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“No fighting?” Marchetti looks personally wounded. “What do they do when someone pisses them off?”
“They fall down and hold their leg.”
“That’s not a sport. That’s theater.”
Thompson adjusts his sunglasses. “You’ve been in the league how many years? And you’ve fought once, Marchetti. Once. And you lost.”
“I didn’t lose. I was surprised. There’s a difference.”
“You were surprised by a fist?”
“I was surprised by the angle of the fist. The fist itself was expected.”
“In hockey,” I say, “there is a code. If a player hits your teammate, you respond. There are rules for the fighting. You agree to it first.”
“Wait.” Marchetti stops walking. “You’re telling me they don’t even have THAT? No fighting code?”
“No. They have yellow cards. A referee shows you a piece of paper.”
“Paper.” Marchetti stares at me. “A man fouls your teammate and the consequence is STATIONERY?”
“The stationery has authority, Marchetti. Two yellow cards and you leave the match.”
“Hockey: you punch someone. Soccer: you get a sticky note from a crossing guard. Thompson, are you hearing this?”
“I’m hearing it. I’m choosing not to engage.”
Davis is ahead of us filming. Mercedes-Benz Stadium rises into the late afternoon, all steel and glass and angles. The plaza is packed. Green and yellow for Brazil. Red and blue and white for Czechia. Between them every nation that landed in Atlanta and didn’t want to miss the day. The concrete is radiating June up through my shoes.
“Hájek, how does the scoring work?” Thompson asks. “Is there a clock that counts down?”
“The clock counts up. To ninety minutes.”
“Up?”
“Yes. Up.”
“Why?” Thompson pushes his sunglasses up for a moment.
“I do not know why.” I shrug. “It is simply how it works.”
“That’s chaos. That’s a clock that doesn’t know its own purpose.”
“I think the clock knows its purpose. It is you who does not understand the clock.”
“Oh SHIT,” Marchetti says, pointing. “Hájek just came for you.”
“He stated a fact. I’m choosing not to be offended.”
“Also,” I say, “there is added time. The referee decides how many extra minutes to play after ninety. Nobody knows exactly when the match will end.”
Thompson stops walking. “The referee just picks a number?”
“Based on stoppages. Injuries. Substitutions.”
“So the game could end at ninety-two or ninety-seven and nobody knows until it happens?”
“Correct.”
