Andrew walked over to Heather Cox and stopped a short distance from the large camera pointed directly at him. He then took off his helmet, holding it under his arm while he waited for the question.
Heather quickly analyzed his face now fully visible after the entire game.
He still had sweat running down his forehead, his jet-black hair damp and messy, and those intense eyes that normally carried an enormous amount of confidence, but now showed less light and a much emptier expression.
He didn't look devastated. But he also didn't look like someone trying to hide a loss behind a face pretending not to care.
Heather didn't hold his gaze for more than a second before beginning, [Andrew, an extremely difficult game in a brutal environment, and even so you were still close to pulling it off. Do you think this loss changes the confidence you have as a team in any way?] she asked as she moved the microphone closer to him.
Andrew took a couple of seconds before answering, [I think…] he began slowly while adjusting the helmet slightly under his arm. [I think we played a good game. Like you said, it slipped away by very little. So we're not going to lose confidence because of this. But obviously there are things we have to fix.]
His tone wasn't defensive or emotional. Far too calm to the surprise of Heather herself and probably also the millions of people watching the broadcast.
"He doesn't look okay…" Howard commented from the couch, now far calmer than he had been minutes earlier when he was yelling about the referees.
Leonard slowly nodded beside him.
For them, watching Andrew lose still felt unreal.
For four years they had lived through what seemed like an irrefutable theory in the flesh, and suddenly someone had just proven that it actually could be broken.
They had followed him through all of high school.
They had never seen him lose.
Monica let out an irritated scoff, "Of course he's not okay, geniuses."
Leonard glanced sideways at her.
Honestly, Monica seemed to be taking the loss worse than Andrew himself, or at least worse than what Andrew was letting show on television.
'He looks sad…' Rachel Green thought without taking her eyes off the screen while unconsciously fidgeting with her fingers.
On the field, Heather nodded before continuing, [This was the first loss of your football career. What are you feeling right now?]
Rachel immediately frowned, "What a bitch."
Monica reacted instantly too, "That question is completely unprofessional, Heather Bitch," she muttered automatically.
Howard and Leonard exchanged a glance for a second.
Both agreed the question had gone straight for the wound, even so the girls' reaction was getting a little intense.
Because objectively it was also the biggest story of the night. Everyone wanted Heather to ask that question.
On screen, Andrew slightly raised his free hand and scratched the side of his head a little before answering, [I don't know…] he said after a few seconds. [Losing never feels good. But I'll handle it.]
He didn't add anything else. Too simple, which confused Heather, who had expected him to be more emotional and far less in control. After all, he was still an 18-year-old kid who had just lost after years without a defeat. Anyone with that kind of history would be complaining or taking it much worse.
Heather ended up nodding, [Last question. What do you say right now to all the UCLA fans after a loss like this?]
[Have faith,] Andrew answered, and after a brief second continued, [It's a hard hit. But the season is just starting, and now we have to prove we're a real team.]
For a moment there was silence. Heather and the cameraman were impressed by the response.
A freshman, exhausted, sweating, and coming off his first loss, speaking with absolute calm.
[Thank you, Andrew,] Heather finally said.
He simply nodded and finally started walking toward the tunnel.
As soon as he passed the entrance to the field, the atmosphere changed completely.
The deafening noise of Memorial Stadium slowly began fading behind him, replaced by the darker lighting of the tunnel, footsteps echoing against the concrete, and distant voices from staff members and players.
Andrew walked a few more yards until he felt a pat on his shoulder. He slightly turned his head, somewhat surprised, and saw Mora.
"Coach?"
"Hey," Mora greeted while walking beside him. He had clearly waited for the interview to finish. "Good answers."
Andrew barely nodded.
Mora observed him for another second before asking directly, "Everything okay?"
It wasn't a superficial question from Mora. He genuinely wanted to know. To feel things out. Within the UCLA Bruins coaching staff, there had always been a quiet concern regarding something very specific: how Andrew would react once he eventually lost.
Not because they doubted his talent. Or his work ethic.
It was inevitable. Even the great ones lose, especially for a rebuilding team like theirs.
The entire program already revolved enormously around him.
Andrew was the present, the future, the face of the team, and the most important piece of the entire rebuild from the perspective of Mora, Chow, Dan Guerrero (UCLA's athletic director), and the rest of the coaching staff.
