I was the kid who had one job on the team: kick the field goals. Through two seasons of football, I had a record of 12/1 and missed breaking the state record for longest field goal on the one I missed by inches. The one I missed, the kick had the leg; it just veered right. Neither the miss nor the loss that night came as a surprise to anyone.

My nickname of ‘Mr. Automatic’ died that night last year, which was bound to happen at some point, so it wasn’t heartbreaking or anything like that—yet.