Present
I’d spent the morning looking at films of players out on the field still trying to make our roster. Pre-season started in a few weeks and we were going to have to seriously slash names off the list. Players weren’t exactly fighting to play for us, but the ones here had fire and something to prove. I liked being the underdog team because there was only one way to go.
“Well, what do we think?” Bill asked as he surveyed the players running routes, tackling blocking bags, and zigzagging through cone shuffle sprints. It looked completely chaotic to the untrained eye, but there was organization at each station.
Grayson meshed well with the team. He had stayed in shape because the Canadian Football League showed interest in him, but we nabbed him instead.
Jamal walked up before I could answer. “You know, Grayson shows a lot of promise. He’s patient, sets up in the pocket, and looks for what he can out on the field. I have a good feeling about this season,” Jamal said.
“I think he’s going to surprise everyone,” I said and meant it.
“We’re a young team but we have a lot of talent. And the players have a healthy respect for Moats so we just might win a game or two,” Jamal said.
My phone buzzed. I was scheduled to meet with the media in ten minutes. It was the first time I was talking to the press since becoming offensive coordinator. Terry wanted every journalist to be frothing at the mouth to get to me so he kept me quiet to build the suspense. He gave plenty of interviews about me but never put me in front of the microphones.
The Cheetahs’ media liaison spent an hour earlier this morning reviewing every question with me that could come up in the press conference. I was nervous because today’s interview wasn’t about me, it was going to be about the scandal. Sure, they would start off asking me generic, expectant questions like how do you like the job? And then the more personal questions like why you? Did other coaches within the organization want the job? But then they would inevitably ask me about my thoughts on the previous coach. The plan was to redirect attention to me, the first female offensive coordinator in the NFL picked to carry a new team to the playoffs, and not the sex offender whose downfall was still tarnishing the team.
I excused myself when my phone rang. “McCoy.” I didn’t recognize the number.
“Hey, babe. Good luck today.” It was my girlfriend, Lexi, who had moved with me to Connecticut not because we were serious, but because nothing was keeping her in Minnesota.
“Hey. Did you get a new phone?”
“I’m calling you through the app.”
“Oh, that’s right. Witness protection.” I laughed. She liked to use an app for her online business. She was a licensed psychologist and offered both phone and video sessions to customers all over the country.
We hadn’t spent a lot of time together since I took this job. My life hadn’t slowed down since the minute the Cheetahs approached me. I had only days to find our townhouse, and while it wasn’t ideal, it would work until I could find something permanent if my position here was a good fit.
“I won’t keep you. I just wanted to say you’re going to be great.”
“Thanks. I’m still a little nervous. They’ve prepped me for everything so I can’t imagine I’ll screw it up.”
“That’s the right attitude. Don’t let the journalists control the interview. They all suck anyway,” she said.
Lexi couldn’t stand how hateful the media could be toward women. They wanted us to succeed, yet they were the first to attack if we failed. I knew two women who walked away from the NFL because of the pressure that the media put on them, not because the job was too challenging.
“I’ve been rehearsing all morning,” I said.
“I’m sure you’ll do great. I mean, what’s the worst that could happen? You tell the truth? You give your opinion about a sexual predator? Who’s going to be upset about that?”
I sighed and rubbed my hand over my face. “I know I’m freaking out about nothing. I know Terry won’t throw me to the sharks. They are extremely sensitive to this sticky situation.”
“You’re right. They’ve got your back. It’ll be over in no time. What time do you think you’ll be home?”
“It’ll be another late night.” I heard her sigh. She hated my late hours. We almost broke up last year, but once the season was over, I was home by six and we were able to salvage our relationship. Even though she knew the new job would be the same kind of hours, she promised she would try to adjust. “But I’ll try to be home sooner.” I was greeted with silence. “Do you have a busy afternoon?”
“Just the normal calls. Speaking of which, I should go. Good luck.”
“Thanks.” I felt off after I disconnected the call. She wasn’t happy but I didn’t have time to give her right now. Maybe that would never happen. I missed my dog more than I missed her. That probably wasn’t the best sign of longevity for our relationship. “Hey, what’s the policy on pets?” I asked the group.
“What do you mean?” Jamal asked.
“I guess I’m asking if I can bring my dog to work.”
He pointed at me with the rolled-up mysterious paper still in his hand. “Technically, you’re the boss. You make the rules.”
He was right. And Crowbar would love to curl up in my office or sit by my side during practice. He was the most well-behaved dog on the planet. “Gotcha.”
“Too bad your dog isn’t a cat. Then we’d have a real mascot.” Jamal pointed to the new mascot, Champ the Cheetah, across the field who was taking selfies with the fans who showed up for training camp. People paid good money to be here and watch the new team in action. Some were curious about the Cheetahs, and some were here because of the veterans like Grayson and tackle Jeremy Pickles. It felt like a circus.
“I’m headed in for the press conference.” I checked my watch for the thousandth time. “Wrap up practice. It’s getting hot and we need to review the film.”
