MD - Chapter 271: Decision DayMarch 16
Big chapter: 10k words
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[Monroe Family Home]
Derek, one of UCLA's main recruiters, woke up early on Monday, December 12.
Normally, as a recruiter, his schedule was fairly flexible. It wasn't a traditional office job; many times he could organize his day with relative freedom. But December was not a normal month. It was the most intense period of the recruiting cycle.
Many prospects were making their final decisions about which university they would attend, signing periods were approaching, and for UCLA everything was even more chaotic this year. After four seasons, the program had just changed its staff.
On Saturday they had lost the Pac-12 Championship Game, and the very next day the university had hired Jim Mora.
All of that was happening right in the middle of the most important recruiting process the program had faced in years.
For Derek, in truth, it was the most important of his entire career at the institution.
Because something much bigger than a simple recruit was at stake.
They were trying to convince the best prospect in the history of high school football.
Andrew Pritchett-Tucker.
Without a doubt, it was the most important recruiting battle not only for UCLA, but also for every university Andrew had officially visited and that was still in the race.
Derek was practically eating breakfast with his phone in his hand.
He was answering messages and checking emails.
Many prospects who were considering UCLA had doubts after the coaching staff change. They wanted to know whether their situation would remain the same as what they had discussed with the previous coaching staff.
It was a valid concern.
When a new staff arrives, everything can change. A recruit who was a priority for the previous coach might no longer be one if the new staff sees the game differently or has different needs for their system.
The only prospects who were truly safe from that uncertainty were elite talents.
Players like Andrew, or like Steve.
The kind of players that any staff, no matter who was in charge, would want to recruit immediately.
"Your shirt is wrinkled, honey," said Angela, his wife.
Derek, who was typing quickly on his phone while replying to messages, looked down. He noticed that his shirt did indeed have several creases.
"It's fine…" he muttered.
He had to leave in a few minutes and didn't want to waste time ironing his shirt.
"It's not fine," Angela replied as she closed her briefcase, also getting ready to leave for work. "Today you have your first meeting with the new head coach, and it'll probably be with the whole staff. You need to look presentable."
Derek paused for a moment to think.
She was right.
Today would be the first formal meeting with Mora and the new members of the staff he had begun to hire. The program's recruiters would also be present.
And when a new head coach arrives, it's always better to make a good impression.
Although, in practice, the recruiting staff usually wasn't automatically fired when the head coach changed. Those kinds of positions depended more on the athletic department than on the head coach. Recruiting was always ongoing and needed continuity.
And Derek, with his résumé, including discovering Andrew, was practically guaranteed to keep his position and simply report to the new staff.
Even so, it didn't hurt to look professional.
"Alright," Derek finally said, getting up from the chair and walking toward the bedroom, still holding his phone.
He entered the room, placed the phone on the bed, and quickly took off his shirt to start ironing it.
As he ran the iron over the fabric, focused on smoothing out the wrinkles, the phone began to ring.
It didn't surprise him too much. It was normal: recruits, high school coaches, other staff members... the calls were constant.
He calmly turned his head toward the bed, where the glowing screen vibrated on the sheets. But the moment he read the name, he froze.
Andrew Pritchett-Tucker.
For a second he didn't move. Then he dropped the iron almost by reflex, leaving it resting on the shirt, and grabbed the phone with both hands, which were now trembling slightly.
He looked again at the screen, making sure he wasn't misreading it. It was real.
'It can only mean one thing… not two,' Derek thought, swallowing.
The first, the amazing one, was that Andrew was calling to say he had made his decision and had chosen UCLA.
The second, the bad one, was that he was calling to say he hadn't chosen them.
Yes, you should call to let them know you didn't choose that university, it's a matter of courtesy.
It would be inconsiderate for the universities Andrew had visited to find out the same way as everyone else.
'Stop thinking and answer,' Derek told himself.
He was about to pick up the call, but the phone nearly slipped from his hands.
"Shit," he muttered under his breath.
By reflex he managed to catch it before it hit the floor. He took a deep breath once and slid his finger to answer.
"Hello, Andrew. What's up?" he greeted, trying to make his voice sound as normal as possible.
He straightened up almost automatically as Andrew began to speak.
"Hmm," Derek nodded quietly.
A brief pause. "I see…"
A few seconds later, "That… that's great."
He tried to stay professional. As if it were just another recruiting conversation, even though his pulse was still racing.
The call was short, less than five minutes.
At the end Derek simply said, "Thanks for telling me first, and thank you for choosing us."
The call ended.
For a second the phone remained pressed against his ear. Then his arm slowly lowered until it hung at his side, the phone pointing toward the floor.
A moment later he tossed it onto the bed without looking.
He stood still, staring at a fixed point on the wall. One second passed, then two, until he finally reacted.
A huge smile appeared on his face, a mix of disbelief and excitement.
He brought his hands together in front of his mouth, as if trying to contain the reaction.
Then he began clapping softly to himself, still processing what had just happened.
"Why are you taking so long…?" Angela said as she entered the room.
But after only a couple of steps inside, her brow furrowed.
"What is that burning smell?"
Her gaze immediately went to the bed. The iron was still resting on the shirt.
"It's on, Derek, for God's sake!" she exclaimed, rushing over to lift it.
Underneath, the fabric had been marked with a dark stain where the heat had stayed too long.
Angela turned off the iron and looked back at her husband. Then she noticed his expression. Derek didn't even seem to realize what had happened to the shirt. He still looked excited.
"What happened?" she asked, now more confused than annoyed.
Derek looked directly at her.
"He chose us."
Angela's eyes widened. If Derek said he chose us, he could only be talking about one thing, a football prospect who had decided to play for UCLA. And out of all the players in the country, only one could cause a reaction like that in her husband.
"Seriously?! Andrew?" Angela added.
Derek nodded. "The one and only."
"Oh my God, that's huge!" Angela said, immediately walking toward him. "Congratulations!"
She hugged him tightly, knowing perfectly well what it meant, for UCLA, for the moment the football program was going through, and for her husband, a passionate sports fan and devoted Bruins supporter.
Derek returned the hug with the same intensity. Then he pulled away and practically rushed to the closet. He grabbed another shirt and quickly put it on, not even bothering to check whether it was wrinkled or not.
"This is huge," he said as he walked out of the room with Angela. "It's going to completely change this morning's meeting."
