I leaned forward, meeting his eyes. “I disagree with you on that one. The industry is changing thanks to the surge in popularity with the millennials, Gen Z, and women in particular. They don’t want us to just report numbers. They want a connection. They want to root for someone they can trust and believe in.”
He shook his head. “You are underestimating the traditional man fan base.”
I opened my mouth to tell him how wrong he was, but Daphene beat me to it. She leaned forward, resting her elbows on the table. “Becca has a point, Joe, and I think she’s on to something here. That’s why I think we should change up our coverage a bit.”
His jaw tightened. “What kind of change?”
“How about this? Why don’t you focus on stats and analysis that ‘all the men’ care about, and Becca can be the one to show the fans who the players are off the field?”
This wasn’t exactly where I had pictured my career going when I was already trying twice as hard to be taken seriously. But complaining about it would only make me sound difficult, so I kept my mouth shut. While I still wasn’t sure how I felt about it, I knew Daphene was trying to help me grow, so I had faith that she knew what she was doing.
He leaned back, crossing his arms as if that were the most absurd thing he’d ever heard. “You want her to write a personal puff piece?”
She turned to Joe with a raised eyebrow. “No, Joe. I want substantive reporting with a more personal approach. You know, like what motivates players like Nate Sandler, what keeps him up at night. This team is under a lot of pressure this season, and the public is invested in how things play out, and I’m not just talking about when he’s suited up on game day.”
Joe laughed while wiping a finger along his white mustache. “You want her to get close to Nate Sandler? Good luck with that. The guy hates the press, and I’m pretty sure Becca isn’t his favorite person at the moment.”
It was a well-known fact that Nate Sandler limited his sit-down interviews. He declined almost every invitation, and if he did agree, it was on his terms, and he didn’t share squat.
She leaned forward. “Are you challenging me, Joe?”
He opened his mouth and closed it. Daphene hit a nerve, and it almost pulled a smile out of me.
He exhaled through his nose, making it known that this bothered him.
“Of course not, and I don’t mean to overstep here, but these types of interviews take time and finesse. One wrong question and you’re done. I’ve spent years building relationships with these players. I could reach out to him and invite him for a beer.”
“Joe,” Daphene said sternly. “You have been covering the team for decades, and in all that time, you have never gotten anything substantial out of him. I think I’ll take my chances.”
“She’s relatively young,” he added. “Nate Sandler isn’t just a random player. He is the face of the franchise. Writing a piece like this takes experience. I don’t think this is a smart move.”
Of course he didn’t. Joe thought he knew everything.
Daphene stared him down. “I didn’t ask for your opinion.”
He held up his hands in surrender. “Your call, but don’t say I didn’t warn you.”
He really believed that this was the wrong decision. I was surprised that he was letting it go.
“I understandwhy you’re not happy about this, but you’re going to have your hands full with the stats breakdown.” Hertone was softer now. “Becca is covering things from a different angle. You stay in your lane, and she stays in hers, and that’s final.”
He exhaled slowly. “I’m not trying to be a grump. Nate Sandler’s personal life is a closed book. I’m afraid the article won’t live up to your expectations and will be a big waste of time.”
What a prick. It was taking everything in me to hold back on the tongue-lashing I wanted to give him.
She crossed her arms. “If it blows up, that’s on me, but I’m confident that she can handle it.”
That shut him up.
Daphene handed me a folder. “We move forward today. Reach out to his PR team this afternoon and see if you can schedule a one-on-one.”
I blinked. “When do you want this completed by?”
“I’d like the first draft on my desk by next month, before they get too deep into the season.”
Fuck. One month to gain access to one of the most popular players in the league. Who gets sheltered by the press and hates interviews. Not to mention, after yesterday, I wasn’t sure if he would even take my calls.
I nodded, trying to hide the doubt spinning in my head. “Got it.”
