Two years ago on the second week of Christmas break, I was with two of my friends from my town who were on my football team. We were waiting on my couch for the other people who were invited to get there, but since they were the only ones from my town, they were the first to arrive. It was quiet for a while, and my friend was typing frantically on his phone. I asked him what was wrong, and after a couple of seconds, he whispered: “Logan’s gone”. 

I didn't believe him, Logan had been fighting his battle with cancer for two years; he was cancer free for more than 600 days, but it was true. I didn't know what to feel, my thoughts coursed through my head echoing, “It’s not fair”, and “He didn’t deserve it”. “He didn’t deserve it,” stuck in my mind for months after. 

Logan wasn’t just any other kid, he was the nicest, most ecstatic person I knew, even with everything he had been through. His mom told a story that one of the last things he ever did was when they were coming back from treatment, he saw a homeless gentleman outside the car. Logan told his mom to hand him her wallet and he gave the man all the money she had and told him to have a nice day. Logan was also on my football team for almost 3 years, and he wasn’t the best player on the team, but he didn’t care. I remember in 7th grade we were getting ready for the championship game, and naturally, our coaches were stressed. I don't know what I did to make my coaches so mad at me, but I do remember them yelling at me pretty good and how many laps I had to run, which was 3. But what I recall most from that moment, was when I was getting water after I ran my laps, and Logan came over to me and said, “Yo, you see the Panthers won their last game”, we were both longtime Panthers fans, and he always made sure to tell me when they won. I wasn’t in the best mood and he knew that, so then he told me, “I don’t care what the coaches say, if we go out on that field, and lose, it sure as hell won’t be your fault.” 

The football season after Logan passed was the most emotional season of my life, because, for me and my team, football became more than a game; every time we stepped on that field, we were doing it for Logan. It was also the 8th-grade season, the one we wanted to win the most, and in the first game of the season, our starting quarterback broke his leg. To add fuel to the fire, right before playoffs, our secondary quarterback broke his wrist. With two leaders on the team out, a lot of it was up to me; at least that's what I told myself. We lost in the championship, and I blamed myself even after everything we went through as a team. I felt like I failed; I failed Logan and my teammates, and I berated myself for not doing more when there really was nothing else I could do. The next year I was considering not playing that season and I told myself I was quitting for injury risk, but in reality, I was scared of failure.  

After the season, Logan's memorial service was scheduled. I went, and I was talking to Logan's mom, she told me Logan went to bed every night with a football in his arms because he couldn’t wait to be back on the field with us, and that killed me. I saw the passion he had for the sport and the love he had for the game, and the opportunity to do what he loved was taken from him. I realized I shouldn’t deprive myself of doing what I love, and at that moment I decided I was going to play next season. But football wasn’t the only way he influenced me, he motivated me to be a better person. Every day I strive to look at everything with a positive and upbeat mindset, the same way Logan would every day.