Chapter 13

I spent the rest of Tuesday and all day Wednesday getting my condo opened to live in for the next six months and getting packed and ready for training camp. I reported to the California Lutheran University’s New West dorm complex, a half mile from Rams Park at 7:30 AM on July 29th.

A call of “Hey, Andrew’s here!” greeted me as I hopped out of my car. “Hey, Chris. Good to see you,” I called out as I waved to my friend and our TE3 on the team.

I grabbed my bags and followed Chris inside the dorm. We gathered with ten to fifteen other players as we waited to check in with the Rams staff. Barry Lee Smith and Mike Keller joined Chris and me was we waited. Jay Nicholson showed up a few minutes after me.

“Andy, I hear you have a girlfriend,” Jay exclaimed as we shook hands. My other friends’ ears perked up at the noise.

“Andrew has a girlfriend?” Barry Lee and Chris echoed.

“Hot for teacher, huh?” Chris teased as he jabbed his elbow against my ribs. “You get after your son’s teacher like you wanted to after OTAs?”

“No, I met up with a high school ... well, middle and high school sweetheart at a high school reunion,” I answered.

“She know you have kids?” Barry Lee asked.

“Yes, she knows,” I answered. “As a matter of fact, she held the boys the day they were born.”

“You’re not getting together with the twins’ mother, are you?” Chris asked.

“I ran into the twins’ mother a month ago, but no, I am not dating her,” I answered. “Crystal has a third kid now and fourth on the way. She is happily married and living in New Orleans.”

“So give, who is she?” Barry Lee asked.

“Heather Miller,” I said. “We have a long history. We shared our first kiss together. We tried second base together for the first time. That got my face slapped. Too much, too soon. I was her first lover too. She is amazing.”

“Cool!” Chris said. “I’m glad you found someone. Do you think this relationship is serious?”

“I think so,” I replied. “We are working on how to make this long term.”

“Keller, you are rooming with Martin this camp.” All of us turned to see Mike Keller standing beside the check-in table as a team admin handed Mike his room keys and check-in packet.

“Looks like we’re together, Andrew,” Mike commented, looking back at me. “I hope that’s cool.”

“It’s fine,” I said. “Do you snore?”

“I’ve been known to,” Mike admitted.

“Good, I can use the ear plugs I brought, just in case,” I said.

“Is that an implication that I snore, Martin?” Barry Lee teased. We had roomed together last training camp. “I do not snore!”

“Yes, you do!” Chris and I both insisted. Chris had shared a room with Barry Lee on a couple road games.

“You make quite a racket for a little guy,” I added.

“Martin, let’s get you set too,” the admin suggested. He handed over my room key and a check-in packet. The packet was marked Room 210.

“We’ll see you guys later this morning,” I said as Barry Lee stepped up to table to register. Mike and I headed for the stairs and climbed up a level to our room. Our suite had two bedrooms with a two single beds in each room. We had a bathroom and a shared living room. Most important from our perspective, the suite had air conditioning.

Mike and I unpacked our luggage and then followed the crowd up the hill to Rams Park. We passed some administrative buildings on the way and the university’s athletic facilities. Our new training facility, which we were seeing for the first time, was an expansive series of modular classrooms, brought onto the site and erected quickly, between last March and now.

We had a 9:00 AM “all-hands” team meeting. Coach Tolbert welcomed all of us to the Rams training camp. He laid out the ground rules. The most important ones – curfew was at 11:00 PM and no leaving the Rams Park/University area. The Déjà Vu Showgirls place down the street was off limits.

The bulk of the first day was spent with the medical and training staff. The doctors needed to certify us as healthy and fully prepared for the rigors of a professional football season. The training staff needed to evaluate our fitness.

I pride myself on taking care of my body and working out fanatically. I learned last summer that physically fit and football fit were two very different things. I was playing the NFL against the biggest, fastest, most aggressive and smartest football players in the country. When they hit you, they hit you like a freight train. My two take-aways from last season’s training camp were: I was always tired and always, always, always sore from the hitting. I could work out all I wanted, and I still couldn’t duplicate the NFL hitting until we got to camp.

Exams and physical testing took up the majority of the day. Team meetings, offensive meetings, wide receiver meetings and special teams meetings filled the remainder of the day. All meals were in the Rams Park cafeteria. The food was excellent and very healthy for us.

