Jim Brown

My day was finally over. A tiring Thursday afternoon; four straight classes followed by a nice workout at the Golden Dome. I took a shower in the locker room, put my school clothes back on and started my walk back to the train station . . . .

School was getting pretty overwhelming, and with summer a few weeks away, I had established a serious case of the similarities to "Senioritis." School was stressful and I couldn't wait until my exams were over so I could enjoy my summer. Well, at least I didn't have school for the next three days, so I just wanted to get on this damn train and go home.

I made it to the train station. I reached into my back pocket for my wallet; "Fuck, no ticket." I took some money and change out of my wallet, and as I put the money into the machine, a gentleman appeared behind my left shoulder.

I always have the same experiences with homeless people in Newark. I hear some bullshit story, which, most of the time, makes absolutely no sense and has no correlation to anything relevant in life, and get begged for some money. I don't mean to make myself seem like such a great person, but a majority of the time I give the person some change. Usually, I'll buy them a dollar nutrition bar at the concession stand in the train station, just so I am sure that they won't use my dollar to buy any drugs.

I forget the story he threw at me. Maybe something similar to, "I need some money for a train ticket home." I don't remember, but I think I didn't pay attention to him, to be honest. I acted like he was inexistent.

He tapped my shoulder, and when I turned around, he said, "Who's Peterson?" I knew exactly what he was talking about. I was wearing my Adrian Peterson Vikings jersey. I went on to explain to him who he was, and how he was the best running back, maybe the best football player in the NFL at the time. He was amazed and kept asking me questions about AP, he wanted to know more. You could tell he was so interested in every verb and adjective I used to describe AP and how fierce, hard and elusive he was as a running back.

Then, it was his turn to talk. He asked me if I've ever heard of Jim Brown. I told him yes, but I obviously never watched him play. The man spoke about Jim Brown as if he was a God; he even told me he was "hands down the best football player" he's ever seen. The man knew so much information about Jim Brown. For example, he told me where he went to college, how many rushing yards he had in his career, how many touchdowns, etc. The man's eyes were huge and bright, as if he was reminiscing back on the good old days.

The train pulled up, and I told him I'm sorry, but I didn't have any money for him. He seemed not to care, I could tell our conversation meant much more to him than one dollar. He thanked me, blessed me and told me God is watching me and has my back. That man taught me a valuable lesson that day. I understood to keep my ears and eyes open more. Just because the man was homeless, doesn't mean I should make assumptions and think he was such a terrible and worthless person.