He nodded and blew his whistle. I jogged back to the offices and took a moment to look presentable. I shut the door to my office and slipped into a fresh polo and pressed khakis. My tan hid the dark circles from lack of sleep. I added a bit of makeup and brushed my hair. Bill knocked a second before I opened the door.
“You ready?”
“Yes, sir.” I matched his stride and we walked into the press room with confidence. It was right there with me until I saw a hundred people with lanyards and cameras around their necks, then it disappeared. The room went from loud chatter to instant quiet when I stood behind Bill.
“Please meet Sutton McCoy, the Cheetahs’ offensive coordinator. Let’s take it easy this first go-round.” Bill stepped back and allowed me to adjust the microphone. I was a few inches taller.
I cleared my throat. “Hello.” Hands shot up like a roomful of sixth graders waving to get my attention. Some even called out my name. I didn’t know a single person in the room. Did I call them out by what they were wearing? Plaid shirt guy with thick glasses? Woman wearing the hideously bright green dress? Dude who still looked like he was in high school with his baby face and swooping bangs?
“Les,” Bill’s voice boomed out, alleviating the stress of who to call on first.
A man with a receding hairline wearing a navy polo stood. “Coach McCoy, Lester Moore from ESPN. How has the reception been as the newest coach for the Cheetahs?”
Easy question. I put on a sweet smile and answered him honestly. “The reception has been warm and inviting. I get along well with the other coaches and the players take my advice. It’s been a very positive experience. It was a fight to get here, but well worth it.”
“A fight to get here? What do you mean?”
First question and I already fucked up. “When you have several people vying for the same job, it gets a little stressful when you are waiting for the call.” He sat down satisfied with the answer when more people raised their hands to be next. I knew eventually I would learn all their names, but in the meantime, Bill barked out names.
“Maria.”
She stood and looked at her phone. “Maria Cortez, Sports Illustrated. Coach McCoy, what’s is like being the first female offensive coordinator in the NFL?”
I exhaled and gave the answer I’d practiced. “It’s an amazing opportunity. I hope that I’m not the last. In the last five years, the NFL has opened its doors to female coaches, trainers, referees, owners, and even the first female commissioner. It was just a matter of time before one of us had the title of offensive coordinator.”
“Any pushback?” Her follow-up question was expected.
“None. The players only want to get better and they trust me and the team of coaches within the organization to make that happen for them. I know football and they know that I do.” I clamped my mouth shut and waited for the next question. As planned, they were easy and predictable, and I answered each one confidently. I was on a roll until Duane Spitzer from USA Today Sports brought up my past before college.
“You went to Oak Grove High School.”
He waited for some sort of confirmation. I nodded. “Yes?” I wanted to say “so what” but that would have been rude.
“You were the first female quarterback in your state. You even took the Oak Grove Pumas to the state championship game where your team put up a good fight but lost seven to twenty.”
“Thank you, Duane, for bringing up a painful memory.” I chuckled and was met with nervous laughter from the group. It appeared we were all somewhat confused by his line of questioning. “Next question.”
He stood and waved his hand at me and them. “Wait. I’m not done.”
“Duane, we don’t have all day. Final question and then we’re moving on,” Bill said.
I didn’t like Duane. I could tell by his mannerisms and the way he shushed others around him that he was going to be a problem in future press conferences.
“The team has just signed Grayson Moats as the Cheetahs’ starting quarterback.” He didn’t wait for confirmation. He kept talking. “You played against Grayson when you were a Puma, right?”
There was a slight murmur. “It’s a small world. We’re from the same state. And yes, we joked about it the night before he signed.” I glanced over at Bill.
“Sit down, Duane,” he said. He didn’t seem overly fond of Duane either.
Duane waved again. “No, wait. Last question.”
I motioned for him to continue and kept the eye roll in check.
“So, you laughed about it before he signed. Was it awkward seeing his wife, your ex-girlfriend, again after fifteen years?” he asked.
That was a question nobody prepared me for. I tried to breathe. I could feel my lungs clawing for air. I tried not to react. Instead, I looked at Bill for help. He didn’t miss a beat.
“Whatever history Moats and Coach McCoy have was a long time ago. They don’t have any issues. Coach McCoy was a driving force in getting Moats to play for us. Next question,” he said.
Apparently, one scandal per interview was enough because nobody asked the question the liaison prepared me for all morning. The rest of the conference went smoothly. There were even some laughs as we were winding down. Most of the journalists wished me well. I couldn’t look at Duane’s smug face. I exited the conference room and was immediately ushered into a private office. I wasn’t sure if it was for debriefing or just to get me away from the press. Terry, Bill, and the press liaison walked into the room. I waited for them to sit and braced myself for the onslaught of questions.
“Is there any truth to Duane’s question?” Terry asked.