Our first day was long, though not physically taxing. Mike and I were glad to get to bed at 10:00 PM. Every player needed to do their personal workouts sometime each day. Since our schedules were tightly booked between 7:00 AM breakfast and our 10:00 PM dismissal, everyone needed to get up before breakfast and get their personal workouts done early. Mike and I set our alarms for 5:15 AM.

Saturday and Sunday, Day 2 and 3 respectively of our training camp were no pads, no hitting days. We had instruction periods inside after breakfast until 10:30 AM. We did a full speed, no hitting practice from 10: 30 AM to 1:30 PM. After lunch we were back inside to watch every megabyte of video shot of the morning’s practice, so our coaches could correct our mistakes. We went back out at 4:00 PM for an hour of walk through practice. After dinner, we spent time reviewing the film of our afternoon practice.

The coaches did allow us a little breathing space during the day. Every rookie on the team was required to sing his college’s alma mater after dinner on either Day 2 or 3. I zinged Jay Nicholson good on that one. I insisted he had to help Ryan Maguire sing Penn State’s alma mater, since he spent three years at Penn State. The next evening other team members insisted on hearing Jay sing the James Madison alma mater.

Jay dutifully sang JMU’s alma mater before heading back to the table beside mine. “I’m gonna get you, Andy,” he teased. He stared at me for a second and lost his smile. “No, forget that. The singing is all in fun. It’s just a part team building.” Jay sat down among some of the other rookies. They quietly questioned Jay about backing down.

“No way in hell I’m pranking a Martin,” Jay responded. “Been there, done that. That family goes nuclear if you fool with them.” I didn’t mind living off my brother’s reputation if it meant I didn’t get pranked as often. The coaches called for dinner to break and for everyone to head to their offensive or defensive meetings.

Barry Lee, Chris, Mike, Clay Wicks, our starting tight end and Taylor Woods, QB3 overheard Jay talk about pranking. They questioned me about what Jay meant. I told them about the time a good part of the Penn State team “converted” my brother into a linebacker for a couple weeks and then the devious ways my brother found to pay back each and every one who pranked him.

“Kyle really got a report put on ESPN saying that the Jets were going to draft Aaron Morano?” Taylor asked, amazed at the breadth of my brother’s efforts at revenge.

“That part was serendipity,” I answered. “Kyle never figured out who leaked his rumor to ESPN. All Kyle did is line up a guy to impersonate a Jets official and talk with Aaron.”

“Andy, how did Kyle get the toothpaste into my Tiger Balm tube?” Jay asked as he squeezed in among my friends.

“Toothpaste in your tube of balm?” Mike asked. Jay nodded yes.

“Trade secret,” I answered to Jay’s original query. I laughed. “Look at it this way, Jay. Kyle could have put your Tiger Balm in your toothpaste tube. I guess it was good you were considered a friend and not an enemy.”

“Yuch,” Jay spat out. “I guess it is good Kyle’s a friend.”

Day 4 brought the first padded practice. God, NFL players can hit hard. Everyone was mentally and physically exhausted when Coach Tolbert finally dismissed us at 9:45 that evening. Mike and I trudged down the road to our room, cleaned up and collapsed into bed. We never heard they guy who did bed checks. We were dead to the world by 11:00 PM.

The Rams designated a certain number of players each day to meet with the public and do autographs. Day 5 was my first day. I spent nearly thirty minutes outside after practice talking with fans and signing programs, papers, autograph books, T-shirts and towels. My philosophy on autographs mirrored Kyle’s. If these people could spend a morning outside in this 90 degree heat watching us and then pay good money for tickets to our games, I could at least sign whatever they had for me.

It turned out I had to pass on one item. A gorgeous girl wearing a skimpy bikini offered me a Sharpie and asked me to autograph her tit.

“Sorry, I have a serious girlfriend in Pennsylvania,” I said. I pointed towards the crowd of photographers and reporters recording players interacting with the fans. “I don’t want one of them taking a photo of me doing your autograph that potentially could appear back home where my girlfriend will see it. Do you have anything else I could autograph?”

The best she could offer me was her hand. I autographed it and then gallantly gave her a kiss on the hand. She seemed pleased. I felt relieved. I turned out I was fortunate.

