Do you ever wonder if people think about you?
Not do they care about you, not do they talk to you, do they think about you? I don’t think anyone thinks about me. If they do, I’m not sure why. But recently my mind has wandered, landing in the exact spot. Buffalo Bills tight end Tommy Sweeney has been on my mind.
Tommy and I are nothing more than acquaintances. If I walked up to him on the street and introduced myself he wouldn’t know my name but he’d know my face. He and I would chat for a minute and move on. That’s all. Hopefully, we’d meet again in an NFL locker room.
Still, I remember exactly where his locker was. I remember where most of the Bills were located during the 2019-20 season. Sweeney was in the popular corridor placed four steps from the rarely used bubble hockey table. He was two lockers down from easy quote getter Lee Smith and next to Taron Johnson. Perpendicular were the lockers of Micah Hyde, Tre’Davious White, and Cole Beasley. Lorenzo Alexander, Devin Singletary, Stephen Hauschka all co-existed on the opposite wall. It was busy.
Sweeney didn’t talk on camera much. No one cares about the thoughts of a fourth-string tight end. He’d sit near and listen, always ready to strike up a conversation. I asked him about football sometimes but speaking to the mustachioed, Grateful Dead t-shirt wearing backup wasn’t a great use of my time in a role I was way in over my head for.
In the grand scheme of life, none of this matters. They’re memories of daily interactions I’m likely to forget. It kept life interesting. It’s something I miss.
Two weeks ago I tested positive for Covid-19 alongside my parents. A year already spent inside seeing no one while doing nothing to prevent this seemed wasted. My own insecurities and fears realized. What I assumed was I’d be fine as a relatively healthy 22-year-old. My parents catching it terrified me.
Covid kicked my ass. Ten days spent moving less than I ever have yet lost more weight than ever as well. Weight loss is just one after-effect of this virus. Days spent feeling every heartbeat, getting up resulted in shortness of breath, a cough I couldn’t control. I wasn’t sure I’d go to sleep in the same bed I woke up in.
It led me to the hospital and later my father. Our bodies weren’t fighting the virus. We each received treatment to be injected with Covid antibodies. It saved us. I don’t know why we can’t give this to everyone.
My end results were lucky and my community has been lucky. No one in my family has passed from Covid. My grandparents have been safe. It’s a blessing and my heart goes out to all that have been hurt.
After “beating” the virus I still feel it. My chest gets tight, sometimes my heart rate goes out of whack. But I’m going to live and that’s important.
That’s why I keep thinking of Tommy. Selfishly because I’d like to write a story about him. A fringe-NFL player who bought into an NFL season that others unlike him were able to opt-out of. Now that career is in doubt after a cardiologist discovered he has myocarditis, a heart condition.
Football is cruel. Players' careers are ruthlessly fucked with by their employers and that’s why agents' fees are so high. If Sweeney, a seventh-round pick in 2019, loses his job with the Bills next to no one will care. No one judges a team on the success of its seventh-rounders. Limited resources invested equals limited value.
Top-tier athletics teach oneself to relinquish doubt, ambiguity, and self-inquiry. Many athletes are happy to let their actions speak for them. This self championing one-dimensionality personality tends to lead to instant reward in sports.
Is Tommy Sweeney like this? I don’t know, I’m making generalizations. But I would be scared of my future. I already am. Ambiguity triggers fear.
I want to step back into an NFL locker room. I know I’d do things differently. I know I’d be better. And Tommy wants to be there as well. He’d be talking to teammates, watching the media circus, learning from his mistakes. The ability is there with a weak tight end situation on the Bills. I hope it works out for me and for him. I’ll keep my thoughts open.