Let me tell you a story.
In 1977,
in a small town in Wisconsin,
a young couple learned they were going to be parents.
Their first child was a healthy baby boy who they named Kyle.
Soon after Kyle was born,
the couple decided to have more children.
And eventually, they were blessed.
After they had their baby girl, who they named Devon,
they desperately wanted another baby.
But unfortunately,
the couple was told having more children would be dangerous.
So they had a decision to make.
They would adopt a baby boy,
one who would fit right in with their son Kyle
and their daughter Devon.
But again, things didn't go as planned.
I'm sorry to have to inform you,
but the baby you were hoping for is no longer available for adoption.
But there is a second choice.
He's a few days old and his name is Colin.
We'll take him.
I share this story so you can understand this.
Since the day I was born, I've never been anybody's first choice.
Let's go, let's go!
Great job, great job!
That's the kind of effort we need in the playoffs. Way to go.
You know I got you, Coach.
Colin, can we get a couple of quick questions?
Uh... Yeah, sure.
Congratulations on the win.
Now, let's talk about your future.
You had countless scholarship offers to play college baseball
and we know that at least several of the major league teams
are considering drafting you next June.
But you've made it known you wanna play college football.
How does a three-sport star with a 4.0 GPA,
who also happened to be league MVP quarterback,
not have any offers to play football yet?
Um...
Honestly, that's not where my focus is right now, you know?
We got playoffs coming up soon.
And we're trying to win a championship. Isn't that right? Let's go!
That's where my focus is right now.
You handled that well, kid.
-Thanks, Dad. -You didn't tell them about Wisconsin?
Why didn't you tell them about the Wisconsin offer?
Because it's not an offer.
Is there anything to eat?
There's leftover tater tot hot dish.
No, there's not.
Come on, Dad.
There might be some leftover spaghetti.
You should have told them about the other offer.
Other schools hear that and they get interested.
It's not an offer, Mom.
Might as well be.
You're gonna end up there. I can feel it.
You'll be surrounded by line dancing and cowboy boots.
Okay. So the same thing as Turlock, then.
-Turlock with better cheese.
I can handle that.
-Hello. -Hey, it's Coach Alvarez.
Hey, Coach. We were just talking about you.
-I'd love to talk to Colin for a minute. -Yeah. Hold on.
I'll take it up in my room!
-He'll be right with you. -All right.
Thanks, Dad. I got it.
Hey, Coach.
How's it going?
This moment right here?
This is one of the happiest moments of my life.
But let me back up.
Before I could get an offer to play college football,
first I had to get noticed by coaches at a high school combine.
Set, go!
See that throwing motion?
Is he a quarterback or a pitcher?
Getting it where it needs to be.
With no 300 pound monsters breathing down his neck,
he's getting it where it needs to be.
Combine numbers look good. Quick. Athletic.
Set, go!
Maybe convert him to a wideout, DB?
I'm not saying he doesn't look good. He looks great.
But they'll break him in half in the Big Ten.
Set, go!
What do you think, Coach?
Might be something to work with.
Another way I could get noticed by schools
would be at one of their summer football camps.
-Fluid. -Here, here, you open it.
Okay.
"Dear Colin Kaepernick,
We were all impressed with your level of athleticism.
You'd be a great quarterback one day. We would like to invite you
-to our summer football camp." -Great news!
Congratulations, honey.
Hey, that looks like a lot of camp invites.
-I know. -Looks like word's getting out.
All I need is a chance to show them what I can do.
I got it from there.
-Which schools do you wanna go to? -All of them.
Sounds like a road trip.
Come on, let's not call it a road trip. Let's call it a business trip.
-What? Mom. -You got food on your face.
Come here. Give me a hug.
I'm proud of you.
I know. Thank you.
So that's what I did.
Set, go!
I went to every camp I could within driving distance of Turlock.
And I could show them what I could do.
I've never worked this hard in my life.
But the hardest part?
Waiting to hear if any of the schools were interested in me.
Just gonna call Mom.
She said she'd call if there was news.
Just a quick check.
All right. Don't talk too long.
Those roaming fees ain't cheap.
Hello?
-Hey. -Hey.
Anything?
Nothing yet.
Where to next?
-Nevada. -Ah.
Are you tired?
I'm fine.
Dad's running on fumes, though.
I'm fine!
I miss you.
Miss you too, Mom.
We'll be back home after Nevada.
Are you sure we haven't gotten anything yet?
I thought for sure we would've heard back from some schools by now.