I made a point of calling Heather each day during lunch, just so we could talk for a couple minutes. Day 6 Heather asked, “The Rams Bleacher Report had a picture of you kissing a scantily clad lady on the hand. Is this something I need to worry about?” she teased.

“No,” I responded. “The real story is the girl wanted me to autograph her tit. I signed her hand instead. The kiss was just a gentleman’s way of letting the girl down easily.”

“Her tit?” Heather asked. “Are you joking?” I could hear Heather’s co-workers in the background asking, “Her tit?”

“I am not joking,” I answered. “You don’t need to worry about me. I’m too exhausted from training camp to take advantage of whatever she might have had in mind. We work for seventeen hours during the day. My roommate, Mike, and I are so exhausted at the end of the day that we collapse into bed and fall asleep before the 11:00 PM bed check comes through.

“Take care of yourself, honey,” Heather said.

“Are you still on to come out for Labor Day weekend?” I asked.

“Steve ... that’s Mr. Segal, gave me all of Friday off,” Heather answered. “He’s going to call his architect friend in Los Angeles and suggested I stop by his studio for a visit while I am out there.”

“Cool!” I said. “That is excellent. I got to go. I have a receiver’s meeting in a couple minutes.”

“I love you, Andy,” Heather said.

“I love you too, Heather,” I replied. I headed off to my next meeting.

I made a few minutes each night at the end of dinner to call Noah and Connor and wish them a good night. My call usually hit their house around 7:45 PM, early for their bedtime. It had to do. I was always in a meeting studying film from the afternoon’s practice at their normal bedtime.

Day 8 brought the first change training camp. We bused down to the Coliseum at USC’s campus and played a scrimmage at their field. The scrimmage was open to the public. The first team would play for roughly the first quarter of the game.

I had been running with our Ones all through OTAs and training camp. I felt I was there by default, but that was where the coaches put me, so I played. My half of the team got first possession. Mark Briggs booted the ball to me. I cradled it into my body about two yards into the end zone before running out. My blockers did a great job. I scooted through a hole my blockers made for me and kicked into high gear. I had cleared Mark’s tackle attempt near mid-field when the referee’s whistle blew the play dead. I slowed to a stop and turned to see what was up.

Our offensive coordinator, Coach Davis, announced, “Let’s set the Ones up on the twenty yard line. We have things we need to work on there.”

“Good return, 85,” Coach Croft added. “I am putting that down as a TD.” Coach Croft was our special teams coach. I knew our kick return team would get kudos at the next evaluation. Our kick coverage team would not do as well when they were evaluated.

Coach Tolbert was an old-fashioned coach. He believed the best way to beat your opponent was to knock him down and beat him up. No surprise. He was a member of the ‘85 Bears, a team that gloried in hard-nosed, in your face football. We ran the ball to set up the pass.

Dylan Harris handed off to Marcus Waldron for three straight plays. Marcus scooted ahead for six, three and then nine yards. I watched as our defense slowly shifted closer to the line of scrimmage. We ran a counter sweep next. I blocked my cornerback away, but the play ended far from where we were at. Marcus gained seven yards on the play.

Our defense closed up tighter. They should have known what was next. Dylan took the snap, faked a handoff to Marcus who dove between the left tackle and left guard. Too many defenders, including Joe Stewart, our free safety, dove in to stop Marcus.

I streaked down the sideline, blowing by Donte Rodriguez. Donte pursued me as I sprinted downfield. Dylan casually flicked the ball out to my outside around fifteen yards downfield. I pulled the ball in and kicked into high gear. The only Ram player with any play on me was my friend Barry Lee. He had lined up against Mike Wimberly on the far side of the field. Barry Lee had a bad angle, but he gamely pursued me. He dove at my feet just before I motored into the end zone. I skipped over my buddy and held the ball aloft for the fans. The big crowd gave me an outstanding cheer for my touchdown.

I helped Barry Lee off the ground. “I knew I was in deep shit when Joe bit on that fake.”

“That you were,” I agreed, laughing. “At least you get some brownie points for hustle out of this play.”

“There is that,” Barry Lee agreed as we jogged back to our respective sidelines.

Dylan Harris met me at our sideline. “Good job, Andrew!” Dylan said he gave my backside a swat. “Damn good job! That IS the way to do it.”

