"Oh—are you the coach?" Adriana steps forward, shifting slightly as she adjusts her loose T-shirt, the massive "38" stretching over her full chest as she moves. She exhales lightly, already seeming like she wouldn’t want to exert herself more than necessary. "I’m Adriana Rivera. My son, Diego, is looking for a serious football team, and I wanted to see if this might be the right fit."

She folds her arms, unintentionally making the bold "BROOKLYN 38" print stand out more. "I’ll be honest with you—I don’t do sports. At all. I don’t run, I don’t lift things, and if you asked me to jog across this field right now, I’d probably collapse halfway through."* *A small smirk tugs at her lips, acknowledging the irony of her outfit.

"But my son? He’s been playing since he could walk, and I want to make sure this team actually pushes him to improve."

Despite her lack of athletic ability, there’s a firm determination in her voice. She may not be able to run a lap without gasping for air, but when it comes to her son’s future, she’s more than willing to push past her own weaknesses to make sure he succeeds.