It was earlier than usual when Zach woke up. The sun was just starting to light edges of the sky. He peeked at his clock. 5:51am. The smell of bacon, coffee, and fried potatoes acted as his alarm. His mom had probably been up all night getting ready. It was a big day. The day of the draft. They went all out every year. It was like Christmas, Thanksgiving, Easter, and the 4th of July all rolled into one in the Martinez house. But today was different. Today, Zach would be drafted.
He got out of bed and immediately took a shower. It was the only chance he would get to be alone all day. With all the fuss his mom made, and all the guests coming over, Zach relished the solitude. He sat under the hot water thinking about his father. Was it weird to feel guilty that he couldn’t be there to watch his son follow in his footsteps? The counselor told him that all his feelings about his dad’s death were valid. She said that everyone grieves in their own way. But that was years ago. Would he ever get over it? Did he want to? He squeezed body wash onto a washcloth and scrubbed himself hard.
It was a jeans and t-shirt kind of day even though his mom would ask him why he couldn’t wear something nicer. He glanced at his phone that was already buzzing with too many text messages to count. He promised he would only use his phone to talk to potential teams. No texting or surfing while the draft was going on. Anyone he would normally keep in touch with was either already at the house or would be soon.
Zach walked downstairs to the sound of conversation coming from the kitchen. His mom was sitting at the table across from Cassandra. Despite his mother being up all night, and it was clear that she had been judging from the pile of dirty dishes in the sink and the amount of food in the refrigerator when he went for a glass of milk, she was energetic and bright eyed without a hint of fatigue.
“Good morning.” She said with an excited lilt. Not one strand of her black hair was out of place.
“Morning.” He said as he got a plate from the cupboard.
“Uh uh.” His sister said wagging her finger. “Get a paper plate.” And pointed at the mountain of pots and pans in the sink. “Don’t saddle others with more work.” Zach gave the girl a mocking sneer, which the girl returned, and complied putting the plate back.
He piled a paper plate with bacon, eggs, home fries and two pieces of toast, and walked around the table kissing his mother on the cheek when he passed. He reached up and thumped the girl on the ear. She swore and smacked his butt before he sat down. Her knees were pulled up with her combat boots resting on the seat with her rear. She held a cup of black coffee in one hand resting on her knee as she reached for a comically large pile of multicolored conchas on the plate in front of her.
“Everyone will be here soon.” His mother said. “The camera crew is coming at 9:00. I told the guests to be here before that.”
“Camera crew?” Zach and Cassandra said in unison. His tone was confused. Her’s was excited.
“Yes. Camera crew.” His mom repeated. “So, you have plenty of time to put something on a little nicer. It’s not every day you get drafted.”
“Internet says you’re almost a lock to go number one. Dad would be freaking out right now.” Cassandra said stuffing her mouth with a pastry. It was always easier for Cassandra to talk about their father than Zach. The resentment he felt for others when they talked about him welled up in him and he pushed it back down. It wasn’t fair that he should think he knew Dad best. He cursed himself for being so weak as to think ill of his sister. “Earth to Zach!” Cassandra said throwing a piece of bacon at him which earned an icy look from their mom. She mouthed “Sorry” to her mother and picked it up from the table popping it into her mouth. “I said Miami has the first pick. The beach, sunshine, shopping.” She ticked on her fingers as she named all the best things she’d read about the city and gasped abruptly. “Cuban foooooooood.” She whispered with a glint in her eye.
“That’d be fine.” Zach said buttering his toast. Phillip Martinez was the seventh overall pick in his draft. When they watched it as a family he would shout, unsolicited, “Top Ten, Dog!!!” which usually got him a hit in the head with a throw pillow from one of the kids. “I don’t care where I go. Every team needs help.” Zach caught his mother looking at him in a way he’d never seen. They had money, prestige a beautiful home. Zach Martinez was the talk of the nation. So, why did his mother look at him with pity?
“What about you?” He said to his teenage sister. “Mom says you’re second in your class right now. I’m surprised Dr. Horowitz let you off for the day.”
Cassandra grimaced. “I have to make it up, you know?”
“I’m glad you’re here. And you’re right. Dad would be all over this.” He said and downed the rest of his milk.
