Anyone who has ever wondered how football players get so big has clearly never tried my mom’s cooking.
Back when I was playing in high school, all of us defensive and offensive linemen would head back to my place after we finished up our morning workouts in the summer. These were some really big guys, and we’d all be completely exhausted and covered in grass stains and sweat — but by the time we got to my street there was always a little giddyup in our steps. That’s because of what was waiting for us: the biggest Southern-style breakfast you’ve ever seen.
Just about every day my mom would prepare this huge meal for us. I’m talking stacks on stacks of pancakes, huge piles of bacon (of course), mounds of eggs and my uncle’s homemade sausage. I wish I could bottle the smell.
Those were the best mornings. Me and my friends just sitting around laughing and stuffing our faces, while my mom looked on with a big smile. People who know me tell me I take a lot from her, including her smile.
This was back in McDonough, Georgia, which is about 30 minutes outside of Atlanta. McDonough has been home to my family for several generations. You could say that we’re pretty country. Me, my mom, my brother, my aunt and my grandma all lived in the house my grandparents had built. Up the street a bit, my cousin and his family also have a house. And a little further up is where my other cousin and his family live. We’re all next to each other on Tomlinson Street, which was named after my great grandfather.