The meeting with Mora had been planned as a discussion about the state of the program, how to reorganize recruiting after the coaching change, which prospects were priorities, and what direction they wanted to take the team in over the next few years.
But now everything had changed.
Because barely a day after Mora's hiring, they already had certainty that the best prospect in the country, and in history, had chosen UCLA.
That changed absolutely everything.
They walked downstairs into the kitchen and noticed their daughter, Jade, sitting at the table having breakfast before heading to school. A cup of coffee sat in front of her, and she wore the typical expression of someone who clearly wasn't in the mood at seven in the morning.
She took a sip of her coffee while watching her parents walk in with more energy than usual.
Her expression was completely flat.
"Why all the commotion?" Jade asked in an irritated tone.
"Guess what!?" Derek said with a huge grin he couldn't hide.
Jade looked at him with a monotone expression that probably could have frozen anyone in place.
"Mom's pregnant."
"What?" Derek asked, blinking in confusion. "No! Not that! Your man chose us!"
"My man?" Jade murmured, raising one eyebrow slightly.
But she already knew perfectly well what her father meant.
That Andrew had chosen UCLA.
It was the only possible answer.
And the truth was, she wasn't too surprised that Andrew had made the decision so quickly. Ever since the state championship ended, and especially after everything that happened with Mora's hiring, it was very much like him to make a decision that fast and that decisively.
What did confuse her a little was hearing her father say "your man."
They weren't dating. Not yet. They had only been getting to know each other for a little over a month. Sure, they had already kissed and even slept together, but neither of them had said they were officially in a relationship.
"Congratulations," Jade said simply.
And for her, that was already saying quite a lot.
She knew perfectly well what it meant for her father, even though she never quite understood why a sport could generate so much excitement in people.
"Thanks!" Derek said, grabbing his things. "I'm heading out. Today's a big day."
He first walked over to Angela and gave her a quick kiss. Then he leaned toward Jade and kissed her on the forehead.
Jade immediately looked at him with an expression suggesting she was half a second away from grabbing the butter knife nearby and stabbing him with it.
But Derek was faster and didn't give her the chance. He was already heading out the door.
He needed to go to the UCLA offices to tell Mora the news. Something like that wasn't the kind of thing you announced over the phone.
Jade took another sip of her coffee, looking toward the door where her father had disappeared.
"Way too much excitement just for signing a prospect," she muttered.
Angela looked at her curiously, "A recruit?" she repeated. "You say it like he's just another one. And you're talking about the guy you're seeing."
Jade shrugged, "I know Andrew isn't a normal recruit. He's the best. My point is that Dad reacts like UCLA has already won something just because Andrew chose to go there. Like he alone is going to fix a program that hasn't won anything in years."
"You're worried about Andrew," Angela said with a smile.
Jade frowned immediately.
"No."
"It's not a bad thing to be honest once in a while. It's true that a lot of people are putting too much pressure on him. He's just a kid who's about to turn eighteen. But you have to understand your father," Angela said.
Jade didn't respond, but she was listening.
"He's been following Andrew since he was a sophomore," Angela continued. "Two whole years trying to convince him to come to UCLA. And not just that. Your father has spent more than ten years working in recruiting, watching the program try to become competitive again and never quite manage it."
Angela leaned lightly against the counter, "And before all of that, he was a student at UCLA. He played on the football team there. For him, it's not just work. Seeing a player like Andrew choose UCLA, for your father, it's seeing a real chance for the program to become competitive again."
Jade nodded, understanding the point. Then she looked back at her breakfast.
"Even so, it's still way too much pressure for someone who hasn't even started college yet," she murmured.
…
7:24 a.m.
Athletic Department Offices — UCLA
In Dan Guerrero's office, the morning had already been underway for a while. The window let in the cold December light over a campus that was still quiet.
Sitting across the desk, Mora held a cup of coffee as they talked.
They had met at seven in the morning. More than twenty minutes had already passed discussing the state of the program and the next steps for UCLA's football team.
"First real day on the job," Mora said with a small smile. "And it already feels like three weeks have gone by."
Dan let out a light chuckle. "Welcome to UCLA."
Mora leaned back slightly in his chair, thinking about everything that lay ahead of him that day. It was only the beginning and already there was a mountain of decisions to make.
Then he stood up.
"I'm going to go get the meeting with the staff ready."
He had a pretty clear idea of what he wanted to tell them. He would talk about the program's culture, about discipline, about the expectations he had for the team, about how he wanted recruiting to function under his leadership. The basics needed to start building something new.
Dan nodded while turning slightly toward his laptop, "If anything important comes up, let me know."
As the university's athletic director, he had far too many matters to deal with throughout the day. UCLA had many sports programs, not just football, although it was obvious that the football team generated the most media attention and revenue.
Mora nodded, understanding perfectly what he meant. If something truly important came up, especially something related to recruiting, Dan would want to know.
"Of course," he replied.
Mora left the office and closed the door behind him.
As he walked down the hallway of the athletic department building, heading toward the room where he would meet with the staff, he began thinking about what he saw as the top priority: the offense and the quarterback position.
He had already studied the entire roster at his disposal in depth. The defense, at least on paper, had some of the best players on the team and a good level of individual talent.
The problem wasn't talent. It was consistency and the system they had been playing in over the last few years.
So while defensive recruiting was always important, it wasn't something that kept him up at night at the moment. There was already an interesting defensive core to work with and build something solid around.
And defense was his specialty.
The team's real problem was on the other side of the ball.
The offense.
He had seen it while reviewing games from the Neuheisel era. Four years of an attack that, aside from isolated moments, had been one of the most inconsistent and least productive in the conference.
The current starting quarterback was Kevin Prince. With the season just finished, Prince had already completed three years in the program. In the most recent campaign he finished with 1,828 passing yards, 12 touchdowns, and 8 interceptions. He had started ten games, though he was injured during one of them and ended up missing two more due to physical issues.
Prince would return for one more year, meaning he would enter his fourth season in the program.
It wasn't a particularly promising option. Experience was always valuable, but injuries had been a constant problem throughout his career. He had a fairly solid sophomore year, but since then he had never managed to maintain consistency or take the leap the program needed at the position.
Then there was Brett Hundley. This year he had been a freshman but hadn't played a single snap, so he had redshirted the season. That meant he would now be a redshirt freshman, after a full year of physical preparation and adapting to the college level.
Mora had seen enormous physical talent in him. Size, speed, and a strong arm. With the right development he could become a very dangerous quarterback. In fact, he would likely compete with Prince for the starting job once practices began.
