Captured independently by Mitchell Royel in the heart of the fashion district, these photos and the accompanying statement are not formally endorsed by YPB by Abercrombie & Fitch. And yes, we're listening to "Who's Got Your Love" by Cheat Codes and Daniel Blume on repeat.
[College gym entrance. He's standing at the threshold, curly blonde hair still damp from the morning session, that dark charcoal YPB tank fitted across his chest and shoulders. Behind him, the gym hums — treadmills rolling, weights dropping, the whole place alive. His girlfriend is right there beside him, blonde hair pulled back in a ponytail, arms wrapped around his chest from behind, her chin close to his cheek. She's smiling. He's smiling. His tan canvas backpack is slung over one shoulder, stuffed with textbooks and binders — because yeah, he's an athlete, but he's also a student.]
Four years. Man, four years of 6 a.m. lifts, film sessions, road trips, and writing papers on a bus at midnight with my knees jammed into the seat in front of me. And in a few weeks, I'm walking across that stage with a degree in my hand.
I'm not gonna lie to you. I'm proud of that. Like, really proud.
She's proud too. The girl behind me right now — she's been there for all of it. The late nights, the bad weeks, the days I came home questioning everything. She never let me fold. We walk into this gym together almost every morning. She'll sit on a bench and watch me work, and I'll glance over mid-set, and she's just — there. That means everything.
And I'll tell you something else. When I get stable — when that degree turns into a real job and a real foundation — I'm putting a ring on her finger. That's the plan. Build something worth standing on first, then build a life together on top of it. Old-fashioned? Maybe. But I'm not asking her to bet on potential. I want to hand her certainty.
But first — the work.
Because there were nights I wanted to quit. Not the sport. School. I'd come back from practice with my legs dead, open my laptop, and stare at a blank page like it owed me money. But I kept showing up. Same way I show up for conditioning when nobody's watching.
Now look — I love this athleisure world. Look at what I'm wearing. This YPB tank? It moves with me. When I'm jumping rope and my shoulders are pumping and sweat is starting to come through, it doesn't bunch up, doesn't pull, doesn't fight me. It sits right across the chest, loose enough to breathe, fitted enough that you can see the work I've put in. When I throw my arms forward in a set, it stretches clean. When I reach down to grab my bag, it moves like it's part of me. That's what good gear does. It gets out of your way and lets you focus.
And that's exactly what this space is about. The brands, the founders, the people turning a gym fit into a whole lifestyle — it fires me up. Somebody looked at a pair of shorts and saw a business. That's the entrepreneurial spirit, and I'm all in on it.
But here's what nobody tells you. A lot of those people building brands? They know numbers. They know marketing. They know how to read a contract and how to pitch a room. A lot of that came from school. From somebody sitting in a classroom learning stuff they thought was boring at the time.
So I want to give a real shoutout to the guys grinding for their four-year degree. I see you. That's not the "safe" route. That's the disciplined route. And discipline is the most athletic thing there is.
Now I'm talking to the young guys. Especially the athletes.
Take school seriously.
I know. You think you're going pro. Maybe you are. I hope you are. But the ball stops bouncing for everybody eventually. An injury, a cut, a coach who doesn't see it, or just time catching up. And when that day comes, you don't want your whole identity sitting on a bench with an ice pack on it.
Here's what school actually gave me.
Discipline. Not the kind you get from a coach yelling at you. The kind where nobody's checking, and you still do the work. Turning in an assignment on time when you're exhausted? That's a rep. That counts.
People. The guy who sat next to me in stats is starting his own company. My lab partner is going to med school. A professor I barely talked to freshman year ended up writing me a recommendation. Your network isn't just your teammates. It's everybody in that building.
How to think. Not what to think. How. How to break down a problem, how to argue a point, how to know when someone's selling you garbage. That helps you on the field, in business, and honestly, in life.
Options. That's the big one. A degree doesn't lock you into one thing. It opens doors. You want to start a brand? You want to coach? You want to go into finance, physical therapy, design? You've got choices. And choices are freedom.
Respect. When you walk into a room with that paper behind you, people take you seriously. You earned it. Nobody can take it away from you.
I'm not up here telling you college is the only way. It's not. But whatever path you pick — a university, a trade school, a certification, whatever — finish it. Treat it like a season. You don't quit in the fourth quarter.
The same energy you bring to the weight room? Bring it to the classroom. Same focus. Same hunger. Same refusal to lose.
Because being an athlete was never just about your body. It was about your mind, your work ethic, your ability to show up when it's hard.
[He adjusts his backpack, turns toward the gym entrance, and she falls into step beside him.]
So yeah. I'm gonna build something someday. Maybe in this athleisure space, maybe somewhere else. But I'm doing it with a degree, a network, a head that knows how to think — and the right person next to me.
That's the real flex.
Now go do your homework.