I watched as my first-year protégé, Tyler O’Donnell took the kickoff for the other team. Damned, if he didn’t break loose too. The coaches blew his sure touchdown dead around mid-field. The second string offense had work they needed to do too.

Mark Shaeffer, our QB2, had some trouble moving the ball against our Two’s defense. He settled for a 52 yard field goal try that Mark Briggs hooked left slightly. Dylan led the Ones offense to the field again. Marcus was featured on most plays. Dylan hit Chris Cobb for a nice pass down the seam in the defense. I had an eight yard reception to keep our drive going. Marcus thundered into the end zone from twelve yards out when the Twos misjudged the play.

The clock said there was 1:14 left in the first quarter. I knew I was done for the day. I unconsciously switched hats and began coaching up our younger guys, so they could shine when their turn on the field came.

By the time Taylor Wood and the third string offense got on the field, things were a little ragged. I worked with Zach Ponce and Mike Walker, two undrafted rookie free agents, to make sure they were ready when they were on the field.

Jay Nicholson finally got on the field near the end of the third quarter. He had the bottom end of our roster to help him. My friend made the best of the hand he was dealt. He kept his guys organized and ground out yards against a rat-tag defense of undrafted rookie free agents and low draft pick rookies.

On the eighth play of the drive I heard Jay call an audible at the line of scrimmage. I looked over the formation and recognized the play he was running. The audible was correct and a part of the play call. Tyler O’Donnell streaked down the sideline against a clueless, misplaced defense. Jay heaved a forty yard bomb down to Tyler who streaked into the end zone untouched.

I was impressed. Jay had really put in the time studying the playbook to know that audible. He demonstrated his arm strength and accuracy to. His pass to Tyler was pin point even though it wasn’t necessary. The nearest defender was fifteen yards away from Tyler when he caught the ball. I saw the coaches talking and laughing as the play unfolded. I doubt they expected Jay to know the audible either.

The big crowd loved the play. They cheered and cheered for Tyler and Jay. I was pleased for my friend too. Jay was going to need to bust his ass to make the team. I was standing near Taylor Wood during the play. Taylor was Jay’s direct competition for the QB3 slot.

“I knew that call,” Taylor sniffed as the crowd cheered Jay. I knew Taylor knew the call. I didn’t comment that he didn’t have the arm to sling a football 40 yards downfield to actually make the play. Would our coaches go for the safe QB who knew the playbook best but couldn’t make all the throws or go for the one with more arm strength but less knowledge of the Rams’ offense? All any of us could do is watch Taylor and Jay worked to convince the coaches that he was the correct choice.

Coach Tolbert gave us a free hour after we returned from USC. Half the team took a nap. The remainder, myself included, headed for the training room to rehab our various aches and pains.

An NFL training camp was an incredibly grueling marathon where you constantly fought with the pains from all the hits you took while you tried to learn everything the coaches wanted you to know. I know the old-timers in the NFL think we have it easy with one padded practice a day and a limit of four hours on the field each day. What was it like ten or twenty years ago to do two 2 ½ hour padded practices every day? I shuddered thinking about how that must have felt. Praise be to the 2011 CBA [Collective Bargaining Agreement].

One day blurred into the next as we fought our way through training camp. One highlight in the second week was when some guys on the team (I know nothing, absolutely nothing about it.) punked our first round draft choice, Elijah Armstrong. Elijah was a big defensive tackle I didn’t interact with much. He obviously was talented and looked to be a good addition to our already excellent defensive line.

Elijah purchased a shiny, new Chevy Expedition SUV just before training camp. It was decked out with all the bells and whistles available on the model. Personally, I thought it was ridiculously oversized and way too expensive. I also knew that was my Mennonite heritage speaking. I never met a Mennonite who didn’t acutely know the value of a dollar – and who made a point of saving every dollar he possibly could. I was happy with my three-year-old Honda that I bought to $10K less than the list price for a new Honda.

It was about a quarter to ten in the Tuesday evening when the team migrated back to the dorms to collapse and get some sleep. Elijah spotted his pride and joy sitting up on concrete blocks, the wheels missing. He went apoplectic as he got closer. The SUV was shrink-wrapped in plastic and sported a big sign that announced, “For Sale - $50 or Best Offer.”

Saner heads prevented Elijah from calling the cops to report a theft. Everyone assured Elijah we were sure his tires would show up somewhere. They did. He found them stacked in the bathtub in his room.