But when Mora thought about recruiting at the quarterback position, his mind always returned to the same name.
Pritchett-Tucker.
If he chose them, everything would change.
But there was also the possibility that he wouldn't.
That was why there always had to be a Plan B.
Although, being completely honest with himself, he didn't like that Plan B very much. Because part of the reason he had managed to convince Norm Chow to come to UCLA was precisely the possibility of working with Andrew.
Chow was one of the most respected offensive coordinators in college football. His system was based on a pro-style offense, much more structured, centered on reading defenses, route timing, and quarterback precision.
It was a system that required a technical quarterback, disciplined and with a very high football IQ.
Andrew fit that mold perfectly.
Because although he had impressive athletic ability and could run when a play required it, his speed, agility, and ability to evade defenders were among the best, his real strength lay in his arm, his decision-making, his accuracy, and the way he read and controlled the game.
But if Andrew ultimately chose another university, then the situation would change quite a bit. Fully implementing Chow's pro-style system with the current personnel would be much more difficult. Neither Prince nor Hundley were exactly that type of quarterback. Both were more athletic and physical.
In that scenario, the most logical move would probably have been to hire an offensive coordinator with a system closer to a spread offense, something better suited to that type of player.
'Well… we'll adapt over the next few days,' Mora thought with a sigh as he walked down the hallway.
They would probably know Andrew's decision in the coming days. And from that point they could set the program's offensive plan one hundred percent.
Turning the corner of the hallway, he arrived at the staff meeting room. He pushed the door open and stepped inside.
Several members of the new coaching staff were already there, along with the program's recruiting personnel. They were talking among themselves while reviewing folders, laptops, and notes about the different prospects and players on the roster.
Chow was there as well.
Chow's case was, to say the least, curious.
The veteran offensive coordinator, now 65 years old, had been UCLA's offensive coordinator just a few months earlier. He had originally been hired by the previous head coach, Rick Neuheisel, in 2008. At the time the situation had caused quite a stir because USC had also entered the race to hire him, but Chow had chosen UCLA.
The experiment, however, hadn't turned out the way many had expected.
In the last season Chow served as offensive coordinator, 2010, the Bruins had been a major disappointment. UCLA finished that year 116th out of 120 teams nationally in passing yards, a statistic that many analysts felt clearly reflected that the offensive system had never truly worked.
In January 2011, Chow decided to leave for the Utah Utes football program.
For many coaches and analysts, the problem hadn't been Chow as a coordinator. The problem had been trying to implement a pro-style offensive system without having the type of quarterback that system required. Over the course of his career, Chow had developed elite quarterbacks, including Heisman winners like Matt Leinart.
But at UCLA he had never had a quarterback with that profile or level of talent.
Now, however, he was back with the program.
And it wasn't a secret within the staff that one of the reasons he had agreed to return was the possibility of working with a quarterback who truly fit his system.
If Andrew ultimately chose another university, the situation would become rather ironic.
Chow would have returned to exactly the same place he had decided to leave, and once again he would have quarterbacks with whom implementing his offensive playbook fully would be very difficult.
"Good morning," Mora said as he walked toward the table.
The conversations in the room lowered almost immediately. Several coaches and staff members looked up at him.
Some responded with a nod, others with a simple "morning, coach."
When Mora passed by Chow, he paused for a moment.
"How are you, Norm?"
Chow looked up with his usual expression, almost stoic.
"Good, Jim," he replied calmly. "Ready to get started."
There was still a hint of tension in his words, as there were doubts surrounding his return to UCLA. The offense had been one of the worst in the country, and he had been criticized for how rigid he could be with his pro-style system. It was obvious he had taken a big gamble by coming back.
Even so, he remained a respected figure in college football.
Mora continued to the end of the long table and took the seat at the head. He placed both hands on the table and looked around.
"Alright, is everyone here?"
A few people glanced around the room.
One of the assistants replied, "Derek's missing. One of the recruiters."
At that exact moment, the meeting room door suddenly swung open.
Everyone turned their heads.
Derek stepped in, nearly bumping into the doorframe. He was clearly out of breath, breathing faster than normal as if he had practically run down the hallway.
One of his colleagues from the recruiting staff stood up when he saw him like that.
"What's going on, man?" he asked, frowning at Derek's condition.
"I've got news," Derek replied, exhaling sharply as he caught his breath.
He had arrived a little late to the meeting and had to hurry to get there. He closed the door behind him and looked around the room.
His gaze finally settled on the head coach.
Mora raised an eyebrow slightly.
Several of the people who had been seated reviewing tablets, reports, or folders immediately lifted their heads. Some even straightened up in their chairs.
The entire room was listening.
"How do I say it..."
"Derek, the news," one of the assistants said impatiently.
Everyone knew that Derek was the member of the staff who had the closest relationship with Andrew. If anyone was going to receive the call with the final decision, it would be him.
Derek shook his head slightly, as if organizing his thoughts.
Then he said it.
"Andrew chose us."
For a second, nobody spoke.
The silence in the room became almost tangible. Mora stared at him.
"Pritchett-Tucker?" someone asked from the other side of the table, as if needing to confirm the obvious.
Derek looked at him. "Yes. Who else?"
Another coach leaned forward.
"When?"
"Just now," Derek replied. "Less than an hour ago he called me saying he chose us and asked if I could let the head coach know."
The silence fell over the room again for another moment.
Then someone murmured, "That's incredible."
And suddenly the built-up tension broke. Several laughs escaped at the same time.
A couple of coaches slapped high fives.
Others began talking all at once.
"Let's go!"
"That's huge!"
"We got him!"
In one corner, Chow clenched his fist tightly and moved it slightly downward in a restrained gesture of celebration.
Finally.
Ever since Andrew had been at Mater Dei, he had watched his games, every play, every read he made on the field.
What he saw was something that, in his entire career coaching quarterbacks, he had only encountered a few times.
Pure talent.
He had worked with great players before, even Heisman winners. But Andrew was different. He had a combination of arm strength, field vision, and calm under pressure that fascinated him as a coach.
And now, finally, he had that quarterback in his program.
At the head of the table, Mora let out a genuine smile. He stood up from his chair and walked over to Derek.
He gave him two firm pats on the shoulder.
"Excellent work."
Around them the rest of the staff continued reacting. Some were still laughing in disbelief, others were talking among themselves, and a couple remained silent as if they were still processing the news.
