I swallow hard, clenching my jaw, waiting for him to continue.
“There has been a fair amount of coverage on social media, and it’s not favorable.”
“I’m not sure what you mean.” He’s giving me no context clues.
“The incident with Brandon Nix.”
Oh, that. “I’m not the first official to send off Brandon Nix, and I can guarantee I will not be the last.”
Nathan pauses on the screen. For a moment, I think there’s a glitch in the connection and he’s frozen. But then I notice the pendulum of his wall clock moving back and forth. Back and forth. It’s not an internet issue, it’s him.
Damn, I could learn a lot about maintaining my poker face from this man.
Finally, he speaks. “Brandon Nix has quite the reputation on and off the field.”
I don’t often follow the personal lives of soccer players, unless it blows up huge, like with Xavier Henry and that Ophelia girl from ClikClak. “My only concern is with how a player conducts his- or herself during the game, on the field. The rest is none of my business. I don’t want to enter a game with preconceived notions that will affect my ability to call a proper game.”
At last, Nathan raises his eyebrows a fraction. If I hadn’t been staring so intently at my screen, I might not have noticed.
My nerves fray the last tiny bit of my patience. “Please just spit it out. I obviously have no idea what you’re referring to.”
“After analysis of the altercation with Brandon Nix, there are quite a few people who are speculating that there is some sort of romantic involvement between you and Mr. Nix.”
My internal self breaks out into a side-splitting guffaw, laughing so hard that my entire body convulses, and tears roll down my cheeks. My external self raises one eyebrow a millimeter and the corner of my mouth quirks with incredulity.
Apparently, that was too much emotion to show. Dammit. A quick glance at the screen shows that my boss does not appreciate my response.
“I’m glad you find this amusing, but we must take this seriously. It could have grave consequences. If you need to be refreshed, I’d advise you to review Policy 3.4-7 in our conduct manual which prohibits fraternization with players.”
Fraternization?Nathan is not kidding. I steel my expression. I’ve got my game face on. “Right. Of course.”
“This game garnered extra attention and coverage due to your role as head referee. There have been many critics who do not think a woman should be officiating in the men’s league. That they have no business being together on the field because something might happen with one of the players.”
If I were letting any muscles in my face move, it would be the ones that roll my eyes at this antiquated thinking. Of course, if a man and a woman share the same space, there must be some sort of sexual attraction happening. There’s no way a woman can exist outside her role as a sexual creature.
Nathan keeps talking, unaware of my distaste for this reductionist, chauvinistic train of thought. “As well as that women cannot keep up with the pace of men, or that they do not know the game as well. Giving even the slightest hint of impropriety only adds fuel to that fire. Samuel Fredericks has given the directive to expand our DEI, which is how your name got brought up to fill Calvin’s vacancy.”
This revelation feels like a punch to the gut. I thought I was given the job because I was the best suited for it. As a USSLRA referee, I participate in and am graded on my physical fitness three times per year. Like every other referee, my games are reviewed and scored. My tallies on both the physical achievements as well as the game scores are solidly average for a Level 3 ref.
Not a Level 3 female ref, but of all referees.
I’d thought the patriarchal views that held the USSLRA in a tight grip were from upper management. I never realized Nathan was part of that.
“If you are to be given this opportunity again, you will need to make sure that you are presented as a professional referee first and foremost, both on and off the field. We do not want to draw attention to your gender at all. It cannot be the focus of the game. And there certainly cannot be any sort of flirtation or smiles or coy looks to players. If you want to be successful with the USSLRA, please do not let something like this tarnish your otherwise stellar record.”
I don’t have to worry about my reply because I am too stunned to speak. I believe I nod as Nathan ends the call, but then I sit there in silence. His words replay on an endless loop in my head.
Flirtation. Smile. Coy.
There was none of that during the game. Not one single iota. And for Nathan to suggest that there was is way out of line. All because ... what? Why? Oh right. Those stupid comments on ClikClak. I cannot believe that some lowlife bottom feeders on an app could skew reality so completely that now my boss is involved.
Another word he said joins the loop in my brain.
If.
There’s no other way to interpret it other than a thinly veiled threat. Or not so thinly veiled. It’s like he’s looking for a reason for me not to succeed. My career could be over before it starts, all because some jackhole can’t control his temper, and I happen to have been born with a uterus. I cannot believe in this day and age we’re still thinking like this.
This is complete and utter bullshit.
