Page 95 of Her Game Plan

“Is it?” Chris doesn’t break eye contact with Hugo, and it’s clear the general manager doesn’t like the accusation in his tone.

“With respect,” he says, “it’s the reality of the cap.”

With respect? Really? He never once offered me an ounce of respect, let alone actually showed it.

“Okay, let’s walk through it.” Chris calmly slides the sheet of paper I prepared forward, taking a moment to examine it, as if he’s seeing it for the first time.

“Abrams. Edge rusher. We signed him two years ago in a top-of-the-market deal. Walk me through that decision.”

Hugo shifts in his seat. “Premium position. We needed pressure.”

“And did we get it?” Chris leans back again, his gaze not moving from Hugo.

“He’s been solid.” Hugo waves like it’s obvious.

Chris purses his lips. “Interesting. Because the stats I’m looking at show his PR at seven percent. Even if we pretend that’s average, that’s twenty-three million against the cap. Pretty expensive average.”

A flicker of irritation crosses Hugo’s face. “You don’t build a defense overnight, and not every bet you make pans out. That’s the way this business goes. I thought you understood that.”

It’s very clear he thought I didn’t understand it.

“No. But you also can’t pay for something early just because you’re overconfident.”

Chris turns his attention back to the paper. “And Paulson. We extended him early. Paid peak price for declining performance.”

The room is quiet now as Chris keeps going, “Safety contract. Backloaded. Void years.”

Hugo huffs. “We needed flexibility at the time.”

“And now we’re constrained by decisions you made to solve short-term problems.” Chris leans forward slightly. “And the fix you’re proposing? Trade a player who is actually performing at an elite level.” He chuckles, though we all know he doesn’t find it funny.

Hugo straightens. “It’s not about performance. It’s about allocation of resources.”

Chris smiles like the cat who caught the canary. “Exactly. Allocation. We’re allocated like we have three superstars on defense. We don’t.”

“If we trade Devine, we reset the window. It gives us picks and cap flexibility—”

“And we lose the only reason we were even competitive this season,” Chris cuts in. “No.”

It’s final, and Hugo knows it.

As much as it hurts my ego, Dad would never override Chris’ decision about this like he would mine. But that’s a conversation for me and my therapist on Thursday.

“Options, Nelson?” Chris asks.

He’s ready. We texted late last night, working out a plan, and then he sent through his final recommendations this morning.

“We designate Abrams as a post-June 1st cut. That frees up eighteen. We can explore a trade for Paulson, but we might have to eat some salary. We’re stuck with the safety for the upcoming season, but can explore a few options next offseason.”

“Fine,” Chris agrees. “Do it.”

Nelson glances at me briefly. “And Devine, we can restructure. Convert some salary to bonus and create a bit of space.”

I can’t help but cut in, “Have you spoken with his agent?”

Hugo bristles at the question, and I’m not sure whether it’s because I’m asking it or because normally he’s the one making the outreach to agents before handing it over to his team to finalize.

Nelson shakes his head. “Not yet. Wanted to wait to see how today went.”