Page 26 of Catching Our Moment
Shaw
“Today we’re joined by the touchdown shuffle master himself, Dawson Shawfield.
” TJ “Smitty” Smith, a retired teammate and friend, drawled on my computer screen as we taped his podcast—me at home in my makeshift office with my newly set-up sound equipment, and him in his home office.
Brilliant thing about podcasts and technology: there was no need to travel to a studio.
“Hey, man, how’s it going?” I asked, sitting back in my chair with the haphazard background Kelcie and Grace had helped me arrange so it didn’t look as sparse as it was.
A borrowed bookcase from Dylan, a few books and photos from Grace and Kelcie, and, of course, a football and knick-knacks from Aaron.
“Good, man. How’s the shoulder?”
I nodded with a smile and folded my hands in my lap. “Getting there. How’s retirement?”
“Ah, pretty damn nice, to be honest. I went a whole two years without breaking something. Want to join me?” He was fishing. It was the question everyone was asking me, constantly.
I laughed it off. “Ha. Ha. No comment.”
“I’m sure it would make a lot of linebackers and defensive coaches really happy.”
“I’m sure it would. Probably my doctors and physical therapists too. I think they’re getting tired of putting this Humpty Dumpty back together. But they do a good job, and I feel like a new man each time they do.”
“No doubt,” he said. “But seriously. Let’s talk facts. You are getting up there in age for a tight end. Have you thought about giving it up and sitting back to enjoy the fruits of your labor?”
I dropped my head and then looked up at him with a smirk. “I have a few weeks to make it back to the season, and then we will see. Right now, our team is doing phenomenally, and my main focus is getting back to help them as fast as I can.”
TJ had set up a nice life for himself after his football career ended, and I needed to take note of it.
I’d been to TJ’s mansion in Florida and knew this podcast wasn’t just a hobby.
His was quickly becoming the top-rated podcast on the apps, and that meant advertising money.
While Riley had nagged me about moving to LA, one thing she’d been right about was that I needed an exit strategy.
More and more, it was becoming apparent that my football career was coming to an end, and I had no idea what was next for me.
And man, I just couldn’t swallow that reality yet.
TJ glanced over at the sound booth, where Aaron was studying the soundboard, asking questions.
“Clearly, you have a lot to keep you busy.” I’d introduced Aaron to TJ earlier, and the two of them had hit it off, quizzing each other on team rosters and statistics.
What truly impressed TJ was that Aaron could describe what plays had been called in random games from five years earlier in the order they’d been played.
“Okay, fine. But let’s just theorize…hypothetically speaking…if you were to retire…”
The corner of his mouth twitched, and I dramatically rolled my eyes.
“ IF you were going to retire…how would Carolina fill the hole left by you?”
“Come on, man, no one can replace me,” I said to him, leaning back and running my hands down my chest. You couldn’t be at my level and not throw down cockiness now and then.
“Yeah, but if you were Coach Lubiski, what would you do to shift the offense? Is there a tight end out there that could carry your mantle, or would it mean rethinking some of their game?”
“I couldn’t begin to tell you?—”
“Because there’s talk…”
“There’s always gossip, man,” I was quick to point out. “It’s what makes podcasts like yours so riveting.”
He chuckled, but he was like a dog with a bone. “That big guy out of Alabama. Everyone is saying he’s the next Dawson Shawfield—and he’s waiving his junior year to enter the draft.” TJ was backing me into a figurative corner, pointing the pen in his hand at me. “Just like you.”
Aaron caught my attention from my doorway, waving his hands madly, jumping up and down.
We told him the rule was he could stay in the hallway if he wanted to watch, but he had to be quiet.
I’d given him a pair of headphones so he could listen to both TJ and me.
In hindsight, it was probably a mistake, because Kelcie told me he’d have opinions.
Trying to ignore his gestures, I looked back to TJ on the screen. “He’s good. No doubt he’s the tight end to watch in the draft class.”
“Nonetheless, you’ve had some amazing, memorable plays. Like that one you had against San Francisco four years ago when you had that slant route. Perry was forced out of the pocket, and you were open and ran and dragged defenders for forty-seven yards for the game-winning touchdown.”
Aaron slowly inched in farther until he was eventually behind me, and his waving caught TJ’s attention. “I think your friend there has some thoughts about our conversation. “What? Did I say something wrong?” TJ said.
I rubbed my hand over my jawline. “This is my resident expert and advisor,” I said.
TJ let out a small chuckle, the type you do when you find a kid cute. Okay, then, we were doing this. It might be amusing to see Aaron take on TJ—and it would definitely take the heat off of me. “Do you mind if he joins us?
TJ’s eyebrows shot up, but he was curious enough to let it roll. “Sure. Sure.”
“Aaron, pull up that other chair,” I said, making room for him to join me by the mic.
Aaron’s assuredness halted just short of the camera shot.
“Hey, my man. What’s up?” I said over my shoulder as if we were just sitting at a booth in a restaurant.
Aaron hesitated, staring at TJ and the equipment, and rethinking his action, confidence leeched from his face. “You’re wrong.”