They hadn't expected to find out so soon. And even less that Andrew had chosen them.
They knew they were one of the five universities Andrew had officially visited, so technically they had a chance. But nobody on the staff had allowed themselves to assume anything.
Historically, the Bruins had rarely won recruiting battles for the best players in the country. The number-one prospects usually ended up at powerhouse programs like Alabama, USC, Ohio State, Georgia, Texas, and other giants.
That's why what had just happened wasn't simply a good recruiting win.
They had just won the battle for the best recruit in the history of the program.
Mora took a few steps toward the door, but before leaving he stopped. He turned back toward the room and raised a hand.
"Listen to me for a second, please."
The conversations gradually died down until the room was quiet again. There were still smiles, but everyone was looking at him.
"This is excellent news. We have the best high school player in the country, and today is literally our first day here."
A few murmurs of approval ran through the room.
"That's not just another recruit. It's the real beginning of rebuilding this program," Mora continued.
Several people nodded.
"But," he added, raising one finger slightly, "this can't leave this room yet. Dan told me ESPN asked something specific from all the universities that were in Andrew's final decision. If one of them was chosen, they had to contact them. They want to do a special where he announces his decision officially live."
Some understood immediately.
"So for now," Mora continued, "this stays inside this circle."
Everyone nodded.
"Good. I'm going to let Dan know."
He opened the door and stepped into the hallway.
As he walked away, the door closed behind him, and for a moment he could hear the enthusiastic conversation that had erupted inside the room. They were probably congratulating Derek, asking him for more details about the call and how this would change UCLA's future.
Mora's stride was different now. The tension he had been carrying since accepting the job seemed to have lifted all at once.
He walked a few more steps and, unable to help himself, clenched his fist tightly as he moved down the hallway.
"Hell yes!" he muttered to himself, pumping his fist.
A second later he seemed to realize what he had just done.
He coughed lightly, adjusted his shirt as if nothing had happened, and continued walking with a steady pace toward Dan's office.
…
Later that same day, outside Notre Dame High School, around three in the afternoon, the school day was ending and students were beginning to leave in small groups through the main entrance.
Among the cars parked in front of the school, one stood out immediately.
A bright yellow Camaro.
Leaning casually against the side of the car was Andrew. His hands were in his pockets, his back resting against the vehicle as he calmly watched the students coming out.
Many eyes turned toward him as the students passed by. Everyone recognized him immediately.
It was hard not to.
Andrew wasn't just the most famous high school quarterback in the country at that moment, arguably even more famous than many college players. He also had one of the biggest YouTube channels in the world, and his face had appeared on television and across social media all season long.
Without a doubt, this had been the year with the most exposure for him.
Between the flashy car, his relaxed presence, and his fame, he drew attention without even trying.
"That's Andrew Pritchett-Tucker…"
"Yeah, that's him."
"Come with me, let's ask for a picture."
"No, it looks like he's waiting for someone. Let's not bother him."
Andrew barely reacted to the looks and murmurs. He was already quite used to it.
A few minutes later the person he had come to see finally appeared: Steve. He was wearing his school uniform and had his bag slung over his shoulder.
He noticed Andrew and walked toward him, a smile forming on his face.
"Hey, man," he greeted, giving him a firm handshake. "Is there any way to attract more attention? Because honestly, I don't think there is."
Andrew let out a small laugh, "Hey, it's not my fault. It's the Camaro's fault. When I bought it I didn't realize how flashy it was."
Steve raised an eyebrow, "Dude… in the Transformers movie they literally show you what happens when that car shows up. Everyone looks at it."
Andrew stayed silent for a second.
"Yeah, I know," he finally said. "But when I bought it I was too deep in my fanboy phase to think about that."
They didn't stretch the conversation much longer. Both got into the car. That afternoon they had a double date: Andrew with Jade, and Steve with one of her friends.
The Camaro's engine roared softly when Andrew started it.
As the car began to move, Steve rolled down the window and rested his arm on the door.
"I already chose a university," Andrew said casually.
Steve immediately turned his head to look at him, "Which one?"
"UCLA."
Steve thought about it for a second. Then he nodded slowly and a smile appeared on his face.
"So we're staying in the city. I like that," he said, enthusiasm in his voice.
Then his excitement rose a little more as he started imagining the possibilities.
"We're going to wake up the giant!" he added. "Although… I'm not sure if you can really call them a giant."
Andrew smiled slightly.
UCLA had only one recognized national championship, in 1954. They also had 17 conference titles, but the last one had come in 1998. Their best modern era had been during the 1980s and 1990s, and since the 2000s the program had been fairly inconsistent.
Andrew turned the wheel slightly as they made a turn.
"I'd say it is a sleeping giant," he said calmly. "It has history, it's one of the most prestigious universities in the country, it has a lot of money, they've had years finishing in the top ten regularly, and they play at the Rose Bowl Stadium. That's already quite a lot."
"Fair point," Steve said.
There were universities that didn't even have a single national title in their entire history. And others that had fewer than five conference championships.
"I'll have to call them today for my verbal commitment," Steve commented. "And let the guys know! The group stays together, baby."
By the guys, he meant Leonard and Howard.
He immediately pulled out his phone and started typing in their group chat.
Andrew glanced at him with a slight smile.
For a while now, Steve had become well integrated into the small nerd circle they had formed with Leonard and Howard. They spent hours playing video games, League of Legends, especially, organizing small LAN parties, watching movies, or simply talking about anything.
Not everything was football.
And Andrew also knew what that news would mean for them.
Among Howard's options were MIT and UCLA, and Andrew knew Howard hadn't fully decided yet because he was waiting for Andrew's decision.
If both of them stayed in Los Angeles, it was very likely that Howard would do the same and study engineering at UCLA.
The same with Leonard, who would probably now choose Caltech.
The group would stay together.
Andrew saw Steve put his phone away after sending the message to the group.
"So how do you see the date today? Do you think Cat is your special person?" Andrew asked with a slightly exaggerated tone.
Steve let out a small laugh, "Cat is great. She's pretty, she's sweet, but I don't know. I feel like I'm too impure to be with her. You know what I mean?"
Andrew looked at him for a moment with a strange expression, "Impure? Dude, we play League of Legends almost every day and throw LAN parties by putting all the computers in my room. It's not like we're wild party animals or something."
"Yeah, yeah, I know," Steve said, shrugging. "But who knows what it'll be like in college. There are fraternities, parties… who knows, maybe I'll lose control a little."
