The Football Defender

“Bull in the hotel lobby, I repeat, bull in the hotel lobby!”

Today was the day that Derek was going to propose to my sister Cora. He had convinced all our family and friends to help set up an elaborate surprise at her favourite hotel. I wasn’t big on romance but even I had to admit this was sweet.

I wasn’t a fan of Derek, but he made Cora happy, so I put up with him.

It was a miracle Cora found anyone at all. Being the revered linebacker in a women’s American football team came with its own tribulations. She was known as a formidable force for her sheer size and strength. We called her the bull for a reason…

…And she was early.

“Dammit Marcel, you were meant to keep her out for another hour! We’re not ready, you have to stall,” I yell into the phone. If you want something done right, do it yourself. That was my mother’s motto and yet here I was relying on the spineless brain of Marcel Evans, my brother, to ensure that this plan played out without a hitch. Mother would roll over in her grave if she knew.

We started calling Cora a bull when she was 10. That was when our father took us to a rodeo, and she saw a bull for the first time. The way it bucked, huffed, glared and charged at the red cloth that taunted it, resonated with my sister for some unknown reason. You’d think she’d been oppressed her whole life with how well she seemed to empathise with that unpredictable beast. For weeks after she would ram her head into furniture, walls, people, anything really. She was so fascinated that she couldn’t help but mimic the bull that plagued her thoughts. And thus her nickname was born. It was not long after that when she tried out for football. Unsurprisingly, she was a natural. Progressing through the ranks, at lightning speed, till she turned pro. Before we knew it, she was the best of the best, the unbeatable linebacker.

After that, her life changed radically. She was famous and she was feared. Any man that came near her proved to only want her for the fame and the others cowered at her sight. We called her the bull, but she couldn’t be farther from it at heart. She was the softest person I had met, like a ball of cotton wool. She was sweet and sensitive and kind. Her crazy only came out during a game, but her reputation was daunting enough to ward off everyone. Often times men would puff up their chests around her, stand up taller, and by doing so, expose how intimidated and insecure they really felt around her.

So you best believe I was cautious of Derek when he came around. He was the first ‘normal’ guy she’d ever caught the attention of and annoyingly, he hadn’t once stepped out of line since they started dating. So when he came to me and Marcel for our blessing, we really didn’t have a case against him. We had no choice but to concede.

“Ok it’s done,” came Derek’s voice, breaking me out of my thoughts. I spun around to take it all in. Derek had tracked down four of Cora’s all-time favourite retired rugby players. They now stood holding up 4 signs with the words Will you Marry me? written across them. The hotel penthouse room we were in was decorated with candles, roses and all of her family and friends. He had even scoured through every record store in Manhattan to track down a rare record from her childhood favourite band, which was now playing throughout the room on repeat. He’d gone all out, and I was impressed.

As I looked around, I realised that maybe it was finally time to let my sister go. Perhaps I was too harsh with Derek. He was the one. He adored her, even a child could see that. He would keep her safe. Which meant my job was done.

She had been the football player, but I had been her defender for our whole lives. And now it was time for her to move on, without me.

With that in mind, I called Marcel.

“We’re ready, bring her up brother.”