Before Nooksack
1
Before I get to basketball and Creepy Crawley and all that, you need to understand that soccer has always been a religion in my house. In my baby pictures, I'm wearing a Seattle Sounders jersey. My parents stuck me on my first team when I was five. Before matches, my mom always said, "Nate, come back with your shield—or on it." I didn't get it until my sister, Amelia, told me that Caesar said that to his soldiers before battle. "It means, 'Win or die,'" she explained. Mom was smiling, but it wasn't entirely a joke.
My parents hoped that both Amelia and I would score soccer scholarships. A big-time college was their dream, but Southwest Louisiana State, if there is such a school, would work, too. We're not poor, but nobody gets rich owning submarine sandwich shops, which is what my parents do.
Amelia—she's two years older than me—is one of those sisters. Great athlete. A+ student. Swedish Hospital Volunteer of the Year. Blah, blah, blah. At Salmon Bay K-8, teachers' and coaches' eyes lit up when they learned I was Amelia's brother. Once they got to know me, the light dimmed. I'm not a bad student or a bad athlete—I'm just not Amelia.