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He turns his laptop around and shows me the screen. He’s got it pulled up to Bleacher Beat, one of the biggest and more reputable sports blogs on the internet. In big, bold letters, the headline on the screen reads, “I Sold Dawson Davis PEDs.” Just below the headline is my current team photo followed by a lengthy article that quotes an anonymous source who claims to have been my PED supplier for the last decade.
“That is utter bullshit. Randy, tell me you aren’t buying this bullshit.”
“Because it’s on the Beat and not on some anonymous hate blog, the league took notice, Dawson. They’re sending somebody to investigate—”
“Tell me you don’t believe this bullshit, Randy. Tell me you don’t believe I’d actually use fucking PEDs,” I press. “Somebody is trying to fuck with me. I have never used PEDs. Not once in all my years in the league. I’ve never had one dirty test in my eighteen years in the league. Not once!”
“I know that, Dawson. And no, I don’t believe you’d use the stuff. I know what kind of man you are and you’d never cheat yourself, the organization, or the game that way,” he says. “But what I believe and what the league thinks are two very different things.”
“Jesus Christ,” I mutter and run a hand across my face. “This is fucking unreal.”
“I believe you, Dawson. But we have to let this process play out.”
“What does that mean?”
He sighs and looks down at his desk. “It means I have to keep you off the ice until the league finishes their investigation.”
“What? Are you fucking kidding me? We’ve got a game tomorrow night, Randy.”
“And the league has made it known they don’t want you practicing or playing until this is over.”
“Randy, this is bullshit. We’re making a push for the playoffs—”
“I know. And you’re not wrong. This is bullshit, but the Commissioner himself called me and asked me to sit you until—”
“Fuck the Commissioner,” I growl as I jump to my feet. “I’m innocent, Randy. I am fucking innocent. This is all bullshit.”
“My hands are tied, Dawson. There is literally nothing I can do about this. We have to be patient and let this process play out.”
“Piss test me, Randy. I’ll take a test right now. I will fill that coffee mug on your desk while you watch.”
“It’s not that easy. And you’ve been around long enough to know that. Now… just go home. Go spend time with this new girl you’re seeing. Have her help you get your mind off all this shit. Everything is going to work out.”
“Yeah. Sure.”
I storm out of Randy’s office and slam the door behind me, silently vowing to myself that I’m going to find whoever did this and beat them to a pulp.
13
DAWSON
“Ican’t believe they suspended you,” Devon says.
“They’re not calling it a suspension,” I growl. “Not officially.”
“What happened, Dawson?”
I shake my head and tell her about my conversation with Randy. She listens to me and as I describe the allegations made against me, I see a flash of something like recognition and fear in her eyes. It was there for just a moment and then it was gone, replaced by a glimmer of concern again. But I’m sure I saw it.
“What is it?” I ask.
“Nothing. I just can’t believe that happened.”
“Yeah, that makes two of us.”
“What are you going to do?”
“What can I do? All I can do is sit still and wait for the league to test me and make their decision.”
