The Forgotten Man

The team doctor crouched in front of him and cut away the brace tape. "It's swollen again," the doctor said, frowning. "You shouldn't have played ninety." "I could still run." "Of course you could run." The doctor looked up at him. "The question is whether you can walk down stairs tomorrow." Mason did not answer. Inside his locker was an old photograph. In it, seventeen-year-old Mason stood on a training field in Los Angeles, wearing a United States youth shirt, surrounded by reporters, agents, and European scouts. Back then his smile was bright, as if the world were only a door waiting for him to push it open. The headline then had been: "The Future of American Soccer: Mason Carter." Later, the headlines changed. "Prodigy Falls."