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Keeping the players below the media’s radar should prevent further distractions. Unless Gerald had other plans.
Andrea could hear a pin drop in the Empire Arena Thursday night. She was baffled by the debacle on the court as the Monarchs struggled against the Cleveland Cavaliers in game three of the series. Their performance wasn’t much better than it had been during the first two games. What had become of the Monarchs who’d defied the odds to attain a play-off berth?
Barron’s cautious movements made Andrea think the player had yet another hangover. Jamal, Anthony, Serge, and Vincent tried to cover for him, but their movements were tentative as well. The younger Cavaliers were forcing the aging Monarchs to play faster than they were accustomed. By halftime, the Cavaliers led the Monarchs 58 to 36.
“Andy, you look like you’re about to cry.” Jenna Madison, from The New York Times, leaned back in her chair.
Jenna had pitched her voice to be heard above the song, “I’ve Got the Magic in Me” by B.o.B. and featuring Rivers Cuomo. The Empire Arena was playing the single to entertain their fans during the break.
“There’s no cheering in the press box. There’s no crying, either,” the New York Daily News’s Frederick Pritchard threw out the modified adage in a distracted voice.
As soon as halftime started, Frederick had settled into his default pose of squinting through his rimless glasses at his computer monitor. Frederick didn’t have much time for human interaction. However, his mind housed an encyclopedia’s breath of knowledge—names, stats, and quotes—on all the NBA teams.
“We’re not in a press box.” Andrea turned back to the table and her laptop. She’d typed a few more observations about the game’s second quarter into her news draft, including the Monarchs’ criminally low points percentage and their missing-in-action defense.
This was the team’s first of two consecutive home appearances in their best-of-seven-games series against the Cavaliers. Would the Cinderella team be able to win at least one? Or would they be swept out of the play-offs on their home court?
On Andrea’s other side, the New York Post reporter, Sean Wolf, nudged her with a bony elbow. “Hey, Benson. What are you going to do now that the Monarchs fired your confidential s
ource?”
Andrea turned a cold look on the Post’s tall, thin reporter. She raised her voice so their colleagues around them could hear. “Do you get your information from the Insider blog, Sean? Or maybe you are the Insider.”
Startled amusement from the journalists around them brought a blush to the young man’s cheeks. Sean’s hazel eyes hardened. He scraped his lank brown hair back from his forehead “If anyone has insider information, it would be you, Benson.”
Jenna tut-tutted at the arrogant sports reporter. “Now, Sean. Don’t dish it if you can’t take it.”
Andrea blinked at Jenna’s defense of her. For three years, the other reporters had treated her like a leper. Her article on Gerald’s attempts to move the Monarchs out of Brooklyn must have cured her. Her colleagues were speaking to her again. Was this a sign that the higher profile news outlets were willing to take her back?
Andrea turned to Jenna. “Who do you think the Insider is?”
Sean offered his thoughts. “That’s obvious. It’s one of the bench players who wants more game time.”
Jenna chuckled. “Spoken like a true armchair athlete, Sean. Still bitter you weren’t picked for varsity?”
Sean glared at the glamorous journalist. “Do you still wish you’d been born a man?”
Jenna’s smile stretched into a cold grin. “No. Do you?”
Andrea covered her laughter with a cough. She leaned forward to better see Jenna seated on the other side of Frederick. “Do you have another theory?”
Jenna shrugged. “I always disagree with Sean. I believe the blogger’s a woman.”
Andrea was surprised. “So do I.”
Jenna scanned the seats on the other side of the court. It included a section reserved for Monarchs players’ families. Many teams offered seating in the special section only to the relatives of their five starters. But the Monarchs offered the seats to all players’ families. It was usually filled with wives, children, and girlfriends.
Jenna continued. “It could be an ex-girlfriend or ex-wife.”
Andrea followed the other woman’s gaze. “That would be hard to narrow down. Some of the players change girlfriends several times during the season.”
Sean’s chuckle seemed admiring. “That’s true. But for all we know, the Insider could be one of us.”
“You think one of us is freelancing as the Insider?” That thought had occurred to Andrea as well. She forced herself to appear casual as she glanced up and down the media row. Her gaze hesitated on the New York Horn’s Kirk West. She noticed the reporter looking back at her.
“She’s not an ex-wife or an ex-girlfriend.” Frederick spoke from his seat between Andrea and Jenna. “She’s an ex-employee.”
Andrea blinked at Frederick. “But the Monarchs haven’t fired anyone in years. Why would an ex-employee start a blog to blast the team now?”
