I knock on his open door. "Hey, boss, you wanted to see me?"
He waves me in and hangs up the phone. "I need you to cover something for me."
I perk up at that. I haven't been here that long, and usually what I've been asked to do has only been write-ups for different stories. I've never gotten to do any type of live reporting or anything like that. Already, I’m imagining what it could be. Maybe a fire or oooh, a bank robbery. I’m almost bouncing on my toes. “Sure, what do you need?”
He doesn't hesitate and gets straight to the point. "I need you to cover the Knoxville Knights game today."
My mouth drops, and I point at myself, shaking my head side to side. "You want me to cover the Knoxville Knights?"
He's nodding with a smirk that I’m coming to hate. "Yes. Jamieson is not able to do it. He's out sick. I have no one else that I can ask. I'm going to need you to do this."
"But I ... I don't know anything about football," I tell him, even though it’s a lie. I know plenty about football. I’ve learned the game quite a bit actually from all my years of watching JD Ryan play in high school, then at the local junior college and now for the Knoxville Knights. But that doesn’t mean I want to go and cover it.
He rolls his eyes. "Do you think that I have not heard you and Jamieson going at it, all of the debates you have with him on who's going to win and scores and everything? You know more about football than I do. Heck, you probably know more about it than Jamieson does."
I'm still not sure about it. I would love to go to the game and to see JD Ryan up close, but I don't know if I should or not. I mean, the chances of him recognizing me or even remembering me are pretty slim. Surely I can go watch the game, write up the stats on it, and be done. Plus, this could be my big chance to get more assignments. Not necessarily for sports but more breaking news.
"Okay," I tell my boss. "So all I need to do is basically do a summary of the game, some highlights. Is that it?"
He shakes his head. "No, there are some interviews afterwards. You'll need to go to the interview room and try to get some questions answered. After that, you'll be done. Oh yeah, and try to get a few shots with your phone. You have a smartphone, right? It takes good pictures?"
I nod and agree, even though I want to be smart and say, "Is there anything else? Now not only am I writing a story, but now I'm the camera person too." But I don’t. I’m not the type. I usually just do what’s expected of me and don’t cause any problems.
I go back to my office and pick up my tote bag. The few reporters left in the newsroom are still snickering, and I’m sure they think they got one over on me. I just smile at them because I learned a long time ago to never let them see you sweat.
I leave and head over to the stadium. By the time I show my press pass and get shown to my seat, the game is about to start. I know I'm supposed to be reporting on the game in general, but I can't help but take notice of JD. We went to high school together, and back then, I thought—well, maybe I just hoped that there was a chance he liked me, but that was never the case. Even though I still think about him all the time, and I still follow his career. I should probably thank him for this opportunity to do some real reporting because to be honest, if it wasn’t for him, I wouldn’t know much about football.
I try to focus on the game, and every offensive play, JD is in his position as left tackle. It's amazing to watch him because nothing gets by him. He protects the quarterback. Even the quarterback, Dylan Sutton, brags on him all the time in after game interviews. Usually, it's the center that is praised for protecting, but it's always JD Ryan that is mentioned. He is like a brick wall when it comes to the defense trying to get through.
I take notes and listen with my earbud in one ear so I can hear the commentators of the game, wanting to make sure that I don't miss a thing. I jot down when the running back Boone Jennings breaks his single game rushing record, and I scribble as fast as I can, taking notes of everything. I'll have to just go through it and decipher everything later. Right now, I just don't want to miss it. And of course, I make sure to keep a tally of how many blocks JD Ryan has. It may not go into the report I send Jamieson, but I’ll have it.
It seems like the game has just started when already it's over. Four quarters and the Knoxville Knights win. I'm listening to the commentators do the post-game wrap up, and of course they mention JD's name over and over.
I take a deep breath as everyone in the press box gets up and makes their way to the interview room. I know it will probably be a few minutes before the players get there, but already I'm a nervous wreck. I don't know why I am because everyone knows that JD does not do interviews, so most likely I won't even get to see him. But still there's some kind of impending knot in my stomach, like something is about to happen and I can't shake it. I walk behind all the men and settle into a chair in the back of the room. Looking at my notes, I try to think of questions that maybe Jamieson or my boss Mack would want answered.
Chapter 3
JD
I'm walking with the rest of the guys with a towel around my neck and wiping my face off. I’ve already removed my pads and sent them back to the locker room with one of the trainers. We won the game, and I’ll get a break now before things start up again. I know I should be happy right now, but I'm sort of pissed off. Of course, being mad probably made me play better. I enjoyed every time I put someone on the other line on their back. I know I need to let it go, but I can’t shake it.
A few of the other players and I stop when we get to the tunnel and see the children that are there with their families. I sign some autographs, ignoring the women that are blatantly showing their breasts, shoving them into my face. It still amazes me when things like this happen. How I went from the dumpy kid I used to be to now having a choice of any woman I want is beyond me. The funny thing about it is none of them interest me, not one. The only woman that I think about didn't want me then, and most likely wouldn't want me now. She probably thinks I'm some dumb jock.
I scribble my name on the picture the boy is holding out and hand it back to him. He tells me thanks, and I ruffle the hair on his head. I take my time with all of the kids, mostly just biding my time. I know what it means to these kids to get to meet us, so I don’t take it for granted. But today, I make sure I stick around until the very last minute because I’m dreading what’s coming next.
This whole season I told them that I am not going to do interviews. I'm a rookie for the team, and I didn't think it would be an issue, but no one else, especially me, had any idea how much reporters would want to talk to me. The owners have tried many things to get me to talk. At first, they fined me when I didn't do the interviews, but I didn't care about losing the money. My peace of mind was more important to me. But it's different now because now they're saying that if I don't go to the interview room, they're going to suspend me. It means I’d have to sit out the first two games next season. I want to call their bluff, but I’m not willing to risk it. No matter how much I don't want to do an interview, I know that my team needs me, so I begrudgingly agreed that after today's game, I would go to the interview room.