Andrew snorted lightly, "Fraternities?"
There was a certain tone of disdain in his voice.
Andrew was extremely disciplined. Everything in his life was carefully calculated: training, studying, food, and rest. Even in his free time he preferred quiet activities, hanging out at home, video games, board games, movies with friends, or spending time with his family.
Big parties, alcohol, and that more chaotic college lifestyle seemed to him, at the very least, like unnecessary distractions.
In high school he occasionally went to a party to keep the group connected, but only because he could afford it given his exceptional level.
But in college things would be different.
"We're going to UCLA to do something big, Steve. If we want to change that program and be remembered, we'll have to be much more focused than in high school. Much less room for distractions," Andrew said.
Steve sighed, "Yeah, I know."
He looked out the window for a few seconds before adding in an exaggeratedly tragic tone, "So much power in the palm of our hands and we can't even use it."
"Power?" Andrew repeated.
"You know: girls, parties, fraternities, the whole glorious college life we could be having," Steve replied.
"Hey, right now I'm dating a goth girl that probably every guy would want to conquer and who is basically impossible to impress," Andrew said with an amused smile. "And I didn't have to go to a single party for that."
Steve looked at him for a few seconds, "Well said."
There was a brief silence. Steve leaned his head back against the seat, thoughtful.
"Although now that I think about it, maybe what we do is worse," he commented.
"Explain."
"Tell me, what's more destructive for mental health: a party with alcohol, girls, and probably drugs, or four- or five-hour League of Legends sessions with toxic players where you end up completely tilted?"
Andrew stayed silent for a second. Then he laughed and replied, "LoL."
Steve nodded with satisfaction, "Exactly. In the end, parties might actually be healthier than LoL."
Andrew shook his head while smiling, and the Camaro continued down the street.
The drive toward Jade's school continued. The rest of the day passed relatively normally. But the next day, the news many people had been waiting for began to take public shape.
That morning, ESPN officially announced a special.
A live program dedicated exclusively to Andrew's decision.
Titled: "The Decision: Andrew Pritchett-Tucker."
The network announced that the program would air on December 15 at 3:30 p.m. (Los Angeles time) from the campus of Mater Dei.
The news quickly spread across social media, recruiting forums, and sports shows.
The anticipation grew even more until the day finally arrived.
…
December 15 — 3:30 p.m.
Los Angeles
The broadcast began right on time.
The ESPN logo appeared on the screen accompanied by intense music typical of college football specials. Then the image transitioned to the ESPN Recruiting Nation studio, prepared specifically for that afternoon's program.
The set had several giant screens behind the analysts' desk showing images of Andrew: highlights from his games, deep throws, celebrations with his teammates, and clips from his YouTube videos that had become very famous.
On one of the screens the title of the special could be seen:
"The Decision: Andrew Pritchett-Tucker."
The studio lights were sober and bluish, and the curved desk where the analysts were seated had the ESPN logo illuminated on the front.
At the center of the panel sat the host.
Rece Davis, a well-known ESPN sports journalist, looked at the camera with a professional smile.
"Good afternoon everyone, and welcome to this special edition of Recruiting Nation," he began. "Today is the day when the most followed high school quarterback in the country will announce his college decision."
One of the screens behind him showed an image of Andrew lifting the state championship trophy with Mater Dei.
"In just a few minutes we'll be connecting live to Mater Dei High School, where Andrew Pritchett-Tucker will reveal which university he'll be taking his talents to."
Rece paused briefly and then added, "But first we're going to analyze everything surrounding this decision, one of the most anticipated we've seen in years. In fact, the most anticipated I've seen in my career."
He turned slightly toward the rest of the desk.
"And for that I'm joined by three of the most knowledgeable voices in recruiting in the country."
He pointed to the first.
"Tom Luginbill, one of the leading analysts of young talent in high school and college football."
Then the next.
"Craig Haubert, specialist in national rankings and recruiting class evaluations."
And finally the last member of the panel.
"And former college quarterback and ESPN analyst Jesse Palmer."
The camera briefly panned across the four men seated at the desk.
Rece looked back at the camera.
"Gentlemen, the entire country is waiting to find out where Andrew Pritchett-Tucker will play. A quarterback who has not only dominated high school football, but has also become one of the most followed young figures on the internet, if not the most."
"Tom, I'll start with you. You've evaluated hundreds of quarterbacks in recruiting. How special is this kid really?"
Tom, a man with black-framed glasses and short brown hair, let out a small laugh before answering, "Very special, Rece. Probably the most special I've seen in my entire career."
He briefly looked at his colleagues, who nodded thoughtfully, and then turned back toward the camera.
"To put Pritchett-Tucker into perspective… this season he played 14 games. He threw 62 touchdown passes and ran for 13 more, for a total of 75 touchdowns. He passed for 5,420 yards and rushed for 990, totaling 6,410 yards of offense."
The numbers appeared on the screen behind them.
"He also completed 79% of his passes and threw only two interceptions all season."
Rece raised a hand slightly, "And on top of that, add three championships in the same year: league, section, and state."
"Exactly," Tom nodded.
There was a brief silence at the desk.
Rece raised his eyebrows, "These numbers look like something out of a video game."
"I've never seen a high school quarterback this efficient," Jesse Palmer commented. The tall analyst with neatly styled hair and a short trimmed beard leaned slightly forward.
Craig Haubert, a middle-aged bald man, tilted his head slightly before speaking, "I'm not entirely sure I agree with that."
Jesse turned toward him, "Why?"
The other two analysts also looked at him with curiosity.
"Because we have seen high school quarterbacks put up enormous numbers. For example, the case of the Mauk brothers. Maty Mauk threw 69 touchdowns in a season in 2010. And another recent example is Johnny Manziel, who finished his final high school season with 75 total touchdowns," Craig replied.
"Yes, I know," Jesse said. "But I still stand by my point. None of them were as efficient as Pritchett."
"Explain," Craig replied, interlacing his fingers on the desk.
Jesse took a breath before continuing, "First, a simple question. How many interceptions did Manziel and Mauk have in those seasons?"
Tom thought for a moment, "Mauk had six interceptions. Manziel had five."
Jesse nodded, "Alright. What was their completion percentage?"
Rece looked down at the tablet in front of him before answering, "Manziel: 65.7%. Mauk: 65.1%."
