Fate vs. Opportunity Theme Analysis

But what I wanted to tell you, Dad, is how much I’ve changed since that day. How much better I am. How much stronger and darker and more Mexican I am. Matter of fact, just today I knocked some kid out.

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 […].

Danny stares at his uncle. The bulging veins in his forehead are the same veins he used to see in his dad’s forehead. The same crazed eyes.

He rubs his eyes and looks up into the tree but the hawks are gone. The whole family. He stands up and looks for them harder […]. …But it’s no use. They’re gone. And he feels so sad […].

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.

Back in Little League he’d amaze all his teammates with his pitching, the parents in the stands, the coaches. His dad. But then his family split at the seams. And he, Julia, and his mom moved a bunch of times. Now when he toed a rubber in front of the team, he had no idea where his next pitch would end up.

It’s like this story my teacher was telling us. About the guy who spends all day rolling a boulder up a hill and then, when he gets to the top, he just lets it roll back down. That myth or whatever. I mean, what kind of shit is that? What’s the point?

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.

But Danny only wanted to watch what his dad wanted to watch. So when he picked up the remote and started flipping, he concentrated on his dad’s face.

He and Ray both got in a lot of trouble when we were kids. Some pretty violent stuff. Fights and assaults. Definitely wasn’t the first time.

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.

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?

This is just a game. Two guys with smiles trying to get the better of each other. This is simple. This makes sense. This is what he loves.