“She signed a nondisclosure agreement,” I tell him. “You can give her all of the details.”

“Aw shit, looks like I found my new therapist,” he says and a surprised snort slips from my mouth.

It’s not that he’s funny, per se; it’s that he’s always so serious and even when he jokes, he does it with a straight face. My dad had the driest sense of humor ever, so even though I will never tell him, I do find him pretty funny when he’s not being a total jerk.

“No, but seriously.” He shakes his head and reveals a smile that is almost fragile. “The Quinton Howard Junior Foundation will support at-risk communities while also bringing attention to the problems within the League. I think it’s really important to point out the problems in these massive corporations because they tend to mirror or set the tone for issues in our communities. Whether it’s racism, greed, corruption, or violence, the League is a microcosm of bigger issues, and too often players are afraid to speak against them—you can’t bite the hand that feeds you. So I’m going to take the lead, stir things up so that the players, past and present, can have their voices heard.”

“I had no idea players felt this way. Is it really that big of a problem?” Jen asks.

“It’s bigger.” Quinton doesn’t hesitate. “You know, with the news about CTE starting to make ripples, some people are acknowledging the real danger in playing football. But we’re only talking about it because so many former players are suffering and dying. CTE is just one aspect. Nobody is talking about the rest and that’s one of the things I want to do. And as a society, we need a hard time talking about racism, but we need to have that dialogue. In a company where seventy percent of its players are Black, but only nine percent of managers and zero percent of owners are? That’s a problem. Racism isn’t just saying mean things. It’s a system that makes it impossible for minorities to reach certain levels.”

“Wow, this is really amazing.” Jen breathes out, enthralled with Quinton—lost in the passion behind his words. And I don’t blame her.

Even though I know what the foundation is and the passion he possesses for his causes, I’ve never heard him speak this way. With me, he’s guarded. He’s precise, but never emotional. Listening to him talk to Jen, however, there are feelings I can’t even begin to unpack fueling his words. This isn’t just a cause he wants to champion, this is his life’s mission. Like every year spent perfecting his craft wasn’t for a huge contract or championship ring, but for this moment . . . for the opportunity to speak and have people listen.