Jesse raised a hand, pointing slightly toward them, "That's my point. Andrew threw only two interceptions the entire season and completed 79% of his passes. His efficiency is far superior to quarterbacks with similar touchdown numbers."
He paused for a moment.
"And that's not even my main argument. Most high school quarterbacks we see putting up massive numbers are playing in spread offenses. Very open systems, fast tempo, lots of simple reads, screens, short passes, and a lot of scrambling."
"That's true," Tom commented. "Manziel was an incredible improviser, but out of those 75 touchdowns, 30 were rushing."
Jesse nodded, "Andrew played at Mater Dei, which has run a pro-style offense for decades. Full-field reads, progressions, intermediate and deep throws from the pocket. It's not a system designed to inflate statistics. It's designed to prepare quarterbacks for college and eventually the NFL."
"Good point," Rece said. "That's the difference explaining why Andrew is now the number-one prospect in the country, a five-star recruit, while the Mauk brothers or Manziel were evaluated as three- or four-star prospects during their high school careers."
Jesse turned slightly toward Craig, "Let me ask you something, Craig. Do you think Manziel, the Mauk brothers, or any of those quarterbacks with extremely high touchdown seasons could have produced the same numbers in a pro-style system against elite competition, not at mid-level programs?"
Craig smiled slightly, "Alright, Jesse. You win. Pritchett is the most efficient quarterback."
Craig was technically right that in terms of total touchdowns there had been even higher single-season totals in high school football. Some quarterbacks had thrown as many as eighty touchdowns in a season.
But when the other numbers were examined, the difference became clear. Completion percentage and, above all, the extremely low number of interceptions were where Andrew clearly separated himself from those cases.
And that was without even considering the competitive context. Andrew had produced those numbers while playing against far stronger competition than most quarterbacks who recorded seasons with such high touchdown totals.
Tom then jumped back into the discussion, "And for the people who only want to look at statistics without context, Andrew still comes out on top."
Rece turned his head toward him, "What do you mean?"
Tom glanced down at the tablet in front of him and began reviewing the numbers.
First, he mentioned Andrew's freshman year at Palisades, a program that had barely won anything before his arrival.
Freshman Year — Palisades
72 touchdowns
4,580 passing yards
1,045 rushing yards
5,625 total yards
4 interceptions
Then he continued with the next year.
Sophomore Year — Palisades
60 touchdowns
4,360 passing yards
820 rushing yards
5,180 total yards
2 interceptions
Then came his move to Mater Dei.
Junior Year — Mater Dei
72 touchdowns
4,860 passing yards
685 rushing yards
5,445 total yards
3 interceptions
And finally his current season.
Senior Year — Mater Dei
75 touchdowns
5,420 passing yards
990 rushing yards
6,410 total yards
2 interceptions
Tom finally looked up before continuing.
"If we add up his four years, that's 279 touchdowns, 11 interceptions, 19,220 passing yards, and 3,460 rushing yards. That gives him 22,760 total offensive yards in four years of high school football," he concluded.
Craig let out a small sound, a mix of surprise and disbelief, "Wow."
Rece raised his eyebrows slightly and looked at Tom, "And the point is?"
Tom shifted in his chair, "The point is that these are absolute national records in high school football. Pritchett-Tucker is number one."
He looked back at his tablet.
"The national record for passing yards used to belong to Maty Mauk with 18,932 yards. Andrew surpassed it and now holds the record with 19,220 passing yards."
He pointed to another line of statistics.
"For total offensive yards, the record was also held by Mauk with 22,681. Andrew passed that as well with 22,760."
Jesse Palmer nodded slowly, "Mauk got pretty close."
"Yeah, very close," Tom replied. "But this is where things get really interesting. Mauk finished his high school career with 219 touchdowns. Andrew has 279."
Rece let out a short breath, "That's a huge difference."
Tom nodded, "Exactly. The question is: if both have fairly similar passing yards and total yards, with Andrew only slightly ahead, why is there a 60-touchdown difference between them?"
"Andrew is far more efficient," the other three answered almost at the same time.
Tom didn't add anything else.
For a moment, the studio seemed to fall into a brief silence, as if everyone was processing what had just been said.
Then Rece Davis spoke again.
"And that's without counting something else. His undefeated record."
Jesse shook his head, "There are so many things you almost forget some of them, but yeah, that should be another record too."
He looked at the stat graphic on the screen.
55 games played. Zero losses.
Andrew had played 55 total games during his four years in high school. He had missed only one game at Palisades when he was still a freshman and the staff decided not to put him in at all, so that game didn't even count toward his record.
"We can give him another nickname: Invincible Man," Tom joked.
Craig let out a small smile, then added in a more serious tone.
"That's something people also need to keep in mind. We've seen spectacular seasons from elite prospects, quarterbacks at mid-tier programs with ridiculous statistics. But they all lost at some point. At least once or twice during their careers."
He leaned slightly forward.
"Even in legendary seasons, like when Matt Barkley established himself as the number-one prospect in the country, there were losses. Andrew, on the other hand, never lost."
"And those numbers aren't just empty stats," Jesse added. "They translated into wins. Twelve possible titles, twelve titles won."
Rece clarified, "Four league championships, four section titles, and four state championships."
Craig murmured, "That alone would already be a record."
For a few seconds nobody spoke until Tom broke the silence.
"And that's not even counting the single-game records."
Everyone knew what he meant: records for passing yards in a game, touchdowns in a game, even the longest pass ever recorded at the high school level.
"So let me ask a simple question," Rece said. "Do we all agree that Andrew Pritchett-Tucker is the GOAT of high school football?"
He looked first at Tom.
Tom nodded quickly, "Yes. For me, he is."
Rece turned toward Jesse.
Jesse nodded as well, "Yes. He's the GOAT."
Finally he looked at Craig, who smiled slightly, "Yes, he is."
The panel continued for about twenty-five more minutes. After reviewing statistics and records, Rece and the others began analyzing the five universities Andrew could choose from. They talked about each program, their offensive systems, the coaching staffs, and how Andrew would fit into each one.
At the end of the segment, each analyst gave a prediction.
Out of the four analysts: two chose Stanford Cardinal, one chose Georgia Bulldogs, and one chose Texas A&M Aggies.
Five minutes before four in the afternoon, the broadcast finally switched.
The screen transitioned to a live feed from Mater Dei.
Now the camera showed the school's basketball gymnasium, large and very well maintained, with the classic wooden bleachers on both sides of the court. Team banners hung high above, and the polished floor reflected the lights installed for the broadcast.