Someone so obsessed with winning could react in dangerous ways after a first loss, like isolating himself too much, becoming frustrated, carrying all the blame on his shoulders, or falling into complicated mental spirals.
Especially someone who had practically never lost playing football.
The shock could be too much.
That was why Mora was genuinely paying close attention to his reaction.
Andrew walked a few more steps before answering, "Yeah, well… within what losing is, you know."
Mora looked at him for a few seconds and nodded. At first glance, the way he had answered those questions and the way he was acting now made him feel more at ease.
He sounded frustrated, but functional. Most importantly, aware that the world wasn't ending because of one loss.
"Good," Mora said, giving him another pat on the shoulder.
Finally, they reached the visitors' locker room.
The atmosphere was completely different from the previous week after the Rice Owls game.
There were still voices, metallic helmet clanks, trainers moving around, and players talking to one another, but everything felt far more subdued.
Andrew sat down at his metal locker right beside Steve, who was strangely quiet by his standards, sitting leaned forward while staring at the floor.
Andrew didn't say anything either. He simply started taking off his gear slowly.
Further away, several trainers were treating banged-up players, especially defensive players and offensive linemen.
Some had ice packs taped to their shoulders or knees.
Others were still breathing heavily after the brutal physical exhaustion of the game.
Until a single loud clap echoed through the middle of the locker room.
Everyone looked up.
Andrew stopped taking off his cleats for a second and looked toward the center of the locker room.
Mora was standing there. His firm gaze moving across everyone. "Why those faces?" he asked, raising his voice slightly.
The locker room went completely silent.
"You played a good game. Of course there are things to fix, but we almost beat the sixteenth-ranked team in the country in their own house."
He let a few seconds of silence pass while scanning the room.
"So understand something: this isn't something to be destroyed over. I'm proud of you."
Several players slightly lifted their heads.
Mora continued, "Last year this program finished 6-8. Every time we faced ranked teams, we got crushed."
He wasn't exaggerating. Several veterans still remembered those losses vividly.
In 2011:
#10 USC Trojans beat them 50-0.
#23 Texas Longhorns beat them 49-20.
#6 Stanford Cardinal beat them 45-19.
#8 Oregon Ducks beat them 49-31.
Now they had just lost by only six points against the number sixteen team in the country, on the road, in one of the toughest environments in the nation.
Little by little, a different kind of murmur started spreading through the locker room.
A more positive one, because what their head coach was saying was true.
They hadn't been destroyed, nor had they collapsed. They had genuinely competed, and for a team that was new, extremely young, and working with an entirely new staff, that left some very strong feelings behind.
Mora finally nodded slowly. "Now…" he said, "take a quick shower. We've got a flight to catch."
They took the quick, unglamorous showers typical of sports.
Afterward, the team buses took them back to the hotel. They still had to pick up their luggage before heading to the airport.
Andrew already had almost everything ready inside the room he shared with Steve. It wasn't like they had brought suitcases full of clothes anyway.
On trips like this, the postgame stay was usually extremely short.
Even if the game had ended late, teams almost always preferred returning that same night.
Sunday was for physical and mental recovery. Wasting time staying an extra day made no sense.
At that moment, someone knocked on the door.
Andrew opened it and found one of the program assistants standing there.
"Your families are waiting in the area near the buffet," the man informed them after a small greeting gesture.
Andrew nodded. "We're coming."
The assistant returned the gesture and walked away down the hallway.
Andrew closed the door and looked toward Steve. "Did you arrange to see your family?" he asked.
Before heading to the airport, the program normally allowed a small window of time for players to see family members or friends who had traveled to watch them play.
Nothing too long. Everything was tightly controlled with security and strict schedules.
And it depended heavily on each player's mood. After a loss, there were players who absolutely didn't want to see anyone.
They didn't feel like talking. Or pretending they were okay.
Others, on the other hand, needed exactly that: to hug someone close to them and feel supported.
Andrew had decided he would see them before returning to LA. They had all traveled to support him. Lily was probably desperate to see him.
Besides, he knew them all too well to not realize they were probably exaggerating their worry right now.
He didn't want more drama afterward.
He preferred seeing them now, telling them he was okay overall and that losing one game didn't mean the end of the world, so at least they could return home peacefully on their flight.
