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The rejection letter represented the only thing Whitney feared--okay that wasn't true---it represented Whitney's only rational fear. His other fear was totally irrational: drowning in the ocean. Whitney wasn't sure why he was afraid of drowning in the ocean because he'd never been to an ocean, never been outside of the Midwest in fact; but he was still scared of it. Ever since he was little he had nightmares about being pulled down in salty water, his lungs filling with it, unable to swim, unable to breathe, drowning in the depths, hopeless and helpless. A completely irrational fear for a kid in Kansas to have, but that was his secret irrational fear. But it was better than the fear that was staring him in the face, better than knowing what scared him the most, above drowning in the ocean, was coming true. Had come true.
Whitney was the star of the football team, captain of the football team; not out of chance or luck, or the fact Smallville was small, but because he was good, he worked hard, he had talent, he loved the game. That's what Whitney had always believed. Whitney studied football the way other people studied literature or art or science. Whitney played football because he loved it and he wanted it. He wanted to play for the Metropolis Sharks, for himself. Not just for because that was what his father wanted for him. Whitney's father hadn't played football, but he'd still lettered in three sports--he was a formidable man, physically strong. He was a man who loved his family and loved his son. Not just loved Whitney but respected him. Whitney loved his father, respected him, wanted his father to be proud of him. But Whitney didn't play football to please his father, to fulfill a dream his father had for him
Whitney believed he was the star of the football team because of his talent, because of his hard work and dedication. He had told himself that if he lived in a bigger town, in Metropolis or Chicago or Gotham or L.A., someplace with a bigger talent pool and more players, he'd still be the captain of his football team; he'd still lead his team to victory. He'd still be a star. Whitney had told himself that recruiter would come, see him, and want him; throw scholarships at him, court him, make offers and counter offers. Whitney had let academics slide, not because he was stupid but because why did he need such high grades when he had football? When he *knew* that he'd go to college on an athletic scholarship, that he'd have his pick of schools. Whitney told himself this his freshman year, his sophomore year, his junior year. Whitney had told himself that until the recruiters didn't come racing to Smallville, he told himself this until the offers didn't come pouring in. Then Whitney had to face his fear. And instead of being courted by many schools Whitney had to go looking for schools; it felt like begging for table scraps. It felt wrong for the star athlete, for the captain of the football team, to do this. Once his father had gotten sick Kansas State had been is first, last, and only choice. Lex Luthor had arranged a tryout, and Whitney felt like he wasn't being measured on his own merit, only looked at because Lex Luthor asked.
And Kansas State hadn't wanted him. There was no scholarship; there was no place on the team. There was no chance to play.
Whitney had always told himself--his freshman year, his sophomore year, his junior year--that he wasn't just a big man on a very small campus; that he was a talented athlete, someone colleges would want. Someone the Metropolis Sharks would want someday. Now his only chance to play for the Sharks had come and gone on a high school field, thanks again to Lex Luthor. And it hadn't been just a chance for his dying father to see his son play out his dream, it had been Whitney's only chance to play out his own dream.
Whitney stared at the letter. He had carried it around, felt it weigh him down, felt it mock him. When he read it he knew all his fears were coming true--he was drowning. Not in salty sea water, but drowning in disappointment, drowning in the unknown, drowning in fear. He really was just a big man on a small campus.