During his first freshman year game, I watched my brother Xavier make his first pass as a high school quarterback. It seems like it was only yesterday in my eyes — with high hopes and a future in football. I heard another player’s mom say he could ‘‘throw a country mile long, but doesn’t have a clue what he’s doing.’’ But she was wrong about Xavier. He could throw far and strong, but he also knew the game better than anyone, sometimes better than coaches. He has always been so much more than just a football player—he’s my role model. I’ve watched him overcome a multitude of people not believing in him. Not believing he could become a great player, not believing he could go from a fourth string quarterback to the starter on varsity his senior year. They didn’t believe he could play college football because he was too slow or too small.

Sometimes he didn’t believe in himself, and that was what broke my heart. I saw him grow through teammates and ignorant coaches. Every morning in the summer for four years he went to Performance Course (a work out program for athletes), pushed through the sweltering days and somehow still managed to be dedicated to a sport that sometimes drove him mad. I looked up to that passion he had for the game. When he began his junior football season, I saw a change in him. He faced another competition with more obstacles ahead. The difference was that he finally believed in himself—he was confident in his abilities as an athlete, football player and leader. He had teammates to hold him up. Still, he was told he could never play college football. He was too small. He wasn’t fast enough. He wasn’t strong enough. But his naysayers didn’t know his inner strength, not the way I had since I was a little girl. In my eyes, Xavier’s ability to pull through the worst situations is what made him the best player. Seeing him pull himself and his teammates up when they’re on the ground feeling defeated is what kept me constantly looking up to him.

Though his senior season was rough and somewhat less than ideal, Xavier made it through and found more strength. He found more motivation. He is not a perfect quarterback, for all athletes have their flaws and mistakes. But each time he was knocked down, he got back up ready for whatever came next.In January, his dream since he was a child came true.The day he left for his overnight visit, he smiled at me and walked to the car. I felt like I was watching the guy who played school with me grow up all over again.When I got home from another long day at work the next afternoon on the counter was a letter from the head coach at Austin College, giving him an offer to play for them. My heart filled with joy, and I recalled all the crazy times he had with football through the years. A tear slipped down my face and I knew he was going to be just fine. We all know he’s not going to go play in the NFL, but throughout all his crazy high school years, a part of me always knew he was destined to make it somewhere where he could do what he loves most. He certainly has not been perfect throughout all four years of high school. He’s driven me crazy and sometimes caught me off guard with the stupid things he says. But none of that outweighs the numerous times he’s made me laugh when I was crying or when he’d go out of his way to make a bad day good. Over the past four years, I have watched my role model go through some hard times, but he’s always found a way out. I’m constantly amazed by his passion for football, to prove people wrong. It was his hard work and determination that has me aspiring to be like him. I don’t know what I’m going to do without our late night runs to Whataburger. I don’t know what I’m going to do not having someone to constantly rant to over petty things and who is going to laugh at my terrible jokes. However, I know wherever he goes, he’s going to do great things, and I’ll always be his number one fan. Xavier is not just a quarterback—he’s a leader, a fighter and most of all, my big brother.