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This was going to be easy. Easier than her SAT’s, which she aced. Alex blew the hair from her face. A locker room interview. This player was well-known for being an ass. But it didn’t matter. Alex had been given an exclusive pre-season interview with Cane Clayburn, the starting Quarterback for the Texans. He was finally back after several rounds of surgery on his shoulder. Would he even know the difference if she asked him an off the record question? Probably not. The guy had idiot metaphorically written on his face. From his blue eyes that held no distinguishable thoughts behind them to the smile that was always present on his face. It was obvious he had a simple mind.
Alex pushed through the door of the locker room. The man waiting behind the door was built like a muscular machine but Alex was determined to hold her own. She was above average height for a woman. A good three inches above. She was proud of her five feet eight inches. In school it had been a sore spot when she had stuck out in class pictures, now she held her head high. Being tall was powerful. She liked being able to reach all the items on the grocery store shelves. Being able to reach things in her kitchen without a stool. In comparison, her friend, Vanessa had to get a stool and still couldn’t reach into the back of the cabinet unless she climbed onto the counter. She reminded Alex of a little gnome.
Alex had specifically chosen to wear her three-inch heels for today’s interview. The taller she could be in this room full of male testosterone the better. Being around athletes her entire life had given her an insider’s sense of knowledge of how things worked on and off the field. She could cite players stats such as height, weight, and everything that would be important to compare against other players. But she also knew what their weaknesses were. Their tells of uncomfortableness. How they would respond to questions that deflated their egos. One would think these athletes would always be pumped but underneath their sweaty uniforms and thick pads lay a little bit of insecurity. Alex knew how to pick at that when she needed to.
Cane Clayburn was six-foot-seven-inches, almost exactly a foot taller than Alex. Even in her heels he towered over her. His head reached the top of the lockers. He could, without a doubt, touch the ceiling effortlessly. This was insignificant to Alex. She was there for a quote and to do a follow-up report from her first article about his shortcomings of the previous season. She was not interested in his height or any of his other inconsequential musings he normally spewed from his sideline interviews.
He had his back turned to her. His muscular shoulders bare other than a few drops of water that cascaded down the remainder of his back. A white towel hung low on his hips. Alex gasped. Her face warmed.
Cane turned around and flashed a big smile, displaying bright white teeth. He probably had them bleached. He seemed like the kind of guy that thought highly of his appearance. “Huh. I thought you were a guy.”
Alex pressed her lips together. “Nope, all lady parts over here.” Typical. Of course he assumed she was a man. He couldn’t form a thought large enough to consider the name Alex might belong to a woman or that a woman could be a sports reporter. She rolled her eyes. Such a clown.
She had pre-planned this interview. She had to. It was imperative for her to be one hundred and ten percent prepared. For this interview, she knew she had to come in strong but smooth like honey to get him to talk. She needed quotes that were better than his sideline one liners that were always retweeted by millions. She wanted something better. She wanted to show him for what he truly was. Her mission was clear. Get a few soundbites and a quote that would no doubt be all over Monday morning’s paper.
“You looked great out there today. How is your shoulder feeling?”
“Really good, you want to feel it for yourself?” Cane flexed his bicep into a large boulder of muscles and nodded at his own perfection. His eyes sparkled. A clear indication he wanted her to enjoy his physical splendor.
“That’s actually your bicep. Your shoulder is a little bit higher.” She pointed to her own shoulder and demonstrated the exact spot of where his surgery would have been. Alex had done her research on the implications of a separated shoulder and what type of training and physical therapy would be required for Cane to return to the field. Houston is a medical mecca for the world and Cane had received top-notch treatment. His team’s fate rested upon those taut muscles. The team was on track to achieve Super Bowl rings this year. That is, if Cane’s shoulder held up.
Cane laughed. “Ha, that’s right. I had almost forgotten about your previously entertaining article. Though, next time you might want to do a better job with your back story.”
Alex raised an eyebrow at him. Yes, her article had not exactly been full of flattery but there was nothing about it that wasn’t thoroughly researched. Investigation was her forte.
“I’m glad you were entertained. Did someone have to read it to you? My articles aren’t meant for an eighth-grade education.” Her eyes focused on his face. No need to get distracted by his physique.
“Funny enough, I was able to get through each one of your four syllable words. What were there, three of them? Maybe add a bit more variety next time. You used the word arbitrary twice. Isn’t that a writer faux pas?”
