IT HAPPENED TO ME: My Favorite NFL Player Asked Me Out

He had just invited me to join him when my best friend rushed over saying that we needed to leave.
Publish date:
November 29, 2016
nfl, football, missed connections, Football Players

It was just another Friday night in downtown Nashville — a night surrounded by good friends and great music. I always had a blast, but I never strayed from my girls. I was young, passionate, but so unbearably shy. I came off as confident, but it was just strings holding me up.

The four of us, dressed to the nines, marched into the least country bar we could find, as two-stepping isn’t my dance of choice. We squeezed our way to the bar, trying to make it there in one piece. (It’s basically like swimming against the tide when you try tomake your way from the door to the bar at a busy night club.) As luck had it, as soon as we made it within screaming distance of the bartenders, the man on the stool in front of me hopped up and left. I, of course, snagged it as quickly as possible. The combination of leg day and heels don’t always make for a comfortable night.

My friends and I got our usual drinks and talked a bit, but they began to trickle off into the crowd of beautiful dancing bodies. I stayed posted up on that stool like it was my job. I've never minded keeping to myself, and unlike my friends, I've never had the nerve to approach a man or ask someone to dance with me.

I sat back and awkwardly sipped my amaretto sour while yanking at the bottom of my tiny black dress. A man brushed up against me, sliding in next to the bar to order a drink. The music was loud and the lights were flashing. I kept my eyes on my glass, not really pay attention to what was going on.

As he waited for his drink, he leaned over me. I felt his presence, so I glanced up to see a beautifully muscular man. Any beautiful person will take me out of my element, but he was unbelievable. It wasn’t until he was right next to my face, about to whisper into my ear, that I realized who he was.

Ever since I was a little girl, I was the biggest NFL fan. I wanted to play football myself and I wanted to know everything there was to know about the sport. So when I realized my favorite Tennessee Titans player was standing inches away from me, I began to feel the sweat forming at my hairline.

He leaned in so close that I could feel his breath in my ear — close enough to hear him over the loud music. I managed to spit out a few words during small talk as he waited for his drink.

My head was racing a thousand miles an hour. For me, this was better than meeting any other celebrity. The bartender handed him his drink, and I was preparing for my amazing moment to be over. Instead, he looked around for a moment and walked to the other side of me as the barstool across from me opened up; he sat down and just kept talking.

Still in shock and not really processing anything he was saying, I tried to figure out my next move. Do I tell him I know who he is? I am in my own little world until I hear him ask if I like football. I responded with a nervous “Yes, why?” And soon enough, we were discussing the game in-depth. He told me he still played, and I acted like I didn’t care. I flirted while pretending like I could run circles around him when talking football.

I sat next to him for the rest of the night — I don’t have a clue if that was 30 minutes or two hours — until my night came to an abrupt stop. We were in the middle of talking about a chill hang where he and some teammates go every once in a while. He had just invited me to join him when my best friend rushed over saying that we needed to leave. The other girls were already on their way to the car.

I do what my friends say without hesitation —just the way it is. So I hopped up and apologized for having to leave and began to walk away. My friend had ahold of my hand, so there was no turning back. I heard him shout, “Could I at least get your name and number?” As I got pulled away, I glanced over my shoulder to see the last images of my amazing night ending.

We kept walking and I asked what the issue was. Why were we in such a hurry? She said there was no reason, just that she wanted to beat the rush of cars leaving when the bar closed at two.

I just ended the best night of my life, because of traffic?! I walked away from the most beautiful man I have ever laid eyes on to beat the traffic?!? I was so furious that I started laughing. I am the only person who would ever accidentally turn down a date with her celebrity crush. Just my luck.

The next morning, over breakfast with the girls, I asked if they saw who I was with. The all confirmed I sat at the bar with one guy the whole night. None of them are football fanatics, so they didn't have a clue who he was.

It was all so perfect; I was almost sure I had dreamed it that night, or exaggerated the memory in my head.

Nope. It was all an amazingly real night. One that I won’t forget. And he's still out there, with no idea who I am, and no way to ever know. (From what I hear, he is still single, though.)