Hot Wings — The Night Marco Got the Job

October 2036. Four games into the season. Four wins. Caleb Park has been exactly what I expected — precise, unflappable, the kind of presence that raises the standard by existing. After the second game, a parent came up to me and said he'd been watching this program for twelve years and he'd never seen a leader like Caleb. I said I agreed. He said: how do you know what you're getting when you recruit? I said: you never know for certain. You look for the willingness to be corrected and the consistency of how they treat people when there's no consequence. He nodded and walked away and I don't know if that was the answer he wanted but it was the only true one I had.

Marco got the head coach job. Small 4A school, forty minutes south of Denver, about three hundred students. He called me at nine o'clock at night with the news, and he was trying to be composed but the composure was cracking around the edges and I could hear the thirty-two-year-old version of myself in his voice — that mix of terror and elation that hits you when you've just been handed something real. I said: Marco. He said: yeah. I said: you're going to make mistakes. He said: I know. I said: they won't ruin you. He said: you sure? I said: I'm sure. I have thirty years of being wrong to prove it.

I went to bed that night thinking about Ruben. He would have been forty-four this year. He would have called Marco and said something funny and true, the way Ruben always did. He would have been exactly the uncle those kids need. I carry that absence differently than I used to — with more space around it, less raw, but it never goes away entirely and I don't want it to.

After I hung up with Marco, I didn’t go straight to bed the way I said I would — I went to the kitchen instead, because that’s what I do when something big happens and I need my hands to be doing something while my head catches up. I made hot wings. Not because it’s fancy or significant, but because Ruben and I used to make them after any game worth remembering, and that night felt like one. This is the recipe — simple, honest, and better shared than eaten alone.

Hot Wings

Prep Time: 15 min | Cook Time: 45 min | Total Time: 1 hr | Servings: 4

Ingredients

• 3 lbs chicken wings, split at the joint, tips removed
• 1 tbsp baking powder
• 1 tsp garlic powder
• 1 tsp onion powder
• 1 tsp smoked paprika
• 1/2 tsp kosher salt
• 1/2 tsp black pepper
• 1/2 cup hot sauce (such as Frank’s RedHot)
• 4 tbsp unsalted butter, melted
• 1 tsp Worcestershire sauce
• 1/2 tsp cayenne pepper (optional, for extra heat)

Instructions

1. Dry the wings. Pat wings thoroughly dry with paper towels — moisture is the enemy of crispiness. Place in a large bowl.
2. Season. Toss wings with baking powder, garlic powder, onion powder, smoked paprika, salt, and black pepper until evenly coated. Arrange in a single layer on a wire rack set over a rimmed baking sheet.
3. Refrigerate (optional but recommended). For the crispiest skin, refrigerate uncovered for at least 30 minutes or up to overnight.
4. Bake. Preheat oven to 425°F. Bake wings for 25 minutes, flip, then bake another 20–25 minutes until golden brown and the skin is crispy.
5. Make the sauce. While wings bake, whisk together hot sauce, melted butter, Worcestershire sauce, and cayenne (if using) in a small saucepan over low heat until combined.
6. Toss and serve. Transfer hot wings to a large bowl, pour sauce over them, and toss until every piece is coated. Serve immediately with celery sticks and blue cheese or ranch dressing.

Nutrition (per serving)

Calories: 480 | Protein: 36g | Fat: 34g | Carbs: 3g | Fiber: 0g | Sodium: 820mg