“Bit nervous,” I admitted, wiping my sweaty palms on my pants.
“No need to be nervous. It’s the fucking Tigers, man.”
“They beefed up their roster in the off-season,” Jonesy called out from across the aisle. “I’ve watched some of their rookies’ tapes from college, and they might be a bit more challenging this year.”
“Dude, that’s not helping,” our tight end, Wendell West, called out. “Do not start with your stats shit unless it’s the stat that they didn’t beat usoncelast year. We fucking dogwalked them.”
“Last three games we played against them,” Milo commented as he walked by. “So, none of this defeatist shit. We are going towintonight, and this season is going to be different. Alright?”
A few guys called out their agreement, and soon the locker room was exploding with the sounds of my new teammates shit talking the Wichita Tigers. Their confidence began to lift my spirit, and by the time Coach Cal came in to deliver his pregame pep talk, my nerves had faded.
It turned out that Jonesy was right. The Tigers had improved a lot over the offseason. They’d fixed the holes in their roster, and when the game ended, they were the ones putting a mark in the W column. I wished I could say that the game had been close, but it hadn’t. They ended up winning by two touchdowns.
It had almost been three touchdowns. At the end of the fourth quarter with twenty seconds to go, they lined up at the five-yard line. The quarterback dropped back in the pocket as their wide receiver made his way to the end zone. It was as if time slowed down, and I saw my moment. There was a clear path between their offensive linemen. I took off and tackled him to the ground.
Stinger Stadium proved its reputation, drowning out the sound of the buzzer in their applause and the sounds of my name being chanted.
The sense of accomplishment carried me back to the locker room. When Coach Cal delivered a talk about what went right that game, he tossed me one of the game balls and congratulated me on a great first showing. “Don’t bother showering yet,” he called out after he passed me the ball. “You’re doing press.” His eyes scanned the crowd and landed on a few other players who had performed well during the game. “Media room. All of you.”
I hated doing press. I had always hated doing press, but it was a part of the job.
I followed my four other teammates who were selected for press through the maze of the stadium hallways. The press rooms were one level up, and I’d only been there once during a stadium tour. I was glad Liam knew where he was going. In fact, it appeared that everyone except me knew where they weregoing, including the rookie cornerback who had gotten the sole interception during the game, right on his first drive as an ALF player.
I had a feeling the press would have a lot of questions for him.
We lined up, one by one, and answered the questions the scrum had. Afterward, individual reporters could tag us for interviews for their media. I didn’t expect anyone to ask me to stick around. I was a new face for Scorpion fans, and the reporters would all have their favorites. I knew other reporters would make their way down to the locker room to conduct locker side interviews alongside the social media team.
I figured I’d walk back with them, but a reporter called out to me as I neared the door. I found the source of the voice to a reporter wearing an SEN badge. I followed them into a smaller side room and waited for their camera crew to follow behind us.
“I’m Y/N from Sports Entertainment Network, and I’m here at Stinger Stadium with the newest Scorpion, Rowan Rangecroft,” the reporter began, a bright smile on their face. They spoke the introduction directly to the camera before turning their attention to me. “Rowan, until a few weeks ago, you were with the Fayetteville Foxes. How did that trade come about?”
I knew better than to say that the trade had taken me by surprise. It wouldn’t look good on my former team. It wouldn’t look good on my agent. It wouldn’t look good onme. There were some things best left unsaid. Instead, I gave the PR answer, the well-rehearsed one I’d given in the sole interview I’d done since the trade happened. “Tyriq Fell got injured, and the Scorpions needed a new linebacker. They made an offer that was too good for the Foxes to refuse, and I knew I could make an impact here.”
“And an impact you have made,” Y/N declared with a laugh that sounded almost forced. “That sack tonight on the Tiger’s quarterback was something. What was going through your mind when you went for it?”
I hated questions like that. I had always hated questions like that. Luckily, Troy had drilled answers into my mind. The words were automatic when they fell from my lips. “I knew it wouldn’t make a difference on if we won or lost, but it would make a difference inhowwe lost. It showed the Wichita Tigers that even if we’re down, we’re not quitting until the game is over. It shows the rest of the league not to count the Scorpions out, because they have me now.” It was the right amount of cocky and confident. “I don’t believe in quitting, no matter how many points we’re down.”
“I think we all saw that tonight. I think it’s safe to say that you’re going to be a fun player to watch this season.” I smiled what I hoped was a friendly smile. “Not that you weren’t a fun player to watch as a Fox. Confession: you were always one of my favorites to watch on their team, and I’m ecstatic that you’re here now. I have a feeling I’ll be seeing a lot of you this season.”
Why did that feel like a threat? Did that mean I was going to have to deal with a lot of press now that I was a Scorpion? I kept the smile plastered on my face, even though I felt my stomach sinking.
That sinking stomach feeling didn’t go away until I was out of Y/N’s clutches and back in the locker room.
Notes
There you go, NotYourAverageReader. I have accepted your challenge. I have put a Y/N in here just for you. I hope you enjoy your new career as a sports reporter for SEN.
4
Notes
Okay, I’m freaking out, and this is my distraction. My manager emailed me today. I have a meeting with her tomorrow. The rumors are true. At least three people have been called in and never came back, so I’m guessing this is about to be it. Am I catastrophizing? Yes. I am. I’m prone to doing that. But I’m also facing down the very real opportunity of being that weird guy who lives in his parents’ basement. I don’t want to be that guy.
But hey, you are all going to benefit from it, because we get some more Milo and Rowan time.
Milo
“What are you doing down there?”
