“You’ve got about five more minutes, fellas, and then it’s time for your rub downs.”
“Thank fuck.”
“And by the way, Coop, everything looks good with your ear. No significant changes since last year. You should be all clear for the season.”
“Thanks, doc.”
The doctor moves on to the next tub of players.
“You know I’ve never pried into your private life, Coop.”
“But it sounds like you’re about to do just that.”
“Well, we’ve known each other over five years, and you’ve never told me about what happened to your ear.”
“There’s nothing to tell. I was involved in an accident back in the day. The collision blew out part of my ear drum.”
“Gotcha.”
“Not the story you were looking for?”
“If you think for one minute that I believed those stories about Coach Barnes you must be crazy. I know your father is a good man. I was just curious. Even though you play around a lot, and have a good heart, you’re very much a secret squirrel. Very guarded. It’s hard to get to know you. It’s difficult to talk to you. It’s probably part of the reason why you had no warning that Owens was leaving. People feel as if they can’t tell you anything. That you don’t want to hear it or that you don’t care. Maybe that’s why you were blindsided.”
“I am not the person who you’re describing. That’s not me.”
“Aren’t you? Think about your inner circle. There’s me. Probably the only player on the team you talk to about stuff other than the game. And let’s be honest, we first became friends because my brother asked me to look out for you when you came here.”
“Thanks for that,” I say sarcastically.
“You’re welcome. And then there’s Tito. Your personal driver who probably says five words out loud a day. Just the way you like it. And then there’s the woman of the week. A few months ago, it was Megan. Last week it was Kiera. This week it will be someone else. You pick very, let’s say, sexual women who you will never get serious about and could never bring home to your mother.”
“Which is exactly the point.”
“And then there’s Owens. The dutiful assistant who spends the most time with you but probably knows you the least. If she did, she should have known that her exit wasn’t going to be a smooth ride out of the door, but I don’t think she knew that. I think she thought you wouldn’t give a shit. That she was replaceable. That maybe you’d give her a bonus check, a good reference, and a nice knowing you.”
Saint has the unique ability of making me think of things in a different way. Ways that make my head hurt.
“They really should start serving drinks in here.”
“Have you said anything to Parinzino yet?”
“Hell no.”
Paul Parinzino is Saint’s new backup quarterback who is now sleeping with Megan and evidently taking her to award shows. I have no interest in talking to him unless he’s throwing me a ball on game day.
“What a bitch.”
“Him or her?” I snicker.
“Either of ’em.” We both laugh. “But I’m not worried about Parinzino. I’ve never felt better. I’m going to crush it this season. He’s not taking my spot anytime soon.”
“It doesn’t matter about Megan either. We were never exclusive. She can sleep with anyone she wants to. Even a teammate.”
“That’s so ridiculously sad I think I’m going to cry.”
Saint pretends to rub phantom tears away with his hands.
A few of the players around us start laughing, so I have to get a jab in.
