Saturday Drew

Drew knew he should be drinking water, not beer, but this didn’t stop him from smiling after the first big gulps from his Darkside Imperial Belgian Stout.  Even Master Yoda would enjoy this Darkside, he thought, as the beer’s deep flavors lingered in his mouth, the subtle bit of dark chocolate taste.

He was the first of his Casa soccer team to arrive at Kraftwork, their usual destination after Saturday games. 

A girl on the other side of the bar reminded him of one he dated during college, and he wondered what he’d be doing right now if things had worked out differently.  Not with the girl, but with soccer, if he’d kept at it.  

It’s not the lure of playing before a crowd or seeing his name in lights, that’s not the part that mattered to him, not what he feels he missed.  It’s just about whether he could’ve been better, could’ve fulfilled his promise.

Stop all the second guessing, he told himself after a long swig from his beer.  It’s so easy to blame the present on the past, to fixate on irreversible decisions while today’s clock ticks.

A couple of guys from Drew’s team arrived together and he ordered a round.  What may have been will remain unknown, but the beer tasted good after a game.

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