In the center of the court stood a long table prepared for the announcement.
On top of it rested five college caps, carefully arranged:
Georgia Bulldogs, Missouri Tigers, Texas A&M Aggies, UCLA Bruins, and Stanford Cardinal football.
The gym was completely full, with more than five hundred people including students, teachers, and local media. Several television cameras moved around the table while photographers waited with their lenses ready.
The school principal took the microphone and said a few brief words, speaking about the pride Andrew represented for the institution and the impact he had had on the football program.
He didn't go on for long.
Finally he lifted his gaze toward the entrance of the gym.
"Please welcome Andrew Pritchett-Tucker."
The crowd erupted into applause.
Andrew appeared walking from one side of the gym. As he approached the table, many students stood up from their seats and applauded even louder.
"Andrew!"
"Let's go!"
"I love you, man!"
"Choose Stanford, please!"
'Too serious…' Andrew thought.
The whole scene felt more solemn than a college choice probably deserved. From the table he could see his father, Cam, in the front row, looking like he was about to cry, even though he already knew perfectly well what the decision would be.
Andrew simply walked calmly to the table and sat down in front of the caps. He raised a hand to wave to the crowd, which was still applauding. Finally, when the noise began to settle, he picked up the microphone.
He kept it brief.
For less than five minutes he thanked his family, his coaches, the institution, his teammates, and each of the universities that had hosted him during his official visits.
Then he paused for a moment and looked at the caps.
The atmosphere in the gym became tense. You could have heard a pin drop.
Finally, Andrew moved his hand toward one of the caps, picked it up, and placed it on his head.
For a second the gym fell silent, as if everyone needed a moment to process it.
Then the place exploded with applause.
Many people stood up. Shouts, overlapping comments, and the flashes of cameras firing from every direction filled the room.
"Wow! Andrew is staying in California, but not where everyone expected! Not Stanford, UCLA!" exclaimed Rece, clearly surprised.
Jesse let out a small laugh, "That one I definitely didn't see coming."
Craig shook his head while smiling, "We've just witnessed something historic."
Tom nodded, "No doubt. UCLA Bruins football just landed the most important recruit in the history of the program."
"This is enormous for the Bruins. This program rarely wins recruiting battles against national powerhouses. But now they've landed the GOAT of high school football."
…
Long Island, New York
In the living room of the Geller house, the television was on showing the ESPN broadcast.
Sitting on the main couch was Monica Geller, who had recently turned eighteen. She held the remote control in her hand, her eyes fixed on the screen.
Next to her, sitting with her knees pulled up on the couch, was her best friend Rachel Green, watching the broadcast just as attentively.
In the armchair sat Chandler Bing, twenty years old, leaning back while watching the television where the Mater Dei gymnasium was visible.
Chandler crossed his fingers, "Please pick Texas. Pick Texas, Texas…" he muttered.
Monica looked at him strangely, "Why are you rooting so hard for Texas?"
Chandler straightened slightly in the chair with a surprisingly serious expression, "Because it's pure logic."
Rachel looked at him curiously, "Logic?"
Chandler raised one finger, "Andrew Pritchett-Tucker has a very famous nickname."
Monica rolled her eyes, "He has like ten."
"No," Chandler said. "The most famous one: the Jesus Christ of football. I invented it. One of my greatest achievements on the internet."
'And Andrew knows it was you,' Rachel thought, but she didn't say anything.
A memory from more than a year earlier crossed Rachel's mind. There had been a time when she had talked with Andrew fairly often after they had exchanged numbers through Facebook. During those conversations Rachel had learned that when that nickname started circulating online, Andrew hadn't liked it very much.
Amused, Rachel had told him she actually knew the author of the nickname: Chandler, Ross's friend. Andrew already knew Ross from a Comic Con a couple of years earlier.
But Rachel had never told Chandler that she had spoken with Andrew about it. At that time Andrew already had some recognition thanks to his YouTube channel, although he still wasn't the nationwide phenomenon he had become now. Back then he was just entering Mater Dei for his junior year after playing at Palisades.
"Pretty proud for someone who only created a nickname," Monica commented, crossing her arms. "Although it does fit him."
Chandler continued with his argument, completely convinced, "Now then… if Andrew is the Jesus Christ of football, there's one place he has to go."
He made a dramatic pause.
"Texas."
Rachel tilted her head, "Why?"
Chandler opened his hands, "Because in Texas football is basically a religion. It's perfect. Jesus Christ… religion… Texas. Everything fits," he said.
Then he leaned back in the armchair with a smile, "I can literally picture Andrew in a Texas stadium being worshipped by fans like some damn god."
"Your imagination is running way too wild. I don't think fandom in Texas is that extreme," Monica said.
And that was saying a lot coming from her, considering she was an intense fan of Andrew's YouTube channel.
Then she looked at Chandler, "What are you doing here?" she asked.
Chandler blinked, "What do you mean, why am I here?"
"My brother isn't here," Monica said. "It's weird that you're in my house when your friend isn't."
Chandler sighed, "Ross is busy being extremely devoted to his girlfriend."
"Devoted?" Rachel asked, immediately curious about the gossip.
Chandler shrugged, "Very attached to his girlfriend. Like a fungus to its host. Although I don't know why, but whenever I see Carol I get a strange feeling… I don't know what it is," he said, squinting slightly.
"That still doesn't explain what you're doing in my house," Monica said.
Chandler looked at her dramatically, "First: we've watched like ten of Andrew's games here. Technically we're friends now. And two: your mother adores me."
As if summoned, at that exact moment Judy Geller walked into the living room carrying two cups of coffee.
"Chandler, dear," she said with a warm smile. "Here."
Chandler immediately took the cup, "Thank you," he said.
Monica watched the scene with complete disbelief. Rachel too.
It wasn't easy to win Judy's approval.
Although, thinking about it, Chandler had also managed something similar with Jack, Monica's father.
Just then Rachel raised a hand, "Shhh."
Everyone turned their attention back to the television.
On the screen Andrew could be seen entering the Mater Dei gymnasium as the crowd began to applaud.
After Andrew said a few words, he finally picked up the Bruins cap and placed it on his head.
Chandler grabbed his head with both hands, "Well, UCLA isn't bad. It's like choosing hard mode in a video game."
Monica brought her hands to her mouth, "UCLA!" she murmured excitedly. "That's great, right Rach?"