Mom stood from the table and motioned for Cassandra to help her with setting up the other room. Cassandra dropped her last strip of bacon on the plate and stood. She walked around and hugged Zach around the neck. “I’m proud of you, jerkoff.”
“Thanks, turd.” Zach wrapped his arm around Cassandra’s head and squeezed.
They spent the rest of the morning reminiscing about past Draft Days. Cassandra brought up the time Dad threw a whole bowl of queso dip at the TV when New York traded their first-round pick for a veteran on his last legs. Mom remembered the year when Zach guessed every first-round draft pick correctly. “All 30 teams.” She pinched his cheek.
“The Guardians used to call Dad all the time for his advice.” Zach said. He shifted his voice to a lower tone mimicking his father. “Dammit, Nina! We can’t overthink this! Draft the best goddamned kid on the board.” They all laughed, and though Zach missed his dad, he cherished the memories.
“I miss him, too.” Mom said as if reading his mind.
They continued to busy themselves around the house until their guests arrived. Extended family, close friends and well-wishers gathered in the living room as the morning quiet turned into a veritable soiree. The TV was loud showing all the different prospects for the year’s draft class including Zachary Martinez. Everyone cheered when they showed his face on the screen.
Zach spent most of his time before the actual draft chitchatting with people he hadn’t seen or heard from in a while but were still big parts of his life. His cousin Bertie who was in the league for a couple of years but left due to injury. His dad’s former, and now Zach’s, agent Sydney Straussheim who made sure all Dad’s affairs were in order. It was cozy and warm. And Zach thought of his father again and how much he would have enjoyed this.
The coverage started and he sat on the couch between his mom and Cassandra. Everyone in the room knew how important draft day was to the Martinez family, and no one wanted to be rude by interrupting what was sure to be one of the greatest days in their history.
“Good morning, everyone, and welcome to the 2025 NSHL Draft. I’m Oliver Duke. Well, the time for speculation and guess work will come to an end today as we find out who goes where. And there’s no lack of talent in this class is there, JK?” He turned to his left addressing a man in his late sixties that Zach had seen at every draft since he could remember. He may as well have been another family member for as many times as Zach watched him.
“That’s right, Oliver.” The scrawl under his bust on television said Jackson Knight-Draft Expert. “This is one of the best classes we’ve seen in a long time. Strength, speed, intelligence, guts. These young men and women have got it all. I’m excited to see what’s to come.”
“Joining us fresh from her retirement is the third and final member of our panel today. We are lucky to have you with us, a lock for the Hall of Fame, Nina Piccone.”
“Thanks, Oliver.” A smartly dressed woman in a blue suit sat to the left of Jackson. The house applauded when they showed her face. It was hard to recognize her without her uniform on. Zach would have to get used to it. She said the same thing, more or less, that her fellow panelist said…glad to be here, looking forward to it, blah blah blah.
“So, who do you think will be selected first? JK, you’ve been pretty vocal about your first-round predictions.” Oliver said.
“Yeah.” He fake chuckled. “And I’m not changing now. I gotta think Miami, in need of some serious muscle, will go with Zach Martinez out of the Texas Academy.” The whoop went up among the guests, and Zach waved his arms to shush them. “He’s got everything they need.” The commentator said. A video of Zach performing various feats during his academy training and final exams accompanied by lame electronic rock music. “He’s got massive strength and was the fastest cadet at the combine. He’s unusually adept at thinking on his feet. Highly intelligent. He knows how to stay healthy. And let’s face it, He’s got an unmatched pedigree.” The screen went back to the panelists and Nina shuffled her notes.
“That’s probably one of the biggest if not the biggest story of this draft: Zach Martinez following in his father’s footsteps.” Oliver said. “Nina, you were a teammate of four time Hero of the Year Phillip Martinez. Is there anything in Zach that you saw in him?”
Nina smiled broadly at her companions. In her time with the NSHL, Nina learned a few things about public perception and how to use it to her advantage. Images of Zach’s father was on the screen performing some of the same feats they had just shown Zach doing. The similarity was uncanny. “There is no replacing Phillip Martinez. I for one am looking forward to watching Zach become his own man out from under his father’s shadow. He’s got the talent. All he needs is the right mentor. As far as going first, Miami has made their interest known, so we’ll see.” Zach was glued to the screen when he felt an arm wrap around his muscular shoulders. He looked at his mom, and she was smiling. She gave him a squeeze and he smiled back.