“What’s that?” I asked Aaron. “Come closer to the mic so he can hear you better.” I motioned him forward with my hand, making sure not to touch him.
“He’s wrong,” Aaron repeated. “Tell him.” He stared at his hands as he fidgeted with his fingers. “Tell him he’s wrong. That’s not what happened. It was the Denver game, and you ran forty-seven yards.” As Aaron spoke, I slowly maneuvered the microphone between us.
“Perry snaps the ball—” Aaron gave the play-by-play as if it was being read back by the announcer, just like he had the night we watched the game together.
TJ leaned back in his chair, crossed his leg over his knee, twirling a pen between his two hands, sliding it back and forth while listening to a teenager school him.
Once Aaron stopped giving his dissertation as to all the reasons TJ was incorrect, he turned off his commentary and sat still with his hands clasped in front of him, chin down. I nudged him and whispered, “Good job.” He glanced at me, and I winked.
TJ blinked multiple times. “What do you think was the best play of Shaw’s career?”
“Dallas, last year, third quarter, second and five. Perry dropped back in the pocket, couldn’t find Miller, Shaw ran a slant and broke the coverage, with a catch and run got a 43-yard touchdown,” Aaron answered.
“What was the best play of my career?”
Aaron proceeded to stroke TJ’s ego with a verbal highlight reel of his career, even giving statistics and comparisons that had TJ leaning back in his seat and crossing a leg over his knee.
“You seem to know a lot about football.”
“Yep.”
“Can you tell me the scores from last weekend’s games?”
“That’s too easy. You can look those up online. Ask me something harder.”
“Las Vegas versus New England 2018?”
Aaron shot off. “That’s easy?—”
TJ lifted a hand and said, “At halftime.”
Aaron lifted an eyebrow and one side of his mouth. “10-3 at the half and 20-6 final Las Vegas.” His eyes lit up, and he inched up in his seat. “Ask me more.”
TJ rubbed his hand over his chin, “Carolina versus Dallas, 2020 Wild Card game, 2:20 left in the half, 3 rd and two?—"
Aaron took a moment, looked up at the ceiling, fidgeted with his fingers, and said, “Chris Tresor ran a bootleg for a touchdown.”
TJ tried again. “Carolina versus San Diego 2019 season opener 3 rd quarter, following a punt return?—”
“Jamar Frankis runs a jet sweep 54 yards for a touchdown.” Aaron shifted on his feet, quicker and more confident this time. He turned to me, and his eyes were smiling. “This is fun.”
“Is he right?” I asked TJ because I had no idea—but I thought he was.
TJ shrugged. “No idea. It’s your damn team, man.” And we both started chuckling.
“You’re gold,” he said to Aaron, leaning back and running his hand over his head. “You are blowing my mind.” His eyes grew big and then narrowed as he studied Aaron. “You’re how old?”
“Twelve.” Aaron glanced at me for reassurance, and I reached out a hand to place gently on his back, coaxing him closer.
TJ’s shoulders shook with amusement. “We’re about to have some fun…”
Aaron, TJ, and I sat for an hour, talking shop. Actually, Aaron and TJ shot back and forth. I just sat and watched, occasionally inserting my two cents.
“Okay…” TJ clapped his hands. “Well, this hour went by quicker and in a different direction than I had planned. Actually, I couldn’t have even begun to come up with this. Aaron, it was a pleasure to meet you and to have you join us. Shaw, I do believe you’ve been overshadowed.”
I laughed. “It doesn’t happen often, but yes, with my man, Aaron, it happens frequently.”
“You think we can talk him into coming back?” He spoke to me but motioned to Aaron. Aaron tilted his head and furrowed his brow until we both looked at him.
“TJ would like to know if you want to come back and talk to him and his listeners some more?” I asked him.
He stared directly at TJ. “You will have to talk to my mom about it,” he said. “Shaw isn’t in charge.”
TJ laughed, “Oh, is that right? I thought maybe he was your agent,” he joked.
The joke fell flat with Aaron. “Oh, no. Not Shaw. Uncle Wyatt is in charge of any negotiations or any legal correspondence for my mom and me.”
“What about Shaw…or your father?”
“No, my mom said Shaw is not my dad.”
TJ’s eyebrows shot up to his hairline. “Was that a possibility?”
Oh, please. I glared at TJ with my hands outstretched, asking him without words, What the hell? You don’t ask a kid that kind of question…and forget about the video camera.
“No, he’s not my father.” Still speaking to his feet, in his normal monotone voice, he added, “Although, sometimes, I wish he was.”
Silence.
Dead silence.
TJ whispered, “We can edit that out.”
I pulled Aaron closer to my side as if to shelter him from feeling so lost and to communicate that I would always be there for him.
TJ, to his credit, jumped in. “Yeah, Shaw’s a pretty cool guy. But how about I check with your mom about having you back on the show?”
Aaron nodded and stepped forward, offering TJ his hand. “Thank you for letting me talk on your show, Mr. TJ.”
“Thank you, Dawson Shawfield and Aaron,” he said, purposely leaving his last name off since he was a minor.
“And thank you, listeners. Join us next time on Smitty’s Smack Talk .