Flashback Friday: Big Nick Energy
One of the craziest things I’ve ever witnessed in my life was the birth of my first nephew.
Now, most of you are probably thinking, “Yuck!” And believe me, I contemplated not stepping foot into that room at the maternity ward. My older sister, Ange, had asked me to be there with her and her hubby, Ian—not only to welcome the baby who would make me a first-time Zia (that’s Italian for Aunt), but to welcome the baby who would be my Godchild.
Growing up in a big Italian family has its perks: the pasta is always homemade—sauce included—and the love is always genuine. We live and breathe family. So if my sister wanted me there, holding her hand during the birth of her first kid, how could I say no?
I’ll save you the gory birthing details, but I basically felt like Will Smith circa Men in Black.
Honestly though, September 28, 2012 goes down as one of the best days of my life because I held my nephew, Brody, for the first time. And when he wrapped his tiny hand around my pinky finger I thought, You have my heart forever, kid.
Brody turns eight years old on Monday, alongside my mom. It’s weirdly amazing how two of the most important people in my life share a birthday. And of course, we go big or go home in an Italian household. So, the family is getting together on Sunday to celebrate together.
Sadly, I won’t be there. I’ll be watching 49ers football in my shoebox condo and praying to the NFL Gods that MetLife Stadium won’t be loaded with any more landmines.
After last weekend’s battle, I felt drained. And I’m usually the first one to be optimistic. To smile in the face of adversity, say a cheeky comment about how Jimmy Jawline will be just fine—he will be, phewf—and pray the Giants hire a better groundskeeper than the Jets did.
When all else fails, turn up the speakers and blast some Chance the Rapper.
If you’re like me, Chance probably annoyed the heck out of you when you first heard his voice. He’s a tad whiny. He wears the same damn hat every day. And his lyrics are a little strange.
Hot damn. Hot water. Hot shower.
Chancelor Johnathan Bennett wasn’t born into greatness. He didn’t have a record label. He was an independent artist who had big dreams and a lot of patience. More importantly, he was focused.
Like an undrafted free agent, Chance had to channel his energy and focus into making music all on his own in hopes of someone recognizing his greatness. And luckily for him and his wildly unique lyrics that mimic poetry in hip-hop form, greatness finally found him. You could say the same thing about 49ers backup quarterback Nick Mullens.
Well, scratch the “backup."
Mullens got the green light to play on Sunday against the New York Giants at MetLife Stadium. Mullens the Rapper, if you will.
Okay, that’s a stretch. If you’re reading this, I can hear your eyes rolling. Let me explain, though. Mullens is Chance. He was an undrafted free agent claimed by San Francisco in 2017 as the backup, backup, backup QB, but of course, he was waived. However, 2018 was Mullens’ #RevengeTour.
I spent the early afternoon watching the 1981 Niners squad lose to the Atlanta Falcons in Week 3. Thankfully, YouTube only showed a condensed version of the tragedy. I could feel the weight of that loss.
Joe Montana—like Mullens—joined the 49ers as a backup quarterback. He patiently waited for his great moment, too. And we all know how that turned out for him.
Week 3 against the Falcons in 1981 was probably the lowest the 49ers felt all season. Despite the poor video quality, I could still see the sad faces. It felt like this past Sunday against the Jets, when one-by-one, our team fell to pieces and found solace in the locker room.
But like the vintage red and gold, greatness flows through this team—every player on this team has a chance to be something this weekend. Even little Nicky.
Pump the brakes: I’m not saying that Mullens will be the next Cool Nick. But in a season where Jimmy Garoppolo was meant to start every game, the young quarterback waiting patiently in the background has another shot to make the world remember his name.
When Mullens took over as QB in 2018 after Garoppolo’s season-ending ACL tear, he threw for 2,277 yards and 13 touchdowns. He kept the team’s spirit alive. And now, he has the chance to do it all over again in New York.
I think Mullens will thrive.
And if he doesn’t? Well, these Flashback Friday games have taught me that a couple losses don’t dictate a champion. Remember when Mullens beat the Seahawks?
That was some BNE—Big Nick Energy—for real.
Mullens is every person out there with a dream. He’s Chance the Rapper. He’s Joe Montana. Hell, he’s me.
I left Vancouver last September to chase my own dreams in Toronto. And for the longest time it felt like I left all of my friends and family for nothing. The pandemic hit the pause button on so many of us, myself included. And I’ve been sitting on the bench behind Garoppolo—I wish this metaphor were real, damn—for the past seven months, just waiting for my time to shine.
The truth is I’ve been shining ever since I held Brody in my arms. Here’s a secret: the shine is always there, we just need our moment to show it.
Staying true to yourself and your dreams is never easy, especially when the ones you love have to watch your success through an LED screen. But one day, it will all be worth it: the losses, the missed birthdays, and the battle scars.
Mullens didn’t begin this season thinking, “I’m going to be the starting quarterback this year,” but he did prepare for it every single day as if he would be. And this Sunday, he’ll prove to the doubters that dreams really do come true. He's walking proof.
It just takes focus, patience, and some Big Nick Energy.