Though honestly, he didn't really feel like it.
Because inevitably he was going to have to act a little more put together than he actually felt just to keep them from worrying too much.
"Yeah," Steve answered in a tone far less lighthearted than usual.
"My parents said they wanted to see me…" he added quietly while finishing packing a few things. "Funny enough, losses are the only moments where they can spend five minutes without fighting each other."
Andrew let out a faint breath through his nose.
Steve's parents had already separated, and ever since then, every time they were around each other everything somehow felt even more tense.
"Let's get this over with," Steve finally said while opening the door and stepping into the hallway without adding anything else.
Andrew followed him, closing the door behind them both.
Andrew arrived at the area they had pointed him toward and spotted them immediately.
It was a large group. Eleven people.
The moment he appeared, Lily was the first to react. She ran directly toward him.
Andrew barely had time to crouch down before receiving the small impact of Lily hugging him tightly.
"Hey, little sis," Andrew said, automatically forming a faint smile the moment he felt the hug.
Then he stood back up while carrying her.
"How are you?" Lily immediately asked in her tiny worried voice.
Andrew couldn't help but find the straightforwardness of the question a little funny. "I'm okay," he answered. "Why?"
Lily looked at him from inches away as if the answer were obvious. "Because you lost."
For her, the logic was simple: losing = feeling bad.
Besides, Andrew never lost.
Even she had felt sad watching the end of the game, so naturally she assumed he had to feel much worse.
"I'm okay, don't worry," Andrew replied. "Besides, I always lose to you and I'm still here, right?"
Lily spent a few seconds recalculating the logic.
It made sense. She practically always beat him whenever they played things together.
Finally, she nodded convincingly and curled back up against his neck.
Andrew walked toward the rest of the family.
The moment Cam saw him approaching while carrying Lily, he dramatically brought his hands to his mouth, as if he had just witnessed the most emotional sibling moment in history. The very next second he practically lunged at Andrew to hug him.
"You played an amazing game, son!" he said, extremely emotional. "I'm so proud of you!"
Andrew didn't even have a chance to dodge him. He also couldn't really return the hug much because he was still holding Lily.
"Thanks, Dad."
Lily let out a tiny squished complaint in the middle of the hug.
Cam immediately pulled away. "Oh! Sorry, sweetheart!"
Then came: Mitch, Phil, Claire, Gloria, and Haley.
All of them gave him hugs, words of encouragement, or attempts to make him feel better.
The only ones hanging a bit further back, less visibly affectionate, were Manny, Jay, Luke, and Alex. Though they were clearly worried too.
When Andrew finally became a little freer from the initial wave of attention, Jay walked over. He placed his large hand on Andrew's shoulder and gave him a couple of firm pats.
"You played a good game, kid," he said with complete honesty.
Then he added with obvious pride, "Three hundred yards and three touchdowns against Nebraska are elite quarterback numbers. Some of the best in the entire NCAA."
Andrew nodded slightly.
Then Jay added without thinking too much about it, "Aside from that interception, it was almost a perfect game."
"Jay!" Gloria immediately exclaimed in a scolding tone.
Jay reacted instantly, realizing what he had just said.
He knew Andrew perfectly well. He knew that being as obsessively competitive as he was, Andrew had probably been replaying that interception over and over in his head since the moment it happened.
"I mean…" Jay quickly started, trying to correct himself.
But Andrew let out a small laugh before saving him, "I get it, Grandpa," he said. "It's okay. Thanks."
Jay observed him for another second. Then he nodded and gave his shoulder one last squeeze before pulling his hand away.
They didn't have much time. A few minutes later they had to say goodbye.
The hardest part was separating Lily from Andrew.
The little girl was practically glued to him, and it took a lot to convince her to let go.
Andrew ended up joking, "I'm starting to think you're secretly a koala."
After this quick visit, everyone felt much calmer. Andrew said he was exhausted and still processing the loss, but that he was okay, that at some point this was bound to happen, and that it wasn't the end of the world.
Though Mitch didn't leave entirely reassured. He knew his son too well. And he knew that many times Andrew used that "everything's fine" mechanism to carry things on his own instead of showing he was more affected and letting others help him.
Jay was the same way. He did that himself.
But neither of them said anything.
