Chapter 15: Andi
Han Solo said it bestwith the immortal words, “I’ve got a bad feeling about this.” It runs through my head on repeat as I read back the text chain with Hannah LaRosa. We moved off of messaging on ClikClak and onto regular texting as the plans developed.
I should trust her judgment. She’s built her career on working the algorithm, and it’s landed her a job managing social media for the Patriots. As last we left it, she was going to do some research and see if she could come up with some social media strategies that might help mitigate damage to my career.
I’ve got to get out in front of this quickly. I haven’t heard from Nathan yet, but it’s only a matter of time. Every time my phone pings I want to jump out of my skin. But it’s quiet.
Too quiet.
I have games I’m scheduled to officiate over the weekend, so I’ll have to be in contact with the USSLRA office then. I’m dreading it. If only I knew what Hannah was going to come up with, so I had some damage control in place before that, maybe I’d sleep a little easier.
Since I’m so restless, I do the next best thing. I go for a run. I’m one of the few people out on this steamy July day, but I consider it good training. Soccer games are never called on account of the weather being too hot. I’ve got to be able to run up and down the field with the players for the full duration of the game.
The only way to do that is to train like a player. It’s one of the main criticisms for having female referees in the MUSSL, to begin with—that they won’t be able to keep up with the pace of the game.
I’d rather drop dead from heatstroke than prove them right.
I mean, not really. Heatstroke totally sucks and makes you feel downright shitty. You have to be smart when you’re working out in this kind of weather.
There’s a decent chance that I’m not being smart because I’m letting my emotions take over. I deliberately slow my pace and try to even my breathing. God, it’s hot out here.
I’m barely walking when I finally get back to my place. The air conditioner can’t keep up with the thick humidity of the day, so I open up my freezer and stand there until my sweat-soaked skin is covered in goosebumps.
Knowing I’ll regret it tomorrow, I skip my post-run stretch in lieu of a lukewarm shower. I stand there for way too long, trying to make my mind stop racing.
Prior to last week, my goal had been to work twenty more games this season so I could be promoted to the next level. With the bump in salary as a Level 2, in addition to my savings, I’d be able to quit my day job. I could probably do some part-time, off-season consulting work to make sure I have a nest egg for unplanned occurrences. I might have to make some thoughtful choices here and there, but I could do it.
Once you get to Level 2, USSLRA also provides health insurance. That’s a biggie too. The biggie. These are the glamorous things you get to think about when you’re an adult that no one talks about when you’re a bright-eyed, idealistic youngster.
Of course, with Benj, health insurance has always been a hot topic in our house. Then, when I worked in the clinic as a physical therapist, I had to document to justify why my services were needed. In other words, every day I had to prove my worth. As shitty as that is, somehow it’s better than my current soul-sucking job.
I hate making therapists prove that their patients need this equipment. I know they do. No onewantsto have a special toileting system or a wheelchair. I love refereeing, but I do my job to pay the bills.
I’d really prefer if the job I loved could also keep a roof over my head and food on my table.
I won’t be able to referee forever. My days on the pitch are limited, so I need to strike while the iron’s hot. Or grab the bull by the horns. Or some other super clichéd motivational crap.
I don’t know what spin-doctoring Hannah LaRosa is going to come up with, but I hope it’s good. We haven’t talked about fees yet, so I hope I can afford her services. I’m probably too trusting, but she doesn’t seem like the type to rip me off.
I cannot begin to fathom what she’s going to come up with for me to do. I hope it’s not lip-synching or dancing on ClikClak. I don’t think I could make a fool of myself like that simply for entertainment. Maybe I could do videos teaching about the rules of soccer.
