Fires People Right Up

#. February 18, 2023

#-1. Atlanta, Georgia, USA

#-2. Jenkins Elite QB Academy

I'm not exaggerating even a little when I say that once my relationship with Kendall went public, every single person who knew me reached out.

People I'd known since childhood, all the way up to now.

Truly, everyone.

Summing up the guys' reactions, it was [“Daaaaaaamn.”], and the girls mostly just gawked in amazement and congratulated me.

The most entertaining were the reactions from the so-called 'influencers' like Alexi Rozmajzl and Hannah Palmer, who suddenly started uploading old photos from when they dated me, fishing for attention.

A friend of mine even once overheard Alexi in a nightclub bathroom saying [“You know Kendall Jenner's boyfriend, right? I used to date him.”] and passed the story along to me.

The family's reaction was as level-headed as ever.

And, as always, Aunt Mel was the exception.

When we video-called, she had a cast on her arm — apparently she'd been jumping up and down on her bed yelling [“My little brother is a real celebrity now!!”] and fell right off.

So quintessentially Aunt Mel that all I could do was laugh hollowly.

After spending about two days with Kendall following the Super Bowl, I came back down to Georgia and got back to preparing for the Combine.

“Yellow!!”

“….”

The person helping me train right now is Tim Jenkins, the academy's founder.

He played quarterback at D2 Fort Lewis, and — rare for a D2 product — received an invitation to the NFL Super Regional Combine, signed with the Rams, and took part in training camp.

Unfortunately, he was cut and never got to play in the NFL, spending his career in the CFL instead — but in the end, it turned out to be the better deal.

Because ten years after founding the place, he's now a CEO with academies in eleven regions across the country.

Living proof that bad things don't always lead to bad outcomes, you might say.

Why refusing to give up matters so much.

Look at Tim Jenkins and you'll understand.

“Red!!”

“….”

“Niiiice.”

“How was that?”

“Could make it a little harder.”

“Let's do it.”

“Absolutely. Take five and rest up.”

“Yes, Sir.”

A quarterback's job demands more than one or two essential qualities, and among them is the ability to deliver an accurate pass to the right target without being rattled by all manner of external noise.

That's an area NFL teams watch especially closely, so that's what I'm focused on right now.

Several nets stand at ranges of ten to twenty yards around me, and when a light flickers on in one of them, I have to get a pass into the net Tim Jenkins calls out within two seconds. That's the core of the drill.

He'd warned me early on — [“Nobody even makes half of these at first.”] — but after fumbling the first one or two, I've been dropping every pass squarely into the correct net.

Tim and another coach went to adjust the net distances, and in the meantime I pulled out a banana and ate it with some perfectly smooth peanut butter to recharge.

Sometimes I dip it in Nutella instead — depends on my mood that day.

“So what's she like?”

“Come on.”

“Damn— Kendall Jenner.”

“Yup. That legendary boyfriend would be me.”

“Haha. You're living the exact life every guy dreams of.”

“America.”

“Hm?”

American guys, to be precise.”

“Is that so?”

Since the relationship went public, the number of people cursing me out has grown nearly as fast as the number offering congratulations.

So I just respond with a mental 'Bless U.'

Truthfully, I'm not really responding at all — I just toss that one line out in my head and move on.

It'll die down with time.

Right?

“Date again this weekend?”

“Nope. After the Combine.”

“Oh, how considerate of you.”

“Mm— it's less that than we're just busy. Not me — my girlfriend.”

“Wow. That one right there is kind of insane.”

“I know.”

The look Tim had just given me was one I'd seen to the point of nausea over the past few days.

All I did was call my girlfriend my girlfriend, and the guys went wild — [“That's insane.”] [“Say it again! Say it again!”]

I'll swear this on my life: we men will never shed our inner child, even at ninety.

Not that I have any intention of shedding it.

It's fun. So what?

Am I wrong?

“Let's Go. Roll out again.”

“Hustle&Grind?”

“Yep.”

The catchphrase I've adopted as my motto lately is the Grind Lifestyle.

It's a dated expression, sure, but everything happening around me lately has been telling me, with a bow of the head, to keep grinding away each and every day for the sake of my life.

Maybe not something as grandiose as More than Athletic, but it's clear the level needs to rise.

Because the stage I'm about to belong to is the NFL.

