Senior Character Analysis

Not only is Uno the only Black kid in the neighborhood—or negrito, as the old Mexicans call him (even though his moms is Mexican, too)—he’s also stronger, quicker, taller, a better fighter. It’s his time.

As a kid he used to have this crazy recurring dream: Some blur of a hooded black man was chasing him through a dark cemetery. […] Finally he’d leap at Uno’s feet like a football player, drag him down by his ankles. Pinned to the ground, Uno would look up at where the guy’s face should have been, but there was no face. There was only this huge scar, shaped just like Senior’s […].

Nothing hypes him up more than when people are watching him. Especially white people. In every other part of life they run shit, just like his old man says, but not when it comes to sports.

Like I told you, dawg, the old man was on mad substances back then. He all changed now. A cool guy. But sometimes when I walk out on this field, man, I remember that shit. The look on his face and how scared I was.

Man, I ain’t never gonna make it to Oxnard. Shit ain’t meant to be.

My pops is into God, man. Jesus up in heaven and all that. And maybe he’s right. But sometimes I think maybe God’s down here. In regular everyday stuff. Like the power of a train.

I could meet Prince Charming and it wouldn’t be any different. ‘All better’ isn’t something you can find in a man.

We all start out believing we can do anything. Even Mexican kids that grow up here. But at some point we lose it. It totally disappears. Like me, for example. Why is that?

Not only is Uno the only Black kid in the neighborhood—or negrito, as the old Mexicans call him (even though his moms is Mexican, too)—he’s also stronger, quicker, taller, a better fighter. It’s his time.

As a kid he used to have this crazy recurring dream: Some blur of a hooded black man was chasing him through a dark cemetery. […] Finally he’d leap at Uno’s feet like a football player, drag him down by his ankles. Pinned to the ground, Uno would look up at where the guy’s face should have been, but there was no face. There was only this huge scar, shaped just like Senior’s […].

Nothing hypes him up more than when people are watching him. Especially white people. In every other part of life they run shit, just like his old man says, but not when it comes to sports.

Like I told you, dawg, the old man was on mad substances back then. He all changed now. A cool guy. But sometimes when I walk out on this field, man, I remember that shit. The look on his face and how scared I was.

Man, I ain’t never gonna make it to Oxnard. Shit ain’t meant to be.

My pops is into God, man. Jesus up in heaven and all that. And maybe he’s right. But sometimes I think maybe God’s down here. In regular everyday stuff. Like the power of a train.

I could meet Prince Charming and it wouldn’t be any different. ‘All better’ isn’t something you can find in a man.

We all start out believing we can do anything. Even Mexican kids that grow up here. But at some point we lose it. It totally disappears. Like me, for example. Why is that?