I looked at them. “We were kids. I wouldn’t say we were girlfriends. It was a summer romance. And she wasn’t out so I don’t know how Duane dug that nugget up.” I knew that denying would only hurt my career here. “Her very religious parents didn’t like me and refused to allow us to be together. Did she move on and date Grayson? Yes. Did it hurt? Yes. But we’re all adults now. None of us are giving any thought to who we dated as teenagers.”
Bill dabbed at the sweat on his forehead with a handkerchief. “Did you and Grayson really discuss it?”
“Yes. The night we went to dinner to recruit him. He asked if it was going to be a problem. I told him no. That relationship was a lifetime ago,” I said.
Terry and Bill exchanged a look. “Find Grayson,” Terry said to Bill. Bill nodded and left the room. Terry folded his arms. “Do you think that’s something you should have disclosed when we brought up Grayson the day you started?”
I shook my head, refusing to allow his tone to get to me. “I didn’t. It was a long time ago. Grayson and I talked about it. It was a private moment between us. We’re good.”
He pressed his lips together tightly and nodded. “While we wait for them, let’s talk about your first press conference. How do you feel about it?”
Other than being completely derailed, it was okay. I leaned back in my chair. “I thought it went well. I’m glad nobody brought up the previous coach.”
“What’s going on, Coach?” Grayson entered the room followed closely by Bill.
“Have a seat, Moats,” Terry said.
Grayson’s eyes darted between the three of us. I kept my gaze steady and firm and gave him a very slight head nod. His shoulders lowered in relief.
“We were just informed by a journalist that you and Sutton have history. I understand from McCoy that it’s water under the bridge.”
He nodded vehemently. “Definitely. We talked about it the night you flew me out here.”
“We think that’s great, but we want to present a united front,” Terry said. He pointed directly at both of us. “If this comes up again, we want everyone to think you are best friends. This team can’t handle any more scandals. We’re too new and we have a lot to prove this year.”
“No problem, Coach. Sutton and I are cool,” Grayson said.
I leaned forward. “Yeah, we’re fine. Really, Terry.”
“Fine isn’t good enough. I want the press to believe you’re buddies. Best buddies. Can you make that happen?” Terry asked.
I looked at Grayson and shrugged. “Of course.”
“No problem here,” he said.
Terry looked at Bill and back to us. “Okay. Let’s get back to work.”
Bill nodded and stood when Terry did. “Let’s see how the team did without us.” He rapped his knuckles on the table, dismissing us. I couldn’t get out of there fast enough. I took a few minutes to catch my breath in my office and then made a beeline for the practice field. Most of the players were over at the stands, signing autographs and taking selfies.
“How was it?” Jamal asked.
“Fine.” I didn’t want to get into it with him now. He’d find out soon enough. My nerves were shot, and I was jittery. “What’s going on?” I nodded in the direction of the fans, irritated that the team was fraternizing with them instead of pounding out plays on the field.
“It’s lunchtime and they’re feeling famous. Look at them.” He shook his head and waved them off.
“They have twenty minutes left of lunch to actually eat and get back to the film room.” I took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “But it looks like they are having fun.” I was taking out my anger and anxiety on Jamal and it wasn’t fair.
“Want to go over there and be seen and heard?”
I waved him off and scoffed. “Hell, no. I’ve had enough of questions and time in front of cameras today.”
“Okay. Well, I’m going to head over there. I’ll see you in the meeting.”
I shaded my eyes and watched Jamal head over to Brandon and the team as they met the fans and signed memorabilia. I didn’t want to stand out on the field by myself and I didn’t want to go inside. I was still trying to cool off from the shit show that was my first press conference. My phone buzzed in my pocket. It was Lexi.
How’d it go?
Lexi didn’t know about my history with Parker. Nobody I ever dated did. I put her in the past and tried to fool my heart that we never existed. I hated that the wound was fresh again. It was fine. Just a lot of saying the same thing over and over.
That’s great! I knew you could do it.
I didn’t feel like talking right now. I needed to clear my head. Thanks. Gotta go. See you tonight. As I turned to walk into the building, I was surprised to see Grayson on the field holding a child. When it finally registered that he was holding his own daughter, it was too late for me to stop looking.
My eyes darted in search of her even though I tried to tell myself to look away. I saw her and she saw me. Fifteen years later and I was back on that field after winning the game but losing my heart. She had the same sad smile on her face. I tried to look calm. The fluttering of my heart only got worse when our eyes met. I could feel it. We always had that connection in school. I could find her in the cafeteria, or library, or even the football field and we would share a promising look across the large space. It was harder to hide it during our games because I wanted her approval. Everything I did out on the field was for her. Now, she had Grayson.
I broke eye contact first and tried to walk casually back to the offices. I felt more comfortable dealing with the sharks inside who were desperate to derail me with their slick questions than the free-falling I was experiencing inside. At least during the questioning, I had words. I nodded to a few of the defensive coaches still on the field and kept walking until I was safely inside the building. I had to get away from her ridiculously blue eyes drilling into mine, searching for answers to questions never asked from a long time ago.