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He turns to me with surprise. "Brad, you made it. I thought you wouldn't be here until next week." He holds out his hand for me to shake.
"There was nothing keeping me in England, and besides, I figured the sooner I get to know the team the better, right? The season has already started."
He gives me a nod, but I can tell he's conflicted. "It's good to have you here. The girls have been kept in the dark about the change. I thought it was for the best until you got here. They don't know I'm sick," he says quietly.
I feel for him, I really do. This must be hard, handing over his team. And for this reason, as well, but he needs to focus on getting better. "Understandable. I can just shadow you until you're ready to tell them," I offer, trying to ease the blow for him.
"No, man, we can tell them tonight. I need to take a step back. I start treatment next week, and the doctors don't know how it's going to go, so it's best you're here to support them." I'm sure the news will go down badly. Mitch has been the coach of this team for twelve years, and he is extremely respected by his players. They have been getting consistently better, and last year even made the final, losing in a penalty shootout.
"Alright, mate, no worries. I'm ready to take over. Give me a rundown on your players." I watch the team running drills from the sidelines. They're not bad, but I can still see room for improvement if we're going to win the comp this year. We'll need to bring something truly exceptional, because all the other teams will be watching us as the ones to beat. The pressure is high for a new coach, but pressure isn't something that has ever bothered me before. I thrive on it.
"Girls, let's break into defense and attack. Luna, I want to see you running the sideline then crossing it to either Darcy or Andrea." The team takes off into the drill he was talking about. I watch them, taking notes in my head with the names he's giving me. It's hard to make out faces, as the light is low. There's a blonde, the striker. She has a great boot on her, and her accuracy is spot-on. "Who's the blonde with the braids?" I ask Mitch.
"Andrea Harper, she's the one to watch. She's a firecracker, full of sass, and runs her mouth when things don't go her way, but she's one of the best in the game. A massive fan of yours, as well."
The way she plays, she reminds me of myself. You can tell she gives it everything she has, absolutely no fear. But attitude is something I won't stand for. I'll need to work closely with her, because I know she will be our key to winning this year.
The team finishes running drills and makes their way back into the training shed for a rundown of this week's game. They chat among themselves noisily. The vibe for this team is positive, and why wouldn't it be? They're having a great year so far. It's a good thing, but from my experience, you're only as good as your last game. Things can change quickly.
We make our way up to the meeting room and I see a familiar face as soon as I walk in. Ava runs over to me, throwing her arms around me in an embrace.
"Brad, it's so good to see you," she says warmly.
"You too." I hug her back. Ava is the assistant coach and the one who told me about this job. When she heard about the opening, she knew she wanted someone she could work with, and she also knew I was available. We lean against the tables at the back, waiting for Mitch to talk to his team.
In the light of the shed, it's the first time I've a chance to see the players' faces. I try to take them in and ask Mitch names and position. He points them out, and I take it all in as best I can. When he points out Andrea, my jaw nearly hits the floor.I'm a mechanic who knows nothing about soccermy ass. It's the girl I met at the club when I came to LA for my interview. Now I know exactly what Mitch was talking about with the attitude. This girl has it in spades. And worse, after the night we shared, I already know she fucking hates me with a passion.
I massage the back of my neck uncomfortably. This situation is not ideal. I just hope she doesn't say anything or this new job might be in jeopardy before I even start.
"You nervous or something?" asks Ava, giving me a look.
"Nah, I'm good."
She gives me a look then turns her attention back to Mitch as he addresses the group. I stand back, leaning up against a table, giving him the space to say what he needs to. "Girls, I have some news. I have been given some unfortunate health news. I have been diagnosed with Non-Hodgkin's Lymphoma. My prognosis is good, but I need to start treatment immediately. Meaning I need to take a step back from actively coaching the team." The gasps and mutters of concern for their leader are voiced. You can see how much the team adores him. They're going to be some very big shoes to fill.
Ava gives my arm a squeeze of encouragement. And I'm glad she's here. I get the feeling I'm going to need someone on my side for this adjustment.
I watch Andrea; she looks like she's going to cry. The girl beside her takes her hand and laces it with hers. As another comes to stand with them, the three of them huddle together, exchanging looks as Mitch explains what he needs to say. What a terrible situation.
Andrea's expression changes to anger immediately as her gaze finds me and she connects the dots. What are the chances that the one and only girl I've slept with since my marriage fell apart is the best player on the new team I'm going to be coaching? Pretty fucking low, I would say, and yet somehow, this is the scenario playing out before me.
Andy—or Andrea—bumps arms with the small black-haired girl next to her, and she narrows her eyes at me as well, with her best death stare. She has clearly filled her friend in on what happened. Fuck, I'm screwed. My team is going to hate me before I've even started.
And it's all just a misunderstanding.
The note she left in red lipstick on my bathroom mirror, the morning after the night we spent together, was enough to tell me why she left in the early hours with a hard slam of the hotel door. She thinks I was cheating on my wife with her. But that couldn't be further from the truth. Yes, I'm still technically married, but we're separated, so much so that we're now living in different countries. Me in America, trying to start over again, and her with my ex-best friend and teammate, Byron, back in England.
Mitch continues, "But it's not all bad news. We have been lucky enough to gain the best striker in the game as your new coach. He will be working closely with Ava as he learns the ins and outs of our team dynamics. Girls, meet Brad Swift. Your new coach."
All sets of eyes are now on me, and the enormity of the situation I have signed up for really settles in. I plaster on a confident smile and step forward to introduce myself to the team. Somehow, standing in front of twenty fierce female athletes is one of the most intimidating things I have ever done. Their eyes are all glued to me. They've just been dealt the devastating blow that their coach is leaving them, and I'm supposed to somehow tell them I know what I'm doing and it's all going to be okay. When really I have no fucking idea what I'm doing. I've never coached before. I know how to play, and yes, I was the captain for many years, and I'm great at encouraging others, but it's not the same thing.
I take a deep breath. "Ladies, I'm sure the news of losing such a wonderful coach is devastating, to say the least, but if you put your trust in me, I'm sure we will be able to work together and bring home a win this year."
The scowl I get from Andy and her friends tells me she's not on board with this at all. I'm going to have my work cut out for me to win her over. Or she will just have to get over herself and realize I'm in charge now, and she's going to have to do what I say or suffer the consequences. But most of the others on the team offer warm, friendly smiles, and I relax a little.
There's chatter among the girls, and I flip over the white board to explain how we're going to win our next game. Ava gives me a nod of approval, and Mitch agrees with me, and most of the team looks satisfied with what I have to say. Mitch dismisses them and they start to filter out.
Some of the players come and introduce themselves, excited to be on my team. Maybe this won't be so bad after all.