You can't control that.
All you can do is get out there
and be the best that you can be, honey.
Mom.
Hmm?
How many rejections did I get?
Just a couple.
From who?
Actually, it doesn't matter.
Was Stanford one of them?
Yes.
Okay.
Okay, it doesn't matter.
Chin up, Colin.
Okay. I'll talk to you later. Bye.
On to the next.
-Set, go!
What the fuck was that?
That was some ugly shit, that's what that was.
First time I've ever felt bad for the pig that died to become a football.
Just plain ugly.
Your daddy should've just kept you in his ball sack
if this is what you're gonna contribute to football.
Run it again.
Set, go!
-There it is. -All right, all right!
Next!
That coach has a mouth on him, huh?
I think he likes you.
Maybe I'll just...
give up.
Work with you at the cheese factory.
It's gotta be easier than all of this.
What do you call a cheese that's sad?
-Come on. -Blue cheese.
You've told me this one before.
When do you got to be careful around cheese?
Please don't.
When it's up to no Gouda.
Just stop.
Okay, Colin.
Don't get excited.
Curd your enthusiasm.
Hey.
Coach Parker called.
They're having informal workouts tomorrow.
I don't care.
And someone from the University of California called.
They wanted to schedule a visit for you to try out.
What?
Bro, I'm telling you,
if I never get in the car again...
But how did it go?
How many offers did you get?
Uh, I'm just waiting to hear back.
I just gotta crush this Cal tryout next week.
You thinking about taking any baseball scholarships
if you don't get any football offers by November?
Set, go!
Yes.
Nice toss!
Stay there. I'll be right back.
Coach.
You gotta see this kid. I think he's our guy.
Yeah, but Riley committed.
What?
Kevin Riley. He committed last night.
Yeah, I know who Riley-- That's-- Wow.
I mean, that's a good get.
What should I tell him?
Never mind. I'll take care of it.
At some point, you get so used to rejection,
you can see it coming a mile away.
It was like no one would just give me a shot
to show them how good I could be.
And it didn't feel fair.
Hey.
Cal sucks anyway.
You telling me I can't even play for a team that sucks?
Apparently.
But I'm also saying don't worry about it.
You got your whole senior season to show the world you're a quarterback.
So show them.
Good morning.
Welcome back to school.
And welcome to AP Calculus.
Watch this.
This again.
Just shut up and listen.
You have a gift.
Your gift is a multi-million dollar arm.
And every school in the country wants that arm to pitch for them.
Imagine this.
It's November, baseball signing day, and you have no offers for football.
That's not gonna happen.
It's signing day.
Your classmates and some of your teammates are on stage
talking about what colleges they're going to.
All while you, the best athlete this town has ever produced,
just sits by and watches.
Is that what you want?
You wanna be somebody's second choice?
No. That's not what I want, Coach.
What I want is to be a quarterback.
I don't know what to say to you.
Every night, I pray...
"Please let this kid come to his senses."
But apparently that prayer falls on deaf ears.
Coach, I truly appreciate everything you've done for me.
I mean it.
Let me give you some advice, Kaepernick.
Don't wait.
Nobody who truly wanted anything waited for it. Just make it happen.
Yes, Coach.
He's right.
It's one thing seeing you in camps, Colin, but they need to see you playing a game.
You call your brother, tell him to get over here right now.
We got work to do.
Coach.
Thank you so much, sir.
Appreciate it.
I'm gonna need postage for all these, please.
-How many? -119.
Oh.
They'd be lucky to have you.
And that brings us back to this moment.
-Turlock with better cheese.
I can handle it.
-Hello. -Hey, it's Coach Alvarez.
Hey, Coach. We were just talking about you.
-I'd love to talk to Colin for a minute. -Yeah, hold on.
One of the happiest moments of my life.
Thanks, Dad. I got it.
Hey, Coach. How's it going?
I went to almost two dozen camps, clinics, combines, and showcases.
Sent DVDs to every school in the country.
And that summer, every school in the country passed.
Except for one.
Wisconsin.
They didn't pass until later.
Thank you.
Thank you, Coach.
Thank you for considering me.
Kick some ass in the playoffs. Go win a title.
They'll see you, Colin.
They're gonna see you.
Once again, the final score:
West 27, Pitman 22.
The playoffs continue for West,
but we may have just witnessed the last football game
of Pitman quarterback Colin Kaepernick's career.
Not the way he wanted to end it, but nevertheless,
he'll go down as one of the best Turlock has seen.
How are you?