Time to raise my baseline.

“Blue!!”

“easy.”

Thwip—

“WHOO—!! DAMN!! I'm really good at this, aren't I!!”

“Haha.”

My mood climbing by the minute, it seemed my body was finally warming up.

#. February 21, 2023

#-1. Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania, USA

#-2. Pittsburgh Steelers Front Office

#-3. General Manager's Office

The NFL Draft is the biggest event in the country, but for the thirty-two franchises it's a day on which their futures hang.

And some free agents find themselves affected by the draft as well, because demand for their positions swings wildly depending on which position is rated most highly in that year's class.

This year, it was even clearer.

Quarterback.

With a heavyweight free agent named Lamar Jackson on the market and a 2023 rookie class being called the richest quarterback class in history, the movements of agencies and teams circling the quarterback position were more cautious than ever.

-That's absurd.

“Rejecting it before you've even considered it?”

-No, it's just… we don't need Kenny.

“Please. That Mac Jones is woefully inadequate — I know it, the whole world knows it. And so do you. Surely you're not about to deny it?”

-….

Silence over the phone line.

Omar Khan chose to interpret it positively.

Since the season ended, Pittsburgh had received trade inquiries from eight teams.

The name dangled on the block was Kenny Pickett, the Pittsburgh-native hometown quarterback the team had drafted 20th overall last year.

With the pick of Dwayne Moi Stone considered a 100% certainty, the other teams reasoned that a first-round quarterback selected just one year prior would no longer be necessary.

A perfectly reasonable, correct inference.

In fact, Pittsburgh had already concluded that some team would absolutely need a quarterback after the draft, and was planning to trade Kenny Pickett in April.

As it happened, ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠there was an easy mark to bamboozle in New York, so they'd viewed the prospect favorably — but recently, word suddenly came that Aaron Rodgers might play for the Jets.

According to separately gathered intelligence, Rodgers himself was willing to play there, making a trade highly likely.

So Omar Khan decided on a major strategic revision and chose New England, where the quarterback situation was weak, as his target.

Just as expected, Matt Groh — who did not have 100% faith in Mac Jones — was wavering.

-What exactly are the terms?

“Kenny Pickett. We'll throw in a 2024 second-rounder and a fifth. In exchange, you give us this year's first-round pick. Come on, Matt. This is a very good offer.”

Back when TFM was in full swing last year, Omar Khan had steadily, deliberately leaked a certain narrative to the media.

Namely: [“Worried about whether Kenny Pickett can win as a starter, Pittsburgh keeps using Mitchell Trubisky despite Kenny's overwhelming performances in practice.”]

It was planned with the post–Dwayne Moi Stone era in mind, and thanks to it, the public had come to imagine [“So Kenny Pickett must actually be pretty good?”]

Of course, no NFL insider took it at face value — but as time and articles piled up, even they found themselves involuntarily thinking, [“Well… maybe?”]

As a result, Kenny Pickett is currently regarded among league insiders as something like a lottery ticket with favorable odds.

-How much time do I have?

“Two days. I'll give you two.”

-I'll discuss it and get back to you.

“Don't let this opportunity slip away.”

-Ah. And one more thing.

“?”

-Would you by any chance trade the number one pi—

Click.

The instant the man started asking him to give up the first overall pick, Omar Khan pressed the button and ended the call.

It was the same question all eight teams had asked when they phoned before, and the Steelers GM, with no patience for nonsense, had been answering by hanging up.

Holding his coffee cup, Omar found it empty, rose from his seat, and walked over to the capsule machine.

After setting the cup beneath the spout, he turned back around and approached the whiteboard.

Two words written on it.

“…Pick Georgia.”

With the entire draft swallowed up by Dwayne Moi Stone, Georgia tends to draw comparatively less attention — but this year, too, the Bulldogs are set to send a slew of players to the pros on draft day one.

Jalen Carter (DT).

Peter Skoronski (OG).

Broderick Jones (OT).

Jordan Addison (WR), among others.

Nolan Smith, despite lingering size concerns, is a linebacker who'll be off the board by the second round at the latest.

Beyond them, this year's Georgia graduates include plenty of players at positions Pittsburgh desperately needs — cornerback Kelee Ringo and tight end Darnell Washington are also exactly the players the Steelers want right now.