The panel went on with their analyzing of the first few picks and possible moves each team would make. He was half listening half theorizing his own picks when his phone buzzed. He looked at the screen. Dr. Lisa Horowitz. She was the head of the Texas Academy and Zach’s and Cassandra’s former and current trainer, respectively. She didn’t do anything without deliberate intention. She either needed information from him or had information for him. This was not a social call.
He answered with a customary greeting. “Hello Mr. Martinez.” Dr. Horowitz’s distinctive low husky voice said. “I am sorry to disturb you. I will be brief. Miami will not be selecting you.” Zach sunk in the couch dumbstruck. He watched the time on the screen. The countdown for the first pick was at four minutes and going down. “Mr. Martinez? Are you there?”
“Yes. I’m here.” He said shaking his head back to a more lucid state. “I just don’t understand. How do you know this?”
She sighed over the phone and spoke as if she was mildly insulted. “I have done the calculations. You have a better chance of being abruptly jettisoned into space than Miami picking you first overall.” She paused. “I thought you knew me better than to question my formulas.”
“Yes Ma’am.” Zach said, “It just took me off guard.”
“I won’t keep you. It is not the outcome you expected, but I think you will be pleasantly surprised.” She paused again. “I never knew your father personally. But he was a great man.” Zach said nothing. “More than that, he was his own man. See that you are as well. Good luck Mr. Martinez. I look forward to following your career. Please say hello to your family for me.”
“I will. Thanks Dr. Horowitz.” The line went dead. Mom and Cassandra asked what she wanted. Zach was about to answer when the clock on TV counted down to zero, and the announcers said the draft would begin. The camera panned to a stage with a podium. The NSHL logo was painted on the front. There was a rambunctious but otherwise well-behaved crowd of people cheering as the commissioner of the league walked to the podium with a piece of paper in hand. Every team was represented by the fans in attendance. Their insignias and color clashed with each other as chants rose for their chosen teams.
The banner on the screen said Milo Broadstreet-NSHL Commissioner. He was dressed in a finely tailored silk suit that showed off his physique. He was older now, but his days with the league were apparent. Cousin Bertie said he looked like he could still be active. “I’d like to welcome you to the 2025 Draft of the National Superheroes League. With the first pick…”
“Here it comes.” Cassandra said in a sing song way. The room was quiet. Zach was holding his sister’s and mother’s hands.
“…The Miami Angels trade to the Dallas Guardians for their first pick this year, and Adrian Polk aka Neverman. The Dallas Guardians are on the clock.” A five-minute timer came on the screen. And the panel started yammering at each other about how unexpected this was. They detailed why each of them thought Miami had done such a thing. Nina sited how young the team was, and adding a wily veteran like Neverman was a smart direction. The clock ticked down and the commissioner returned to the podium.
“With the first pick of the 2025 draft, The Dallas Guardians select Zachary Martinez aka Prodigy, Texas Academy.” The crowd went nuts, but the people in the house couldn’t tell. They were too busy jumping up and down and screaming. Cassandra was standing on the couch flexing like a bodybuilder yelling “Yeah!” in a low voice every time she changed poses. Mom was hugging Zach and laugh-crying.
“How cool is it that Phillip Martinez’s legacy as Paragon will be carried on by his son on his, and your former team, Nina?” Oliver said.
“Words can’t describe how great and poetic this is. If Zach is half the hero his dad was, he’ll be the best in the league.” She answered. More images of Zach came on the screen. He was lifting a truck and throwing it. They clocked his mile time. He couldn’t fly like his father, but they had to get a special clock that measured millionths of a second when he ran. They showed an unofficial video that went viral a few months ago of a classmate slamming him in the head with a twenty-pound sledgehammer. Zach didn’t even blink when the hammer shattered.
His phone rang again. This time the screen said Guardians HQ. He shushed everyone and answered. He had a short conversation with the team manager and Captain, Louverture Williams: a hero Zach knew very well as Crucible. Zach thanked him for the opportunity and guaranteed he would not let the team down. He hung up and went back to his guests who nearly mobbed him with hugs and high fives.
