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“He is an absolute delight. Don’t worry about him. You go do what you do best!” Shauna kisses me on the cheek and wishes me luck. If she’s nervous, she doesn't show it, unlike Scott who’s still caught in a funk.
“Coach,” I greet Hank Miller as I walk up to the stage where the press conference will be held. The coach just nods. Jesus, is he being paid not to speak to me? Did I sleep with his daughter or something?
An assistant quickly runs up to me and while I decline offers to put on makeup for the cameras, he quickly checks my hair and straightens my suit.
A loud cheer does the rounds of the hall as Javier Romero steps on to the stage followed by the coach of his team. He raises his arms and greets the crowds like he’s just won a heavyweight bout. From the corner of my eye, I see glum faces in my entourage, miffed at the way the media seems biased in favor of Javier.
Finally the conference starts and they ask Javier about his experiences in the US so far. The Argentine goes into a rehearsed speech that makes me yawn. I chuckle at the thought of actually yawning, knowing that it’d cause another scandal.
When the media turns to my side, they choose to ask questions of Hank Miller. While I’m relieved that I’ve been left alone for the most part, on the other hand, I’m annoyed that my own coach refuses to confirm whether I’ll be starting in the Cup Final or not. I’m bolted out of my thoughts by the sound of my name being spoken.
“It must feel good to have recovered from that terrible injury so soon?” A woman reporter with blonde hair asks.
“Absolutely,” I say, deciding to keep my responses short. The media doesn’t do any favors for me, so why should I give them soundbites?
“Are you ready to play in the final?”
“I'm always ready to serve my team. It all depends on the coach.” I throw the ball back in the court of Coach Miller, who doesn’t seem too pleased with the answer.
“Do you think all these off the field scandals will have an effect on the coach’s decision?” Another reporter asks. Jeez, he’s right there, why not ask him?
“I hope not,” I smile.
“In the last month, you've been the subject of one scandal after another. Multiple women have slandered you for your behavior as well. Do you think the team and the fans are beginning to question your priorities?”
“For me, there is no question of priorities. Women come and go, but football always remains.” I smirk, and a few faces smile in the crowd too. I’m pleased with my reply at first but as I catch a glimpse of Shauna, with her head in her hands, it dawns on me that this statement will come back to bite me in the ass.
“Soccer may be just a game but women are a crucial part of our society. Where I come from, we respect our women and treat them like equals. We don’t treat them like objects who come and go,” Javier interrupts. The media erupts in applause at his statement. He smiles, turns to look at me and smirks.
Fuck.
“Javier, now that David is back from his injury and might play the final, are you worried that it might not go as easy for your team?”
“Does’t matter whether he plays or doesn’t. We will win anyways. Maybe Mr. David will be more comfortable watching the game at home with a new woman that he might want to seduce tonight.” He smirks and once again the press laughs.
I just smile politely. What else can a man do when he’s the butt of everyone’s jokes?
“Have you two talked about the incident at the World Cup Final when David assaulted you?” A reporter asks Javier.
“He has not apologized, if that is what you're asking. It was the juvenile, violent act of a man who is a sore loser. But in my heart I've forgiven him that.”
They had to drag it out didn’t they. This is the moment that I’ve been dreading ever since Javier came out of retirement to play in the league.
“David, now that you both are here, are you going to apologize to Javier?”
Goddammit! I want to tell them the whole story about how Javier goaded me, but I know that loudmouth would deny it immediately. Given the impeccable reputation I’ve built so far, no one would believe my side of the story. I wonder if apologizing to Javier would make me seem like a better man, if it would improve my public image… but I decide not to play the media’s game. I’m done letting them impact my life.
“I regret my action. It was uncalled for,” I say calmly. “If it weren’t for that, I'm certain that we would’ve gone on to win the World Cup.”
“What about the apology?” They press.
“There is no apology required. Javier knows what really happened. Why don’t you ask him about that?”
As the media attention turns on him, Javier pales a little but then quickly puts on hi practiced media face.
“All I know is that this is a crazy man, who will cheat or do anything to win. When he starts losing, he resorts to violence. I don't condone his behavior but it’s okay that he will not apologize. I've forgiven him anyway. I just hope he doesn’t pull another stunt when I'm beating him in another final,” Javier smiles. They’re eating out of his hands. This is going much worse than I thought.
The rest of the press conference isn’t any different. The media sticks to their darling Javier and I’m largely ignored, something I’m thankful for. Coach Miller, however, does give me a disapproving look as we walk off the podium and I’m certain that only a miracle can get me a chance to play in the final.
