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“How long have you been dating Tripp Cooper?” he rephrases.
“Can we really call it dating? We’ve only been out in public once, and I feel like the term dating implies multiple outings, not just one.”
“How long have you been seeing him?”
Damn, he’s persistent. I knew two out and proud men on the same team would get attention, but jeez.
“Since I first looked at him. Just like I’ve been seeing you since the first time I looked at you. Recognition is pretty cool like that. Did you know there’s a condition where you don’t recognize people’s faces? I can never remember what it’s called—I don’t have it obviously—but I’ve always wondered about it."
I point to the next reporter since that one’s out of questions.
“Did you know Tripp was the son of Senator Charles Cooper when you met him?”
“Is that customary? I wasn’t aware that was something I should know about people I just met. I’ll probably need to make a list because I know a lot of people, and this could get confusing.”
She, too, sits with a harumph, and I point to the next.
“Bit of a rocky start this season, first the injury then the drama with Senator Cooper after the charity event, are you a distraction for this team?” He tilts his recorder so the microphone is pointed at me.
Ouch. That’s not the direction I thought this would go, but at least now we’re talking about hockey.
“Both of those things are in the past, so I don’t believe they’ll be a factor going forward.”
“Maybe not, but you’re also one of two openly gay men on the same roster, and that’s a unique scenario that might take the focus off the team.”
“I’m not overly concerned, seeing as the only people focusing on it are members of the press.”
“You don’t think two gay players on the same team is newsworthy?” he follows up.
“Statistically speaking, one in every eight men identifies as gay, which doesn’t include anyone identifying as bi or pan or demi, and there are twenty on this roster, so… If there are two gay men on the team, I’d say we’re right in line with the national average.” If there’s one thing travel gives me plenty of time for, it’s reading, and I may have brushed up on a few facts in preparation for the questions I knew would come my way.
“If there are two gay men?” He arches a skeptical brow.
I look to the players and coaches lining the wings of the room. “Did I miss an announcement that I’m gay? I don’t remember making a statement like that.”
“You’re dating a man,” the reporter presses.
“When was that established?”
“You don’t think this exchange will be distracting to your teammates?” He changes tactics.
“I’m only answering the questions you ask.” I hold my hands up like I’m innocent.
“You’re not answering, you’re evading.”
“Ask me a question about hockey and I’ll answer.”
“This team fell short in the playoffs last year and is already four games out of first. Can you turn things around?” He studies me critically.
“Considering we just won today, I’d say so.”
“That’s only one win.”
“I have faith in us.”
“Why?”
“Because if we fall seven times, we’ll get up eight.” I wink, just for Tripp, who I know is watching.
