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One of my friends has a saying, ‘Never over-estimate yourself and never under-estimate your luck.‘

Well, I consider myself one of the lucky ones.

I’m just a regular guy. I’m not the biggest, I’m not the strongest, I’m not the fastest. I work hard like everyone else and when my opportunity came, I just ended up capitalizing on it and here I am today, again, as one of the lucky ones.

I’m lucky because I get to play football and this Saturday in Montreal I’ll be playing in front of many of my family and friends, including my parents. And my family, especially my parents and my late brother Sami — rest in peace — were so important in helping me get to where I am today.

Every good story has a hero, they say, and my family are the heroes of my story.

I was born in Montreal after my parents immigrated there from Algeria, with my dad coming to Quebec in the 80s when he was in his 30s and my mom following him a couple years later after he had arranged all the paperwork.

My dad grew up poor in Algiers. He was young at the time of the war for independence (1952-62) and lost his dad and brother in that war. As a result, the government gave the family an apartment since they lost their dad — a two-bedroom apartment and there were nine of them.

When my dad was young, he had a job in Libya in the desert working in the kitchen as a cook for an American company. He didn’t need much money because he had housing and food and so he would just give his paycheque to his family. His money always went to his mom and when she passed away, he had access to the savings account and he realized she had saved most of his money to give back to him. She used what she needed but kept the rest for him.

That’s a common theme for my family.

When I was growing up my dad worked two-three jobs. My mom, too. Saturday is going to be her first game seeing me play live because she worked a lot. She never really understood football anyway, so I always understood why she didn’t come to games. She always tried to watch it on TV or record it and watch it after work. She was always working the nightshift or at a time when I was in high school and college and we were playing.

My dad also told me a story a couple years back… I was about eight or nine and I went up to him and said, ‘When are we going to have dinner together?’ He was working so much I didn’t really see him. He said that moment clicked for him, telling him he needed to spend more time with his kids. He was so focussed on making sure we had everything we needed we didn’t see him that much. He was working for a cleaning company, and he had two different jobs as a cook, one of them in the hospital.

A lot of people will say the main reason they made it is because of their parents and count me as one of them. To me, my parents are the definition of success because I never needed or missed anything.

I grew up in a bad neighbourhood in Montreal, around gang violence and some bad stuff. But in my block, all the kids and families came from the same humble background. That was my reality. I didn’t see anything better or worse because we were all in it together. We weren’t struggling, it was just normal to me. Everyone in my neighbourhood worked two jobs.

My parents, they worked their asses off for us. They did everything for us. That’s why it will be fun to have them there on Saturday. They didn’t even really care if I was playing football because what was most important for them was that my brother and sisters were happy. That’s all they wanted. I mean, they know this is a passion for me, but it’s all about whether I’m happy. I’m making a living but when I tell my mom I’m going to work she’ll smile and say, ‘You’re not working. You’re playing a game.’ That’s why I pinch myself every morning for the position I’m in and why I’m super thankful.

I know they’re proud of me. They set it up for me so I could be anything I wanted to be. They would be happy no matter what I’m doing if I’m fulfilled. But them coming from another continent to here so we could have a better life, I’m proud of them. They made it. My job was easy. I lived in a safe environment with a roof over my head. My parents loved me. I went to school. I had food on my plate and new clothes every year.

My brother Sami — I haven’t really talked much about what happened to him when he passed away suddenly in 2021. He was my biggest supporter. He always made sure I had everything I needed when I was on the field. When I was in college, he was in the stands supporting me. When I got drafted I have a video of his reaction after they said my name. He’s screaming with happiness.

He was always my biggest supporter. On game day I’m always thinking of him.

I don’t belief in grief. I think you just get used to the feeling of someone missing. That’s something I feel every day. I miss him so much.

I don’t believe in pressure or stress because of that perspective. We get to play a game. I prepare hard during the week, but I don’t feel pressure when I’m out there because it’s fun. Real pressure is when you don’t know how you’re going to find something to eat. I’m priveged and lucky. I would be a fool to feel stress going out there to play a game with my friends. That’s how I see it.

What I do feel is some sort of sadness because my brother, who was my biggest supporter, got to see me drafted but never got to see me play for Winnipeg. I don’t live with much regret because I accept any decision or outcome, good or bad. But the only regret I do have is I was so focussed on becoming a pro when I was in college, I wish now I had spent more time with him. Sometimes you don’t realize that until someone is gone.

My brother was very generous. Now with me making a good income I always want to make sure that if my sisters or mom want or need something I can help them. In a sense, if I can spend money on my family, it reminds me of my brother and the sacrifices my mom and dad made, too.

My dad’s not in the best health now. So, I try now to do my best to be around him, to make my mom laugh. I travelled with one of my sisters before the season — do all the things my brother would have done. I’ll never replace the void of him, but this is something easy for me to do to remind me of him.

That’s why I keep saying I’m lucky and that my family are the real heroes of my story.

If there’s a trophy or flowers that needs to be given, it’s to them, not me. It’s all credit to them.

That’s why Saturday will be special.