Page 31 of Zone
Melody
They sound like a fun group.
K-Brad
They’re the best. They’d advise you to tell it to me straight. How’s it looking for tonight?
An actual laugh bursts through my lips, and I shake my head, composing my reply.
Melody
Nice try. I’m still not your coach. I suggest you talk to the people who are paid to tell you how to play.
K-Brad
They’re not as cute as you are.
Melody
Puppies are cute. Have a good game, Mr. Bradford. I’ll be watching.
K-Brad
So formal, Miss Dunne. I’m sure you will.
* **
The Seattle gamewas even more stressful than the game against Arizona. Lindsey and I both spent the majority of the time pacing the living room, alternately screaming, shouting, and crouching to the floor with our heads in our hands.
“Don’t @ me, K-Brad, but talent clearly isn’t your problem,” I say as we head into halftime. “Discipline is.”
The comments section of the pod goes insane with hearts, angry emojis, laugh-crying emojis. The fans are all over it as well, leaving their own comments, kitchen-themed and otherwise.
The second half is as fraught as the first. I’m watching the game in my headset with the attached mic, and with every long pass he misses, every run that is blocked, the tension in my chest twists tighter.
“I hope they have extra defibrillators ready to go at Ochsner,” I note. “I expect many of y’all will be needing a jump after this game.”
Another flood of comments and laugh-crying emojis fills the screen. I’m sitting in front of the television chewing my thumbnail as I watch Knox fall back, scanning the downfield like he always does. It’s his go-to move, and thankfully this time, Baker finds an opening.
He fires a perfect spiral, directly into the receiver’s arms for a touchdown. They make the extra point, and the final score is a squeaker, 14-9 win.
Falling back in my chair, I exhale heavily, issuing my final verdict on this game. The defensive line is there. They saved the game. Again.
“K-Brad’s biggest issue is he wants the long pass, the quick score. Say it with me, Saints Nation,Take the checkdown!”
Our comments section blows up with all-caps repeats and a thousand up-votes. Of course TMI is on it. They post a lengthy critique, heavily quoting my show as their lead storyunder the headline, “QP TO K-BRAD: TAKE THE CHECKDOWN!!!”
My lips twist as I see it go live almost instantly, and the snarky comments immediately begin rolling in. I actually feel bad. Then I’m furious.
Standing, I toss my headset onto the desk and growl as I cross my arms, staring at the comments blowing up my laptop.
Lindsey dances into the den sipping a margarita and holding one out to me, then she stops mid-prace, frowning when she sees my face. “What’s wrong?”
“This is exactly how he wants me to feel!” I turn, uncrossing my arms to take the drink from her hand. “He wants to get close so I’ll feel bad when he plays a completely undisciplined game, and I call him on it.”
Her glee melts into worry. “Do you feel bad?”
“Of course, I do. Don’t ask me why. It’s not like he stopped being the guy who yelled at me in the Uber, or who told me to get back in the kitchen.”
