As a Division-1 soccer player, every year countless high school players would visit our college on recruiting trips. Throughout the weekend, us current players’ responsibilities comprised touring the students around campus, supervising their activities, and providing them with a sense of a student-athlete’s life. We habitually played games Fridays and Sundays with Mondays off. Consequently, we would drink Sunday nights.
One weekend we were so fortunate as to only have a game Friday night. My roommate and I had an exceptionally privileged recruit, as she was able to experience our always-amusing-raucous-nighttime-activities on a Friday night. She had to return home the following day. We won the game, my parents were exceedingly exultant and proud, and treated us (recruit included) to dinner, afterwards procuring alcohol for our underage selves.
That night, one of our older teammates had people to her house to celebrate. Those people consisted of the entire team and some extended friends. Recruit got drunk. I hadn’t overseen her alcohol consumption. After mumbling she might regurgitate dinner, I assisted Recruit outside. I had no desire to witness Mexican food vomit. Yet, I did witness it, as she promptly collapsed on the sidewalk and retched into the street.
With some baseball team support, I transported her home, and trailed behind as three baseball players hoisted her over their shoulders and carried her to my dorm room. As she was non-responsive, I checked throughout the night to ensure she was breathing.
The following morning, I awoke Recruit to attend breakfast with the coach, who would then drive her to the airport for her flight home.
Coach called a team meeting that evening. Recruit had thrown up in Coach’s car on the way to the airport. Twice. Coach verbally scathed us, iterating recruits do drink on recruiting trips, but never should they get so drunk they’re hung over the next day. She then declared she knew someone on the team bought Recruit the alcohol, as she was still in high school. Of course, a teammate wasn’t to blame for the alcohol purchase. It was my dad.