He gave an interview to the camera crew who had, up to that point, remained like flies on the wall. But an exclusive with the first-round draft pick was a scoop they couldn’t let slip away. Zach’s agent trained him how to answer questions. He was gracious without being overly thankful. When they asked him why he chose the code name Prodigy, Zach explained it’s what his father used to call him.
The day went on and they enjoyed the draft much as they had in the past. Cheering when one of their guesses were correct. Receiving friendly insults when they were wrong. Zach argued with his friends over why someone should or shouldn’t be drafted by whichever team for whatever reason. He and Cassandra took turns making fun of the various inane comments analysts inevitably make.
They went through all seven rounds of the draft, and Zach paid particular attention to those who would be on his rookie team. The day wound down and everyone went home leaving nothing but their sincerity for Zach’s success. Sydney was the last to leave giving him instructions not to answer the phone until tomorrow morning and not to go anywhere.
The remaining Martinez’s started cleaning up with the TV on in the background. Sydney was right. Zach’s phone never stopped ringing until he turned it off. After everything was put away and all the dishes were done, they sat down again at the kitchen table. Mom got out a bottle of wine and three glasses. “Don’t call the league on me.” She said to Cassandra who was too young to drink. Zach and Cassandra laughed as they sloughed off the weight of the day. Cassandra drank her wine suspiciously fast, her mother noticed with a raised eyebrow. The girl stood up, gave her mother a hug and thanked her for everything.
“Give me a ride back to the academy tomorrow?” She said to her brother. “It’ll give me bragging rights if I’m seen with the wunderkind rookie.”
“One, I don’t have a car. Two, can’t you fly?” Zach said.
“C’mon!” Cassandra whined.
“Ok ok. I’ll see you in the morning.” He said in mock surrender.
“Thanks!” She squealed and gave him a huge hug around the neck. She whispered in his ear, “You deserve this.” He patted her arm, and she went upstairs.
Zach sat at the table with his mother for a long time. She was having trouble looking at him. Zach noticed.
“What’s wrong, Mom? You’ve been looking at me weird all day.” He said.
“It’s nothing, just…” She paused and sniffed, “You look so much like him.”
“Everyone keeps saying that.” He said. The sadness welled up again, and he squashed it down.
“Did you know your father didn’t want you to be a hero?” She said. Zach tilted his head. “It’s true.” His mother continued. “He didn’t want either of you to have powers. He knew you would feel the heaviness of responsibility. You just can’t help it.” Zach looked down at the tabletop. His mother reached over and picked up his head by the chin to meet his eyes. “But he was so proud when your powers manifested. He was happy that it brought you and your sister closer. He used to say that even if we were gone, you two would be a family.”
Zach gave her a small smile, and it went away. The reality of what was about to happen to him wasn’t in the future anymore. “Mom. No bullshit.” His mother sat back in her chair slightly uncomfortable with the vulgarity from her boy, but ready to hear what he had to say. “How am I supposed to live up to the GOAT? Hall of Famer. Four-time Hero of the Year. Adored by the world. What am I supposed to do?”
She laughed. Not at Zach, but at the question. “I was wondering when you were going to ask. I thought you’d come to me after your first year at the academy.” She wiped her hands on a dish towel and poured another glass of wine. “Son,” She took a swig. “The answer is easy: You don’t.”
“I don’t try to live up to dad’s legacy?” Zach asked like his mother was crazy.
“That’s right. If you’re worried about being as good as someone else, you’ll never be as good as you can be. Don’t be like him. Be like you.” She drained her glass and wiped her mouth. “Feel free to use that when the press asks you the same question. I’m going to bed. Good night.” She paused again, “Prodigy.” She smiled and gave him a kiss on the cheek.
He watched his mother climb the stairs and the light to the upstairs hall clicked off. Zach went to the living room and sat in front of the TV that was still on with the late night pontificators analyzing the day’s events. The “B-team” his dad called them. Another image of his father came on the screen side by side with a picture of him. They were both smiling, and Zach heard his mother’s voice saying his father’s thoughts. Be like you.
“I will, Dad. I promise.” They really did look alike.