Later that same night, both Andrew and his family ended up returning to LA on separate flights.
The team flew back on UCLA's charter.
Meanwhile, Mitch, Cam, Jay, and the rest took a normal commercial flight.
There wasn't much point in staying in Nebraska. They had traveled only for the game, and nobody wanted to spend extra money on a hotel just to leave on Sunday instead.
Sunday ended up being practically a full recovery day for UCLA's roster.
Andrew and Steve woke up close to noon after sleeping in complete exhaustion.
Later, after eating something, they had group meetings with the offensive coaches. Even though it was Sunday, there was still a focus on reviewing the game: mistakes, adjustments, and positive things.
But it wasn't an endless session either, since the team was physically and mentally exhausted.
By around three in the afternoon, they were free.
Andrew stopped by his parents' house later that day. As expected, after a while Claire, Phil, Jay, and the rest "casually" dropped by for a visit.
Clearly everyone still wanted to see him a little more after the short amount of time they had gotten at the hotel.
The atmosphere was much calmer than the previous night.
At one point they suggested all having dinner together. But Andrew ended up rejecting the idea rather calmly.
"I barely slept, and I have to be at UCLA early tomorrow," he explained.
He was socially exhausted and didn't want more questions, nor to keep seeing everyone looking at him as if they were waiting to discover whether his first loss would make him mentally collapse.
He returned to his apartment and was alone.
Steve wasn't there.
He had gone to have dinner at his mother's house and would probably spend the night there. She lived only a few minutes away from UCLA and, since he had a car, it wasn't a problem.
Even though Steve would never admit it out loud, Andrew knew perfectly well that the loss had hit him pretty hard too.
In fact, probably harder than he showed.
Throughout the entire preseason camp, Steve had been one of the most excited guys on the team. He constantly talked about reaching the BCS National Championship, facing an SEC powerhouse, and ending that conference's absolute dominance over college football.
But now, with a loss this early in the season, the outlook for UCLA had become much more complicated.
Because the BCS system in 2012 was brutally strict.
To qualify for the BCS National Championship Game, you had to finish first or second in the final BCS rankings at the end of the regular season.
That ranking didn't depend on just one poll.
It was calculated through a formula that combined three different components: the AP Poll, the Coaches Poll, and an average of multiple computer rankings and statistical algorithms.
Each one representing exactly one-third of the final result.
That made the margin for error incredibly small.
The safest way to reach the national championship was simple: stay undefeated. If you finished 12-0, or 13-0 in a Power Conference, you practically guaranteed yourself a spot.
With one loss, you could still make it. That was fairly common.
But it depended heavily on when you lost, who you lost to, and what the rest of the teams around the country did.
UCLA still fit within that scenario.
After all, they had lost early by only six points against a top-20 opponent.
That kept the possibility alive. But it also made it very clear that they no longer had room for error.
If they wanted to reach the national championship, they practically needed to win everything left on the schedule, and the problem was the schedule itself.
Because they still had to face monsters like Stanford, the Oregon Ducks, and USC.
Teams far stronger than Rice and actually better than Nebraska.
Could you make the BCS with two losses?
Technically yes, but it was almost a historical anomaly.
It had only happened in completely chaotic situations, like the LSU Tigers in 2007, when practically every top team started losing to each other during the final weeks of the season.
It was an extremely rare statistical chain reaction.
The season was still very much alive, but for the national championship, the margin for error had disappeared earlier than they expected.
That was probably what had hit Steve the hardest.
Andrew slightly shook his head, pushing those thoughts away.
Steve was probably one of the few people on the team who truly believed that intensely they could reach the national championship.
When expectations are gigantic, the falls hit harder too.
Andrew thought differently. It wasn't that he didn't believe in the team's potential. He simply never focused too much on things that far away.
He didn't think about which Bowl game they could play in, nor about final rankings.
His mind always worked game by game.
Immediate present.
That was also why he managed pressure better.
Andrew finished setting everything up in front of the living room television to review film: the iPad, notes, loose sheets, and several clips Chow had already sent him.
Chow was extremely detailed and very strict with work.
Not emotionally obsessive. But completely methodical.
In fact, during a large part of the return flight, he had sat next to Andrew reviewing reads, protections, coverages, and specific plays from the game. Including that interception and exactly what the mistake had been.