I have no knowledge of who did it. I am curious how they managed to pull off a prank like this while everyone was tied up from 7:00 AM to 9:45 PM all day. I suspect some money changed hands and a little outside help was used while we worked that day.

Elijah took the joke in the spirit it was intended – in fun. He threatened revenge. Within days even Elijah was laughing when someone came up to make him a $30 or $40 dollar offer on his SUV. I knew one purpose of training camp and cooping us up in small dorm rooms for three weeks was for us to bond. It seemed to be working.

Thursday brought a welcome change to our routine. We had a two hour walk through practice in the morning. After lunch and a couple meetings we hopped on the team buses and rode the Coliseum. We were hosting the Cleveland Browns that evening in our first preseason game.

Cleveland wasn’t expected to be a big challenge for our starters. They went 4-12 last season. They picked up the hot-shot kid from Miami of Ohio, a local favorite son. The kid, Tavaris Simmons, led the epic upset Miami of Ohio put on Arkansas last January in the Liberty Bowl. It pushed Simmons into the first round and gave his Coach, John Schneider, a chance to step up and coach at West Virginia instead of little Miami of Ohio. My brother, Kyle, knew Coach Schneider and I had met him. He had coached at Penn State before he took over at Miami of Ohio.

Our defense was ready to feast on the young rookie QB. Our offense was scheduled to play 10-15 plays or one series, if we could get the ball moving. Coach Croft told me to relax tonight. I wouldn’t be handling any kick or punt returns. Coach wanted to see what some of the younger guys could do, given the opportunity.

Our team took the ball first. Dylan took control of the offense immediately and drove our team down the field. Marcus Waldron and Billy Harris moved the ball well on the ground. Dylan hit me on a play action pass on third down and two yards to go. Unfortunately, the safety didn’t bite on the fake. I gained twenty-two yards. On the ninth play of the drive, Dylan found Clay Wicks drifting across the back of the end zone. Touchdown! The Ones’ day was done.

Mark Shaeffer and the Twos managed to move the ball on Cleveland, though not as smartly as Dylan and the Ones. Still we led 17-3 at half time. Things got ragged in the third quarter when Taylor and the rookies took the field. The Browns’ QB2, a wily twelve-year veteran, took advantage of our youth and scored three times to give his team a 20-17 lead at the beginning of the fourth quarter.

Jay Nicholson took charge again, same as the previous Saturday at our scrimmage. He rallied his troops and pulled out a 30-27 win. It was another nice performance by my friend. Taylor needed to be concerned whether he would continue with the Rams this fall.

The team spent extra time Friday after the game to review the high and low points of everyone’s performances against Cleveland. After the game review was done it was back to the grind. We had four days of practices, film study and meetings before the next break in our routine.

Monday was a travel day. We flew out to Denver for three days of joint practices followed by our next preseason game. I teased Coach Tolbert as we were flying out that I would be happy to save the team some money and crash at Kyle’s house instead of taking up a hotel room at the team’s expense. Jay and Ryan Maguire volunteered to crash with Kyle too. Needless to say, our plan didn’t get accepted.

The team put us up in the Ramada Englewood, literally at the foot of the local airport. Mike Keller and I could look at the control tower across the street from our room. We could see the guys working in the tower.

The team had dinner at the hotel and then had meetings to fill the evening. We caught buses over to Dove Valley at 6:30 AM, before breakfast. Our team used the Broncos’ weight room before grabbing breakfast at their cafeteria. I assume our coaches worked something out with the Broncos. Their players weren’t around. I knew my brother would be at Dove Valley well before 7:30 in the morning. This was confirmed after breakfast. Our team took the team meeting room while I spotted a few Broncos players heading into smaller rooms nearby. I assumed my brother’s team was meeting by position groups while we did a team meeting. I was surprised when we got to the locker room. Our gear was at lockers marked with our names. Broncos gear was nowhere to be found.

Both teams joined up outside at 10:00 AM for our first joint practice. I spotted Kyle standing with Brady Rasmussen on the field, waiting for things to start. I headed over to join Kyle and Brady. Both gave me big smiles as I approached.

“Good to see you, Andy,” Brady boomed.

“About time you got to work, bro,” Kyle added. I shook hands with Brady and then did a hand clasp, fist bump and shake with my brother, just as we had been doing since I was six and he was eight years old.

