Travis Kelce Express Fears Over Mother’s Health as he Reveals She Disclosed to Him that She No Longer Feel Her Feet on the ground, during Jason Kelce’s Retirement Speech

There I lay, face up in the cool morning’s dew-covered grass. Waiting for a whistle I knew would come at any second. Knowing full well Anthony Harrell was a couple yards away on the ground waiting for the same.

The foreign objects that rest upon my shoulders and head weighed me down and unbalanced my weighty body. As the whistle blew, I arose, turned all in one motion and ran at my teammate.

.It isn’t even the collision I remember most, but the feeling before, of what in the f— is about to happen? How was it going to feel when I win? Whenever I smell the clippings of a freshly mowed grass, I am brought back to this day. Twelve years old, Roxboro Middle School, first day in pads. I’ve been asked many times why I chose football, why I chose the game and I never have an answer that gets it right. The best way I can explain it is what draws you to your favorite song, your favorite book. It’s what it makes you feel. The seriousness of it, the intensity of it. Stepping on the field was the most alive and free I had ever felt.

It was a visceral feeling with football unlike any other sport. The hairs on my arms would stand up. I could hit somebody, run around like a crazed lunatic and then get told good job.

I love football. Whether it was in the backyard with my brother, in the playground with my friends or suiting up Friday nights at Cleveland Heights High School.

I loved everything about it. Although I hadn’t met him yet, Jeff Stoutland often shares a quote his father would tell him: “More often than not, the easy way is the wrong way.” Football was hard. Much harder than any sport I had ever played, physically and mentally. In most other sports I was bigger, faster, stronger than anyone else. On the football field these traits were matched.