That was how he started watching film. Minutes passed.
Then hours.
The apartment remained completely silent. He hadn't even eaten. He wasn't hungry. His stomach had felt shut tight ever since the final whistle of yesterday's game.
The more he tried to focus, the less he could.
Until finally, around eight at night, he let out a frustrated breath and rubbed a hand over the bridge of his nose.
"Shit…" Andrew muttered. "I'm not getting anywhere."
He was struggling badly to concentrate. He kept staring at the screen without actually processing anything.
Eventually he stood up. He grabbed the keys to his BMW from the table. He needed to clear his head for a while. Even if it was just driving around listening to music.
He left the apartment, closed the door behind him, and minutes later he was already driving through the nighttime streets of LA while soft music filled the interior of the car.
After nearly an hour driving aimlessly through the city, he finally pulled into a gas station. He filled the tank and then parked the BMW in one of the empty spots beside the minimarket.
The station's harsh white lights partially illuminated the car.
Andrew turned off the engine and the silence hit him immediately.
The only things he could hear were the distant hum of the gas pumps, cars passing far away, and the occasional noise from the station.
Andrew remained staring forward, somewhat lost inside his own thoughts.
Finally, he let out a faint sigh and pulled his phone out of his pocket.
He had avoided going on social media since the game ended. But now he couldn't keep ignoring it anymore.
He started reading.
@ABCCollegeFootball — 11:58 PM · Sep 8, 2012
FINAL — Nebraska survives a thriller in Lincoln.
#16 Nebraska 30 — #13 UCLA 24
Taylor Martinez and the Huskers hold off a late comeback attempt from Andrew Pritchett-Tucker and the Bruins in front of 85,000+ at Memorial Stadium.
Andrew tonight:
+300 total yards
3 passing TDs
68.5% completions
First loss of his football career.
#Nebraska #UCLA #CollegeFootball
...
@SportsCenter — 12:52 AM · Sep 9, 2012
ABC reports that the UCLA vs. Nebraska game peaked at more than 9.8 million viewers nationally during the final play.
One of the most-watched games of Week 2.
The Andrew Pritchett-Tucker effect is real.
…
Normally, an average regular season game on cable sports channels like ESPN or ESPN2 would only pull around 2.0 to 2.5 million viewers.
On broadcast television like ABC, the numbers went higher. Around 3 to 5 million was average.
Then games between ranked teams outside the top-10, like UCLA and Nebraska that night, usually landed somewhere between 4 and 6 million viewers.
That was the norm.
And that was what made what happened yesterday so strange. Neither UCLA nor Nebraska were even inside the top-10. Even so, the game had nearly touched ten million viewers.
The reason was pretty obvious.
But Andrew didn't give a shit about TV ratings. He kept reading.
@BleacherReportCFB — 2:02 AM · Sep 9, 2012
Andrew Pritchett-Tucker after tonight's loss: "Losing never feels good. But I'll handle it."
The composure at 18 years old is ridiculous.
Andrew kept scrolling.
@LAsportsburner — 3:11 AM · Sep 9, 2012
Attached: blurry photo of Andrew, Steve, and Justin at the party after beating Rice.
UCLA's "chosen one" partying with alcohol and celebrities one week ago.
Result today: LOSS
Welcome to real college football.
💬 Replies to the tweet.
@FightOn_SC:
While Barkley studies film, this guy goes partying.
@USCfan89:
Matt Barkley through 2 games: 10 TDs, USC still number one on the road to the title and the Heisman.
The real king of LA.
@AnomyusD:
The difference is one is preparing for a historic season and the NFL; and the other is preparing to be an influencer and hang out with celebrities.
@lancehenderson:
You can't live like a celebrity and expect to dominate college football like that.
@soulzn932:
First real tough game and he lost. Now he knows how this level works.
…
Andrew kept reading.
More comments, mockery, and people talking as if the game had ended with UCLA getting humiliated.
The further he scrolled, the more he felt something building up inside his chest. His jaw slowly tightened.
Until finally he shut his eyes hard, locked the phone, and threw it onto the passenger seat.
The phone hit the leather seat as silence once again filled the interior of the car. And there, alone inside the car at night, under the artificial white lights of the gas station, he finally reacted for real.