Alex bit her lip. Don’t say anything more. Just ask your questions and get the hell out of here. The air in the room felt much too hot and it was not due to Cane and all his bare muscles. No, it was the anger that radiated through her. There was no way he was going to get her goat. Absolutely not. She was a professional.
“Hmm...speaking of fauxpas. I noticed you weren’t quite able to get any balls in the end zone tonight. How are you feeling about the game next week?”
Cane’s eyes dropped for a sliver of a second. If Alex wasn’t a keen interviewer, she might have missed it.
“I’m feeling great about the game and about getting my balls to the end zone.” He popped his knuckles. It was his tell. Alex had watched enough interviews with Cane to know when he got frustrated, he would fiddle with his hands. Good. This was the perfect moment to get the soundbites she needed.
“What’s the back-up plan if you are unsuccessful? Will they pull you in the first quarter or let you try for five minutes of the second quarter before subbing Bronson in?”
Cane laughed. “Sweetheart, I’ll be playing the whole game.”
Alex smiled. If there was one thing she despised most, it was being called sweetheart during an interview. It wasn’t enough that so many players didn’t give her the same respect they gave male reporters but calling her ‘sweetheart’ was her point of no return. It was time to stick the knife in deeper. She would need to catch him off guard to make him slip-up. Just like when he’d had his eyes on the tight end and didn’t see the play from the outside linebacker. Like the one that had taken him out of the game last season.
“I noticed as you made that last throw your elbow paused for a second. Was that a mental pause caused by fear or did something physical inside your arm cause the delay?”
Cane’s lips formed two solid lines. He scratched his head for a moment. Obviously, he needed to find something to say. His brain most likely only had a few prepared responses and Alex had asked a question he wasn’t ready for.
He took a deep breath. “I don’t ever have fear when I’m on the field. Fear doesn’t enter my frame of mind when I walk into this stadium or any other stadium I’m about to play in. Fear is something that runs deeper than the points on a scoreboard. But to answer your question about my elbow, you’re right, there was a bit of a pause. Sometimes that happens in life.” He rubbed his lips together. “Sometimes everything seems like all systems are go and then you realize you are standing in a male locker room in three-inch heels and you couldn’t be more out of place. So, you take a deep breath and retreat to your house, put on your yoga pants, grab a bowl of ice cream and watch some Real Housewives show. That’s where you feel comfortable. That’s the kind of moment when your elbow doesn’t pause.” He raised his eyebrows at her, confident he had struck a nerve.
It took every ounce of Alex’s self-control not to slap him or worse...cry. He had no idea what it was like being a female sports reporter. She did belong. Maybe not in a male locker room, but that had been his choice. His stipulations were that the interview take place in the locker room and not on the field.
And he was wrong. Alex wouldn’t be caught dead watching a Real Housewives show. She would rather slit her own wrists than view the utter verbal diarrhea and superficial variety that showed up week after week on those poorly scripted reality programs.
“Well, I think I’ve got all the information I need. Thanks for your time.” Alex turned on her heel and stormed out of the locker room. She didn’t care if the Texans won the Super Bowl. This would be the last time she ever interviewed Cane Clayburn. She would write her article for tomorrow. If he didn’t like the article she had previously written, he was in for a big surprise with the words she would dole out for Monday’s paper.
“Cane Clayburn, America’s corn-fed farming son is returning to the big leagues this football season. With so much pressure on his shoulders will his brain be able to keep up with all the plays for the Houston Texans?
When asked how his shoulder was feeling, Clayburn responded that he was confident about his scheduled performance next Sunday then rubbed his bicep and stated it felt great. Perhaps, the Texans might want to add anatomy to the sideline discussion, just in case any other body parts are mentioned to Cane. Surely, they don’t want to confuse the man any further.
He might have majored in business at the University of Texas but let’s hope it had nothing to do with the business of the body. Clearly an additional course would be needed in regard to physical locations for Clayburn. How is he even able to run a play? Do the Texans have to use a color chart or maybe they work with hand signs for him.
Despite his lack of knowledge regarding anatomy, his sunny disposition makes up for it. Cane admits that where he feels most comfortable is in a pair of “yoga pants with a bowl of ice cream watching some Real Housewives show.”
It will be interesting to see whether Cane’s shoulder holds up this season or if he retreats to the comforts of his home cuddled up with some Blue Bell.”