If she hadn't straight up admitted to being a reporter her constant need to dig information out of him during the car ride would have been a dead giveaway. The car was an old classic, he had to give her kudos for that, though not right away. He did exactly what she had suggested he was doing, put her on mute and kept looking out the window. Of course the I-5 would have to be backed up, that fucking figured, it gave her more time to try and talk. He just watched in amazement at the new sites, the changes in buildings, and as they pulled into the stadium parking lot he had forgotten just how massive it was.<br/><br/>Five years was a long time, but Mark hobbled his way into the stadium through the VIP entrance. He was not familiar with it, always going in through the locker rooms, but it didn't take long to orient himself to where he needed to be. The tunnels that led to the field connected soon enough and he led Eliza inside and onto the green turf. He knew she would expect him to hold up his end of the bargain, and he intended to. He walked to the very spot he had gone down, the twenty three yard line, and he stood there for a while. He reminisced about the moment, what had happened five years prior, the anguish that it caused him, and then finally after what felt like forever he spoke.<br/><br/><span class="fixed-color" style="color:#b30000">"It was right here, this very spot, this is where things changed forever. I never saw the pass get caught, never saw the celebration, all I heard was bone breaking, felt the sheer agony of ligaments tearing. A moment of celebration was taken from me, my passion in the world ripped from me like candy from a baby."</span>He paused and looked around, taking in the marvelous view of the grand stadium. Grey skies were rolling in, rain was likely imminent, though that was typical Seattle weather for you.<span class="fixed-color" style="color:#b30000">"What you see before you is the product of what happened, the product of losing hope and ambition, the product of losing the drive for anything. This was my everything. I didn't soak up the limelight like everyone else, I stayed in the shadows, I gave my teammates credit, I wasn't the typical superstar, and this is how the fucking universe repaid me for my efforts. A bum knee, one incapable of ever taking a shot again."<br/>
</span><br/>Mark doubted that she understood his anguish, where he was coming from. She looked like a hard worker sure, but her job was pretty secure, she was set. Hell even missing an appendage she could do her job, all that voice to text technology ensured that could happen.<span class="fixed-color" style="color:#b30000">"To answer your last question, no, I haven't been on the field since my injury, Cleveland hasn't invited me back despite my heroics, and I wasn't exactly a drunk for the first two years, I waited for my recognition, my phone call, my invitation to the white house with the rest of the team to meet the President, but it never came. See my moment never came, you are not the first one, but by the time that came around I was already bitter. The world had mostly forgotten all about me so I said fuck them. I am not really sure why I am even giving you the light of day, I am sure you just want to use me like everyone else, sure you brought your A game with the whole 'I want to help you' line, but I have heard it all before."</span>