how are you feeling?” Mr. Sampson was walking beside Allen. He sounded softer than ever before.

“Where are we?” Allen asked, “Why does my head feel like it…”

“Allen-”

The room was spinning, Allen’s brain was throwing up...

* * *

Allen jumped out of his bed, where was he? Why was he in a hospital? A doctor walked over. “You should lie down.” she said gently. Mr. Sampson walked in.

“What is going on?” Allen questioned. His head hurt like… well… he couldn’t quite explain it. “I was just handed the ball by Juan, the rest is a blur.”

“You ran six yards then were slammed down to the ground so hard that your helmet cracked and went flying. It was by J. R. Santone, the biggest player in the league.” Mr. Sampson explained, “You got a major concussion. You’ve been out for three months. We lost to the Patriots in the super bowl for the second year in a row.”

Allen knew what he had to do. He felt like he was in prison and the bars were common sense. “Jose, I’ve been meaning to tell you that I love playing in the NFL, but I… I wanna go to college. I’ve got enough money to pay to go to any college I want. I want to go to the University of Michigan.”

“Okay.”

“I also don’t think I’m going to play football there.”

“That’s fine.”

“Now, I know you are ma- Did you just say ‘that’s fine?’”

Jose just nodded.

“But I had a whole speech planned, well, kind of. How are you ‘okay!’”

“Because I didn’t adopt you for your football skills.” Jose hesitated, Allen could easily tell he was correcting himself. “Okay, so I did adopt you for your football skills at first, but, I love you, Allen. You’re my son. I support you no matter what.”

Two months later. Allen walked out of his old house which he’d just sold to Antonio, with his headphones on listening to Don’t by Ed Sheeran. He had a plane to catch. Paparazzi took pictures of him as he walked to his car, gestured for him to move over there and there. “Can you hold this while I take a picture of you?” he read from their lips. Allen just kept walking, he got in his green and yellow 2049 Cadillac, courtesy of Jose, and drove away.

He arrived at the airport in his new disguise. He ate a bagel from Dunkin Donuts, waited an hour for the plane, and sat next to a kid around eleven years old and his mother on the plane.

“Finally, I can take off this disguise.” Allen took of his wig. “Hi, I’m Allen, what’s your name?” he asked the kid.

“You mean, like, Allen S-Sampson?” The kid asked, more nervous than a teenager on prom night. Allen nodded. “M-m-my n-name is J-Jerry.”

“You and I are gonna get along just fine as long as you don’t ask for an autograph.” Allen joked. “No I’m kidding.”

“Y-you wanna play checkers?” Jerry wondered.

“Sure!” Allen answered.

Allen reached Michigan, spent three years in college, became a scientist and created the world’s first fuel efficient flying car. Allen never stepped foot on a football field again. Antonio and Allen stayed in touch, Antonio beat several wide receiver records, including most yards in a single season. Allen and Jose often visited each other. Jose never won a super bowl.

Allen never told Jose that he didn’t go to the AOKFA. He never told him that he actually just found the shirt in a garbage can, Antonio didn’t tell anyone either. He didn’t have to tell Jose. It didn’t matter, because the world is a blind place. A blind place of politics and death. You shouldn’t have to know things you cannot handle. You shouldn’t have to know why it was done. If they can’t figure it out, then just don’t tell. AOKFA will remain a secret.

The End

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