I'll be all right.
-You guys play Atwater Saturday? -Yeah.
Yeah, they got that tall dude from Europe that plays for them.
Every school is looking at him.
You don't care, Jake. You only like the cheerleaders.
What's wrong with liking cheerleaders?
You don't like cheerleaders? Everyone likes cheerleaders.
I know Colin likes cheerleaders, right?
All right, man.
Enough of this shit.
-You've been in your feelings for weeks. -Ever since football season ended.
Honestly, it's depressing just looking at you.
Real talk.
Look, man, you balled out, you did all you could do.
This all feeling sorry for yourself shit has to stop.
I'm not feeling sorry for myself.
"I'm not feeling sorry for myself." You sound like you're about to cry.
Yeah, bro.
And it's not like your life is about to suck.
You're gonna be a rich Major League Baseball player.
I know you don't think baseball is cool and all, but you're wrong.
I dare you to go look at a 1992 Chipper Jones baseball card.
Tell me that's not the coolest looking dude in the world.
For real. Look him up.
Ever see Bull Durham?
-No. -Watch it.
There are some fine groupies in baseball. That's the minor leagues.
Imagine what the Major League groupies look like.
All flawless like Lindsay Lohan and Amanda Bynes.
You better not smile.
Give me one of those damn tacos.
I was about to say. Take one.
You have a game tomorrow.
A gentle breeze gets you sick.
You can be mad, but don't be stupid.
I'm fine.
And I'm a nurse.
There's a flu going around, Colin.
Trust me, you don't want it.
All right. I'm just gonna be a few more minutes.
I know you feel like...
all your hard work was for nothing.
It will be if you let it.
Put on a damn coat or get your ass in the house.
Damn, negro. What's wrong with you?
I'm sick.
Yeah, no shit.
I tried to tell him.
Yes!
You wanted to see me, Coach?
It's for you.
Well? Where the fuck is he?
Hello?
Is this Kaepernick?
Kaepernick, yeah.
Yeah, this is Coach Ault,
football coach at Nevada.
Yeah, I heard maybe I don't need to feel sorry for the pigs anymore.
One of my guys saw your basketball game
and thinks you'd be a good fit with us.
You think you're a QB, right?
Yes. Yes, sir. I know I am.
I've been told you could always play DB or safety if you choke.
No, that won't happen.
All I need is a shot. That's all I ever needed.
All right.
Well, you got one now.
Talk soon.
-I'm playing football for Nevada. -Yes!
-I'm playing football for Nevada! -Yes!
I'm playing football for Nevada!
-Yes! -Oh, my God!
Way to go!
-Oh, my God! -Yeah!
-I'm gonna be a QB!
I'm gonna be a QB!
While I was in high school, I felt a lot of different emotions.
Mom!
I'm playing for Nevada!
Whoo!
It was a rollercoaster.
Sometimes fun.
Sometimes scary.
But you know what?
I wouldn't trade those moments for anything.
Dear Colin.
Trust your power.
Even when you don't see it, believe it.
Because you're going to need it.
From your earliest days, rejection will follow you.
And it will be there through every step of your journey.
It will come from people who love you.
Because you look like a thug!
It'll come from people who don't think you belong.
Colin Kaepernick. Freshman team.
It'll even come from a girl or two.
But rejection is not failure.
It's a calibrator.
It can help you learn who you are and what you want.
And there's something you want more than anything.
You want to be a quarterback.
Your path will sometimes be rough.
But trust your power.
When you face rejection and feel like you wanna quit...
trust your power.
And when you see that you're rarely anyone's first choice...
trust your power.
I promise you...
when they say you're not their first choice...
you will show them that you were the right choice.
You will earn the title of quarterback at the highest level.
You will be a trailblazer.
Don't throw your back out.
I'm fine.
I'll miss you, Mom, all right?
I love you, Dad.
But while you focus on becoming a quarterback...
something else will be happening.
Something extraordinary.
Something that you can feel,
but don't have the words or wisdom to articulate.
You will learn to love who you are,
and not give a damn that who you are makes some people uncomfortable.
You will know no matter how much people try to control you...
Is that what you want? You wanna be somebody's second choice?
...that they cannot break you.
And you will learn to find beauty
in places where the world tells you there is none.
And because of these things...
you will know when people try to tell you when and where you can be a quarterback,
it doesn't matter.
Because you will see...
you are more than a quarterback.
Much more.
Trust your power.
Love your Blackness.
You will know who you are.
Sincerely, Colin.