Page 53 of Sportsball is for Lovers

eighteen

. . .

Jared

Jacky is a formidable woman.She studies me from behind her desk, one hand cupping her swollen belly. She makes me sit in silence for a good few minutes, evaluating me.

I’m not used to being on this side of the scrutiny. Usually, it’s me interviewing players and staff, not the other way around.

“Why do you want this job?” she finally asks.

I don’t.

But I want a job, and this is what’s available.

Maybe. Possibly.

I open my mouth, then pause.

“I know this is temporary,” I tell her. “I know it doesn’t fit with my experience. It gets my foot in the door to hop to a broadcast or media position with the team if one becomes available.”

She hums, rubbing her belly. There’s movement from within and she flinches.

“Motherfucker—” She hisses.

“Are you feeling okay?” I ask cautiously.

“I’m eight and a half months pregnant with twins,” she snarls. “No, I am not feeling okay.”

I wince. “That doesn’t sound fun.”

She blows out a breath. “I’m sorry for snapping. I’m really feeling the discomfort today. And frankly, I don’t have any desire to interview some generic dude for a role he’s not qualified for, when I have someone already in line for the job, only for him to jump ship at the worst possible time.”

She pauses. “But I do appreciate your candor.”

“I need a job,” I say simply. “I was with the Denver hockey team for four years. Before that, I did a few years with Milwaukee’s AHL team and two seasons with Greenville’s ECHL team. I’ve been around the league for a while.”

Jacky eyes me. “Why did you leave Denver?”

“My segment had the lowest ratings this past season,” I say simply. “Quite frankly, when the team plays as poorly as it did this year, it’s difficult to find positive things to say about them. And honestly, I have enough integrity that I’m not going to sugarcoat and pretend the worst team in the league is anything but a disappointment.”

She snorts. “I bet management was happy with that.”

“They weren’t,” I say flatly. “I wasn’t cruel, I wasn’t mean. I was factual. My specialty is statistics and play analysis, and when the play is as poor as they were…” I shrug. “I know hockey. I’ve been around the sport for a decade. Whether I’m working on the media side or not, I believe I can be of use to your organization, especially with the team pushing for the playoffs.”

Jacky narrows her eyes.

“Put me in, coach. Wherever you need help.” Steadily, I meet her gaze. “I understand you have someone in position to cover your role. There must be an opening somewhere, something that needs to be backfilled. I’m good with a temp contract. I’m good with something more permanent. I love hockey and want to stay in the league.”

She hums, flipping through my resume and references list. “You know Vanessa Morgan?”

“She referred me, yes,” I sidestep.

Jacky stares at me.

“We have mutual friends who connected us,” I finally explain. “I am very grateful to her for putting my application forward. I don’t know her well, but now that I’m living in Boston, I’m looking forward to getting to know her better.”

Or at all—since we haven’t met in person yet. A few messages exchanged over email is all I’ve heard from her. Hell, I don’t even know what she looks like.