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“Vež.” He grabs the back of my neck, pulls me in, knocks his forehead against mine. “I’ve missed your shit.”
I’ve missed this. The lobby is filling with men I haven’t seen since November and the noise is building in a way that makes the front-desk staff glance at each other and choose to look down at their screens. Novotný comes through the revolving door arguing with Polášek about a Champions League match from six months ago, both of them already too loud for the marble floors. Šíma is sitting on a luggage cart he is definitely not supposed to be sitting on, eating an energy bar and narrating arrivals like a commentator.
“And here’s Vež, the tower of the back line, looking lean, looking focused, looking like a man who definitely has not been staring at his phone for three months instead of returning his agent’s calls.”
“I return calls,” I say.
“You return calls the way Novotný returns passes. Eventually, and to the wrong person.”
Novotný looks up from across the lobby. “I heard that.”
“You were meant to.”
“Who’s rooming with Novotný?” I say. “Because last time he snored through an earthquake.”
“I’d rather sleep on the pitch,” Kovár says.
“The pitch has better air conditioning,” Polášek adds, and Novotný throws an energy-bar wrapper at him that lands two feet short.
Šíma slides off the cart. “I’m filing that as inconclusive. The wrapper landed but the intent was unclear.”
“The intent was at his face,” Polášek says.
“And yet the face is unhit. We need to talk about your accuracy, Novotný.”
“I’m rusty.”
“You’re rusty in Champions League and you’re rusty throwing trash at Polášek. The pattern is concerning.”
Kovár has wandered over and picked the wrapper up off the marble. He peels it open the rest of the way and starts eating what’s inside.
“Kovár, that’s Novotný‘s,” Polášek says.
“Novotný threw it. That,” Kovár says with his mouth full, “is on him.”
Tomáš appears beside me. He drops his bag next to mine and leans his shoulder against my arm, the way he’s done for ten years when we’re standing in the same place.
“How was the flight?” I ask.
“Long. I sat next to a woman who wanted to tell me about her cat for seven hours.”
“You love cats.”
“I love cats in small portions. Seven hours is not a small portion.” He watches the lobby for a second. Šíma is now providing live commentary on Novotný‘s haircut. “Good to be here.”
“Yes, good to be here.”
He waits. “Have you signed the contract with Bundesliga yet?”
“I’m thinking about it.”
“You’ve been thinking about it for three months.”
“It’s a big decision, Tomáš, to stay in Munich. To stay with the team.”
“It’s the captaincy, Dami. What’s the decision?”
“I said I’m thinking about it.”