Those two, though, could be had in later rounds, so if the trade goes through, the plan is to take Broderick Jones — the left tackle who protected Dwayne Moi Stone's blind side at Georgia.

Pick Georgia.

The Steelers' draft plan this year is crystal clear.

#. February 25, 2023

#-1. Maui, Hawaii, USA

#-2. Paia

I'd just arrived in Hawaii, wanting to see my family before heading to the Combine.

Right now, I'm eating a late lunch.

My eternal soul food.

Home cooking.

The reason I'm eating at the house instead of the restaurant is the tourists — ever since the article about Kendall and me ran, the customer count has grown fivefold, apparently.

Somehow our place has become a sightseeing course.

I saw it earlier too — the line stretched incredibly long.

I didn't want to burden Mom and the restaurant staff when they're already run ragged, so here I am, eating at home.

“Ugh—! I'm stuffed.”

Patting my full belly lightly with my palm, I gathered the dirty dishes and took my place at the sink.

“Move. I've got this.”

“I can do it.”

“Nope. You're a precious commodity right now, you know?”

“Don't tell me that's because of my girlfriend?”

“Of course not! The Combine!”

Having ceded the sink to Aunt Mel, I dragged a chair over and settled in behind her.

Her long hair had been cut very short.

Nothing special behind it.

It simply got in the way of working at the restaurant.

“Holding up okay?”

“Yeah. The customers are nice.”

“Seems like there are more employees than last month?”

“Five more. After the article came out, everyone kept collapsing from the strain. So I hired extra staff and gave them more break time. Keeping their pay the same, too.”

“Our mother is an angel, I'm telling you.”

“As if anyone would argue.”

Watching my short-haired aunt wash dishes with the sunlight pouring straight onto her, an old memory surfaced.

Back then, that was exactly Mom's style.

It felt like turning back the clock.

“Has Mom decided?”

“Not yet. But she seems a lot more positive than before.”

“Well, it's only been a few months.”

“You know your mother. She loves this place so, so, so much.”

“…I know. So do we.”

“Haha. Yeah. Who could hate Hawaii?”

That's exactly my point.

Is there anywhere in the world as good as here?

Anyway.

Mom is still mulling over my proposal.

That is, that we all live together.

Close the shop during football season only, come to the mainland, travel with Dad a bit, come watch my games — but after working nonstop for over twenty years, it seems genuinely hard for her to let go.

She was disowned for marrying Dad, and built a new family and new friends here.

So I understand why it's that much harder.

Still — I really hope she comes with us.

“Hey.”

“Yeah?”

“Does she treat you well?”

“What do you mean by that?”

“You know exactly what I mean.”

“….”

I wanted to hug my aunt tight — the one who worries about me every single time we talk — so I got up from my chair.

“You know I love you, right?”

“Of course.”

“She's way better than the media makes her out to be.”

“The media exaggerates. It's what they do.”

“Yeah. Someday, I really want to show you.”

“Want to? I'm dying to meet her myself. Good lord — Kendall Jenner. Our nephew's become a truly remarkable man, hasn't he?”

“Oh, come on.”

“Haha. Just kidding.”

Releasing the hug, I came back to my seat and watched her as she started making dessert for me.

Is she seeing anyone these days?

She really deserves someone good.

“Actually….”

“Oh— Shut up. Seriously?!”

“Shh. It's a secret.”

“DAMN—! Who's the lucky one?!”

“Later. I'll tell you when it gets more serious.”

“Wow—! You're serious about this, aren't you? Right?”

“Yeah.”

The smile Aunt Mel was wearing right now.

Because of that smile, I felt happy.

Because I know it's the kind of expression only a woman can wear — one who is treated properly, and loved properly, by a man.

Yes—

Good for you.

“You know what? The news I just heard is the best of every piece of news I've gotten in the last three years.”

“You're loud. Here, eat this.”

“Yes, Sir.”

Taking a spoonful of açaí bowl with a happy heart, I told her about the Grind Lifestyle I'd been thinking about lately too.

And then my aunt, astonishingly —

No.

Perhaps uniquely in the whole world — gave me exactly the answer I'd half-suspected she would.

“It's because of your girlfriend, isn't it. Right?”

“Yep. See, Aunt Mel just knows.”

“Well— look at all the time we spent raising you.”