Because throughout the entire day he had been calming other people down, acting composed, enduring analysis, and pretending he was handling everything perfectly.
But now there were no cameras, no family, no teammates, no coaches.
Just him and all the frustration finally exploded at once.
"Fuck!" he shouted while slamming both fists against the steering wheel several times.
The noise echoed inside the car.
"I was one play away!"
He slammed the steering wheel again.
"ONE FUCKING PLAY!"
His breathing started speeding up.
The image of the pass to Amari instantly came back into his head. It had been perfect. If Steve had been there, he would've caught it.
Then his mind jumped to the interception. The final drive.
Everything.
"Why the fuck are they applauding me?!" he shouted in frustation, hitting the wheel again, "¡We lost!"
That was what bothered him the most.
Not the haters mocking him as if they had spent years waiting for the exact moment he finally lost.
It was something else. The enormous amount of commentators, analysts, official accounts, and people in general talking as if what happened that night had been admirable and inspiring.
Praising him. Saying they almost won, that he was still one of the best quarterbacks in the country, and that as a freshman he was already elite after only two games.
Andrew could only think about something much simpler: they didn't win.
That was the only thing that mattered.
He didn't care about ratings, the stupid "Andrew effect," or that they had almost won in one of the toughest environments in the country.
All of that felt empty to him. Because he couldn't see defeat as something positive.
All he felt was humiliation. As if people were treating him like some nice story, the brave freshman who almost pulled it off, but still lost in the end.
Andrew didn't want to be admirable, or the future.
He wanted to win. That was it.
Even the applause from Nebraska at the end of the game had felt almost like: "Nice try, kid."
That made him even angrier because he had been one play away from leaving that stadium in absolute silence with all of Nebraska crushed.
Andrew breathed a little harder. Then he ran both hands through his hair, pushing it back.
Besides, the situation wasn't nearly as good as many people seemed to believe.
Yeah, right now analysts, shows, journalists, and fans were still talking about him positively even after the loss. The haters were still the minority.
There was still a certain layer of protection around him.
As if the entire country was willing to give him a pass for being a freshman and playing incredibly in both games.
But Andrew knew perfectly well how this worked.
If they lost again, everything would change.
That was when the real doubts would begin, the harsh criticism, the questions about whether he was overrated, and the narrative that the hype had been exaggerated.
And the next game didn't help at all. They were facing the Oregon State Beavers.
Before the season started, Oregon State had supposedly been an easy team. They weren't the Ducks.
During preseason, practically nobody expected anything from them. They were coming off a 3-9 record in 2011. One of the worst recruiting classes. Same staff. Most polls and analysts projected them near the bottom of the Pac-12 North division.
Practically nonexistent hype.
But as soon as the season started, Oregon State immediately began shutting people up. In their first game they crushed Nicholls State 77-3.
Even though it was a weaker opponent, the score was so extreme that it started drawing national attention.
Then came the second game. That was where everything exploded.
Because they faced the Wisconsin Badgers, the number twelve team in the country.
The narrative beforehand had been crystal clear: Wisconsin was supposed to win comfortably. National media practically treated the game like a formality.
Wisconsin was expected to dominate and continue building Montee Ball's Heisman campaign.
But the opposite happened.
Oregon State won 10-7.
Immediately it became one of the most talked-about games of the entire week alongside Nebraska-UCLA.
In a single night, the Beavers went from irrelevant team to extremely dangerous dark horse.
Now analysts were starting to describe them as physical and brutally tough defensively.
Especially their defense.
Because they had allowed only ten points through two games.
It was practically guaranteed that when the AP Poll updated on Monday, Oregon State would enter the Top 25.
Probably Top-20. It didn't seem impossible after beating #12.
Suddenly UCLA was forced to play another brutally difficult game just one week later. Two consecutive matchups against Top-25 teams.
And now there was no room left for another loss.
Andrew leaned his head back against the seat again, staring at the roof of the car.
He tried to breathe deeply. But something wasn't right. At first it was only a slight pressure in his chest.
Mild.
Then his heart started beating faster.
Andrew automatically frowned. He tried to ignore it. But the feeling intensified.
Then he felt something cold running through his body. His eyes widened slightly because he recognized that feeling.
Far too well.
'No way…' Andrew thought.
-------------------------------------------------
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