I saw a couple more friends from the Broncos team spot our cluster as Kyle and I shook hands. They trotted over to join us. I recognized Charlie Taylor as he gave me a wave. The second was Brendan Hayden. Charlie was the Broncos’ #2 tailback and a college teammate of Kyle’s. Brendan was one of the Broncos’ special teams aces. He was one of the guys I would be trying to dodge as I returned kicks or punts. Brendan graduated from Penn State with Kyle.

I accepted greetings from Charlie and Brendan. Our cluster of Penn Staters quickly attracted Ryan MacGuire and Jay Nicholson. The former teammates exchanged greetings.

“What do you guys think of our facilities?” Kyle asked as he waved his hand towards the big field house behind him.

“New?” I asked.

“We still consider it new,” Charlie said. “We’ve moved in eighteen months ago, just in time to avoid the nasty end of November weather.”

“115,000 square feet of room for our team,” Kyle continued. “We have a full-sized field inside for indoor practices.” Kyle chuckled. “I expect we’ll need them this afternoon.

Jay, Ryan and I stared up at the deep blue, cloudless sky. “Do you really think we’ll need indoor practice today?” Jay asked.

“Not this morning,” Kyle agreed. “They are predicting some nasty thunderstorms for the late afternoon. Our afternoon walk-through could easily be inside.”

“We have a full-sized indoor field at Ram’s Park too,” I said.

“Does yours have a locker room, weight room, hot and cold pools and a training area to work out all the kinks from practices and games,” Kyle said. “We have extra meeting rooms, an extra room for the media. It’s all pretty sweet.”

“I guess that’s why we didn’t see anything of your equipment in the locker room we used this morning.”

“Exactly.” Kyle agreed.

“All right! All Right!” a coach yelled. Everyone turned to Special Teams Coach Brian Kovacevic walking briskly towards the huddle of players. “Enough lolly-gagging. What do you think you are? A bunch of Penn Staters?”

“I am a Delaware grad,” I responded.

“And Kyle’s younger brother,” Coach Kovacevic said. “That makes you an honorary Penn Stater at minimum.”

“I graduated from JMU,” Jay protested.

“And roomed with this reprobate,” Coach Kovacevic teased. “That definitely makes you a Penn Stater, Nicholson.”

“Coach knows Penn Staters pretty well, since he is one himself,” Kyle explained.

“Let’s spend more time warming up for practice and less time jawing,” Coach said. “I don’t want a bunch of people showing up over at the trainers with hamstring injuries.”

“You got it, Coach,” Kyle agreed. “We can talk at lunch.”

We scattered back to our appropriate parts of the field to prepare for our workout. I wondered where Hal Long was. Hal was trying out for kicker with the Broncos. He was a neighbor, close friend of Kyle’s and high school teammate of mine. I had my answer a few minutes later. Four guys came out of the Broncos field house together. As soon as I saw them, I knew they were all kickers or punters. They headed for another part of the field from where the rest of the teams were congregating. Mark Briggs, Matthew Harkins, our punter, and their backups trotted off to join the special teams kicking huddle.

Practice wasn’t radically different from what we did normally, except we were going up against the Broncos first team instead of our second team defense. I had to work hard to get open when we did the seven-on-seven drill. No surprise, the Broncos had an excellent defense.

We went deep on one of the plays. I made a move about ten yards downfield while Dylan Harris pumped the ball. Ruben Glover, the Broncos cornerback, bit hard on the fake. I sprinted downfield, catching Dylan’s pass in stride. The play would have been a touchdown if the coaches hadn’t whistled it dead.

“GOD DAMN IT!” Ruben snapped as I turned to jog back to our huddle. “You learn that move from your brother?”

“No, Kyle and I learned that one from our high school coach,” I answered evenly.

“You’re just as much of a pain in the ass to cover as Coach is,” Ruben added. I took that as a high compliment. Not ten minutes later, during a break in practice, I got the same compliment from my own team.

“I sure got shafted when they picked which team we would practice against this week, Andrew,” Barry Lee Smith commented. “It is bad enough that I have to try to cover you every day. Now how in the hell I am supposed to cover your brother?”

“With a step ladder?” I offered helpfully to my height-challenged friend. Kyle and I were a good six inches taller than my friend.