Right now, I am Kendall Jenner's boyfriend.

Sooner or later, I want to flip that around.

So that Kendall is my girlfriend.

Thinking of Tom Brady and his ex-wife Gisele Bündchen, it might be impossible — but in the sense that my girlfriend has become ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠my motivation, it's clearly a plus.

“A man who becomes better for a woman. Classy.”

“That's what I was raised watching my whole life, so.”

“Fair. Our nephew is pretty cool, isn't he.”

“Do you normally say things like that?”

“Are you crazy? Absolutely not.”

“Hahaha.”

“Haha.”

Ah—

Stopping by here for a little while was truly the right call.

All the world's worries are melting away.

Not that I worry much to begin with.

Taking life with ease ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠no matter what happens is a trait common to Hawaii's people — ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠the so-called 'Aloha spirit.'

“Do we have a ukulele?”

“Gonna sing?”

“Feel like I owe a song.”

“It's been forever since I heard you sing. I'll go get it right now.”

“Please do.”

While my aunt was gone, I finished off the açaí bowl, rinsed my mouth with water, and cleared my throat.

Ahem.

Hm.

“Ready?”

“Yes—! Go for it.”

Whenever I sing this song, the same thought always comes to me.

That I'm proud to be Hawaiian. Proud to be a Stone.

I Love My Life.

What a blessing it is, to be able to say those words.

#. February 27, 2023

#-1. Maui, Hawaii, USA

#-2. Kahului Airport

The quarterback portion of the Combine doesn't begin until tomorrow, but I'm flying out to Indiana a day early to have dinner with my friends.

The linemen and the defensive guys have already started their Combine, so I figured I'd hear a little about how it's going.

“What on earth are you buying?”

“These.”

“Cookies, chocolate. Moi. Just have them ship it.”

“These are for my friends, though?”

“Ah—”

“How much is all of this?”

Having generously stocked up on chocolates made with Hawaiian macadamia nuts and the pineapple-shaped cookies known as 'Honolulu Cookies,' I pulled out a gift I'd bought for Aunt Mel.

A necklace I picked up yesterday on a trip over to Oahu.

“It's so pretty. I'll take good care of it.”

“Make sure you brag about it to your boyfriend.”

“Naturally, I will.”

“Haha.”

Stepping out of the gift shop, I walked over to where my family was waiting.

“For your friends?”

“Yes, Mom. Dad?”

“The Steelers, of all teams….”

“Please. You're still doing this?”

“The Raiders made a foolish choice.”

“Seems they just didn't want me.”

“Hoo—”

Half in jest and half in earnest, Dad is less than thrilled at the strong likelihood of me heading to Pittsburgh.

Because Pittsburgh forged the fiercest rivalry of the seventies with the Raiders.

What's more, while the Raiders have been in decline since 1984, Pittsburgh has risen into the ranks of the NFL's most storied franchises — so a great many Raiders fans genuinely resent it.

After all, few things sting like your old enemy outperforming you while you watch.

Dad has lived his whole life as a Raiders fan, so I completely understand how he feels.

“Well then — I'm off.”

“Take care.”

“Call us when you land.”

“You know it. You're a precious commodity, you know?”

“My ears are going to fall off. I'm going now.”

“WE LOVE YOU!!”

“ME TOO!!!”

Unable to wave with both hands full, I answered with a bright smile instead and made my way to the boarding gate to join the line.

“Um, excuse me….”

“?”

“Dwayne Moi Stone? That's you, right?”

“Yes, Sir.”

“Oh, my goodness. Could I get your autograph?”

“Are you boarding this flight?”

“Yes.”

“Then may I do it later, at your seat? As you can see, my hands are like this. I promise I'll sign for you when you come by.”

“Oh — then, a photo?”

“That'll do just fine.”

Click.

The moment one fan recognized me, everyone around started turning to look — but thankfully, the gate opened and spared me the ordeal.

A flight attendant mechanically checking tickets did a double take when she saw me, then froze up completely, leaving me no choice but to say this:

“Excuse me — could you hand me back my ticket?”

“Yes? Ah, yes. Of— of course.”

“Thank you very much.”

A little later, inside the plane.

A small autograph session broke out.

“Kendall Jenner's boyfriend. Right?”

“…Yup.”

Well, well. I really do have a knack for lighting people on fire.