Chase Roberts sat on the edge of his bed, staring at the quiet screen of his phone. His fingers hovered above the keyboard, but he couldn’t bring himself to type the words. The decision was made. He had committed to BYU, to the bright lights and packed stadiums, to the roar of the crowd that would soon become the soundtrack to his life. Yet, the second decision—whether to declare for the NFL draft—hung like a shadow over his thoughts, just out of reach.
He had already chosen the path that would lead him through the gates of Provo, Utah. He could picture it clearly in his mind: the rush of adrenaline in LaVell Edwards Stadium, the crisp mountain air, and the intensity of the Cougar fanbase. Every visit, every conversation, had led him here. The weight of his commitment felt heavy, but it was the next choice, the NFL one, that twisted in his gut.
Chase leaned back, running a hand through his messy hair. His eyes flicked to the small pile of game tapes on the desk. He had watched them all—every touchdown, every clutch catch, every sprint down the field—but something was missing. It wasn’t the physical ability. He knew that he had what it took to make the jump to the pros. His stats were solid, his athleticism undeniable. But it wasn’t just about the game. It was about timing. About whether his body was ready, whether his mind was settled enough to handle the grind of a professional career.
It was also about legacy. He had already seen the sacrifices his family had made for him to get this far, to reach the level where his name could be remembered. His father, an old college star, had pushed him, taught him, and shaped him into the player he was today. But there was always a question in the back of his mind: What would it mean to make this jump? What would it cost him, personally and professionally?
BYU was a good school, a historic program, but the NFL was a different beast altogether. He could feel the weight of the decision pressing in on him, suffocating him. But he wasn’t ready. Not yet. He needed more time to think, to watch his game film once more, to look at every angle, to feel whether he was truly prepared.
The door to his room creaked open, and his sister’s voice broke the silence. “You’re still at it, huh?”
He glanced up, half-smiling. “Yeah. Just thinking.”
She stepped in, her presence a grounding force in the chaos of his mind. “About the draft?” she asked, already knowing the answer.
Chase nodded, rubbing his temples. “I’ve made my choice about BYU, but the NFL… it’s big. I need to be sure.”
She sat beside him, looking at the pile of tapes. “You’ve put in the work. You’ve proven what you can do. The draft is just the next step. But you’ve always had the power to decide when you’re ready.”
He looked at her, surprised by the clarity of her words. His sister always had a way of seeing through the fog that clouded his judgment. Maybe that was the answer he was looking for: readiness wasn’t just about the game. It was about feeling it inside, knowing when he had nothing left to prove to anyone but himself.
“I guess I just need to trust my gut, huh?” he said quietly.
She grinned. “Exactly.”
Chase sat up straighter, his gaze drifting toward the window, where the sun was setting behind the distant mountains. The path ahead wasn’t clear, but maybe that was the point. It was his to carve. The next decision would come in time. Until then, he could let the game be his guide.