In reality, Monica didn't really know which university was the best option. They were all extremely far from New York anyway.
Although UCLA and Stanford were the farthest. But they already knew Los Angeles.
She, Ross, and Rachel had been there before, and it was actually there that they had met Andrew. If he stayed in California, that made it much easier to imagine another trip someday. Maybe another Comic Con, or any excuse that could bring them back to the city.
Rachel didn't react. She was still staring at the television.
"Rach?" Monica insisted.
Rachel blinked and snapped back to reality.
"Yes?"
"UCLA," Monica repeated.
Rachel nodded quickly, "Yes, of course. That's great."
'So he's staying in Los Angeles, huh?' Rachel thought.
…
Medford, Texas
In the Cooper house they were also watching the ESPN broadcast about Andrew's decision.
When Andrew fell silent while looking at the caps on the table, the living room was completely quiet.
His hand slowly reached toward one of them.
On television, it almost seemed to move in slow motion.
When Andrew picked up the UCLA cap, even before he put it on his head, Missy clicked her tongue.
"Damn it," she muttered, collapsing back onto the couch.
Her brother Georgie let out a sigh, "He's staying close to home. Classic," he said, shaking his head. "I had my hopes up."
On the couch, George Sr. crossed his arms and shifted uncomfortably.
He knew something no one else in that room knew: Andrew had Texas roots. His biological father lived just a few houses away.
Cole.
Andrew's real father, and George's friend.
'This is going to complicate things if Cole wants to get closer,' George thought.
If Cole wanted to try reconnecting, he would now have to travel all the way to California. Andrew would no longer be just one or two hours away from college, which would have made everything much easier, both logistically and discreetly.
George sighed quietly. And setting that aside, he had to admit he was a little disappointed.
He had wanted to see Andrew playing in Texas. To watch him live from time to time, to follow his career more closely.
But now the kid had chosen California.
On the couch, Missy let out another sigh. She rested her chin in her hand while looking at the television.
'I can't get angry with him,' she thought.
On the TV, Andrew was still wearing the UCLA Bruins football cap while beginning to answer questions.
…
A bar just a few blocks from the UCLA campus was far more crowded than usual for that time of the afternoon.
Most of the screens were tuned to ESPN. The volume was loud and nobody was talking much.
Many students, some wearing Bruins shirts, others simply curious, watched the television with their arms crossed or with a beer in their hand.
The atmosphere carried a certain tension.
The university had gone through a rough few weeks. The loss against their direct rival, USC Trojans football, still hurt.
And yet, against all logic, the best high school quarterback in the country had visited UCLA Bruins and not USC. Something that almost never happened with elite prospects from Los Angeles.
At one of the tables, a student murmured, "He's not going to pick us…"
"It's incredible we even made the top five," another said, though his tone wasn't very hopeful.
Finally Andrew sat in front of the hats, said a few words, and looked down at them.
The bar fell silent.
Andrew reached out his hand.
He picked up the cap.
And when everyone saw the UCLA logo, the entire place froze for half a second, then exploded.
"NO WAY!!"
"LET'S GO!!"
"BRUINS!"
"FUCK YES!"
Many students jumped up from their tables at the same time. Others started hugging each other violently, as if they had just won a Bowl game.
Someone lifted his beer glass too quickly and half of it spilled across the bar.
"WE GOT HIM!"
"THE DAMN GOAT IS COMING TO UCLA!"
"UCLA, BABY!"
"Take that, Barkley!"
Whistles echoed through the bar. Fists slammed on tables. Glasses clinked together.
At a table near the window, a girl wearing a UCLA hoodie watched everything with an amused smile.
"They're reacting like we just won the Rose Bowl…" she said, laughing.
Her friend, on the other hand, was completely caught up in the euphoria. She raised her arms celebrating with the rest of the bar.
"This is better!" she shouted. "It's worth two Rose Bowls."
Then she pointed at the television where Andrew was still wearing the cap.
"Remember what I'm telling you right now… that kid is going to win us two Rose Bowls."
The girl in the hoodie shook her head, laughing, the hugs, and the clinking of beer glasses continued.
…
A few miles away, in another bar near the USC Trojans campus, the reaction was very different.
On the screen, Andrew was still visible wearing the UCLA Bruins football cap.
Matt Barkley, the quarterback of the USC Trojans and one of the biggest names in college football at that time, was sitting in one of the chairs watching the broadcast.
He had decided to stay for a fourth year at the university instead of declaring for the NFL draft.
One of his teammates, leaning against the wall, let out a laugh.
"The GOAT chose UCLA…" he said mockingly. "Interesting."
Another player shook his head, "After a 50–0 game against us, good luck rebuilding that," he commented.
A third player snorted, "We'll see how invincible he is once he starts facing real defenses in college."
"Yeah," another laughed, "and maybe he won't even be the starter in his first year. All that hype for nothing."
At a nearby table, a USC student, who also happened to be subscribed to Andrew's YouTube channel, listened to them with his jaw slightly clenched.
'Andrew won't be the starter?' he thought.
He was about to say something.
After all, they were talking about the quarterback who had just finished his high school career with absurd numbers, undefeated, and with championships everywhere. The consensus was clear: without debate, he was the GOAT of high school football.
Besides, Barkley himself had won the starting job in his first year at USC.
Why couldn't Andrew, who arrived with even greater dominance in high school and talent many considered superior, do the same at UCLA?
Especially when it was quite obvious that UCLA would now see him as the player expected to lead the program's rebuilding over the next several years.
But the student held himself back.
He looked around. Half the bar was wearing USC gear, and several of the people speaking were players on the team.
He decided to stay quiet. It wasn't worth starting trouble.
Among the group of players, one of the younger ones, a freshman backup who clearly wanted to join the conversation, spoke quickly, almost enthusiastically.
"Besides, next season we won't have the NCAA sanctions anymore," he said. "Everyone already sees us as national title contenders. The only team that can stand up to the SEC."
He nodded toward Barkley.
"With Matt staying one more year, we're going to be unstoppable."
Another player set his glass down on the table with a confident smile.
"Exactly. The Pac-12 South is going to be easy. When we play the Bruins again it'll be another fifty to zero, or worse."
Barkley simply took another sip of his drink, not joining the conversation.
His eyes remained fixed on the television, where Andrew continued answering questions while wearing the UCLA cap.
And just like that, the day of Andrew's decision came to an end.