PROMPT by : You're an athlete, and you have the opportunity to meet your favourite singer. But there is a so-called curse that strikes every sports superstar who's photographed next to him/her. You have a big event/game coming up, what do you do to avoid him/her?

"Whalebone wants to meet me? Yes!" I fist-pumped the air. Making millions to throw a ball and thousands of fans were great, but having my idols request pictures with me is what gave me that "I made it!" feeling.

"You can't. Remember Coach told us he's cursed? Every team lost after someone had a picture with him. We're one game away. Don't do it, man!" Erich, the wide receiver, was usually one of the most sedate guys ever.

But an athlete in a final competition could get a bit crazy, as evidenced by the good luck charms that abounded around us like little hop-skip numbers before getting into the shower, or not using the same bar of soap twice, or eating every meal with the same fork.

Our locker room stank like unwashed socks, because, well, none of us had washed them in weeks. Same with our jerseys and at least one player's jockstrap. (I saw a reporter smearing mentholated chest rub under her nose before she came in to help with the smell.)

We were sprouting beards so plentiful small animals getting ready to hibernate were looking at them with longing.

Athletes are a superstitious bunch.

"But it's Whalebone! I still have his original LP from when I was 12. It's worth, like, $10K now. I've loved his music for literally 20 years."

Erich came over and put his hands on my shoulders and looked me very seriously in the eyes. "You're the best quarterback I've ever played with. Don't screw this up for us. You can meet him after."

Several others were nodding in agreement.

"Fine! But I don't believe in any stinking curse!"

Freddie said, "We believe enough for you, Tomas."

"I bet the other team paid him to come here and sabotage us!" Erich threw out.

"Dale said Whalebone is waiting in the hallway. How am I supposed to get on the field? I'm not exactly invisible."

"Ah ha!" cried Erich.

I looked where he was and immediately protested, "No! Uh uh!"

But a team is like family. And you'd do anything for family you love, right?

So that's why I trundled up to my semi-final game in a laundry cart, covered by clean towels for the team, while my girlfriend not only got to take a selfie with Whalebone as the team scooted past, but ended up hanging out with him in the VIP booth to watch the game.

At least we kicked the other team's butt and went on to the finals.

I know one day I'll get my pic with Whalebone. Maybe after I retire. Whenever I feel bummed, I just look at my Super Bowl ring and instantly feel better.

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