“Thank you, but that’s not necessary,” he told Jane. “Zach’s death was one of the driving factors for so many of us quitting the league and filing this lawsuit, so he should be in it.”
“I still don’t understand why the league didn’t settle,” Jane said. “Dragging this out in court is only going to make them look worse.”
Ben shrugged one massive shoulder. “They’re desperate at this point.”
“Can you expand upon that?” she asked, in full journo mode now.
He nodded. “I think the league must feel that if they win in court, the fans won’t think they’re responsible for what happened to Zach and the other players that have died because of TBI or CTE. Or the ones who are already experiencing what amounts to early-onset dementia thanks to their years on the field. And there are other factors driving them besides that.”
“Like?” she asked.
“The USFL has lost a lot revenue as people ditch cable and switch to streaming services. No one wants to pay $120 just for the USFL app,” he said. “They’re losing viewers at higher rates than they’ve ever experienced. The fans are fed up with the lack of logical punishment. One player is suspended for three games for ranting about how the senator from his home state is racist, while another suffers no consequences after pleading guilty to domestic abuse. And people are either pissed at the players who took a knee during the anthem for ‘disrespecting the flag’ or for ‘bringing politics into sports’ or they’re pissed at how the league treated those players and the bullshit ruling that came down afterward. So not only are the fans angry with the league, but with each other. A sport that once united so many people is now dividing them.”
Jane’s pen flew over her notepad. “The ruling you mentioned, are you referring to the fine players will now face if they continue to take a knee?”
Ben nodded. “Yes. There’s another lawsuit about to be filed against that, and I think the players involved are backed by some heavy hitters like the ACLU and even a couple of team owners.”
“Really? Do you have anyone I could contact about that?”
“Possibly,” Ben said. “I’ll have to make some calls and find someone willing to talk.”
The two of them spent the next hour in deep conversation about the lawsuit and the league’s cover-up of early CTE research. Ben’s lawyers uncovered evidence of coercion and intimidation to keep some of the studies from being published. A few weeks ago, the private investigators the players hired found a possible paper and money trail that led from the USFL to falsified, argumentative research papers that claimed there was zero connection between getting repeatedlytackled and TBI. As if they thought by spreading alternative facts and misinformation, they might be able to sway public opinion.
It was a move right out of big tobacco’s playbook, from back in the days when they were still trying to cast doubt on whether or not smoking led to cancer. It would have been laughable if it wasn’t so enraging.
I let go of Ben’s hand at that point and stood to pace the kitchen. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d been so angry. My she-dragon was so close to the surface that I felt like I could belch fire.
“You okay, Ella?” Ben asked.
“She’s fine,” Jane answered for me. “Momma bear mode has been activated.”
“More like rage-beast mode,” I said, so low they couldn’t hear me.
Ben arched a brow at Jane.
“Oh, so she hasn’t felt the need to defend you yet?” Jane asked. “Be grateful for that. She can get a bit scary.”
“I see that.” He turned and watched me pace. He didn’t look frightened; he looked…appreciative.
I forced my gaze away from him before my anger morphed into something else.
“Tell me more about this last injunction,” Jane said. “The one concerning the Commissioner.”
I heard footsteps and turned to see Willow walking toward me. She joined me in my pacing, crossing her little arms over her chest as she glared around the room.
“Who are we mad at?” she asked.
I slowed down so she could keep up. “The Commissioner of the USFL.”
“Ben!” she shouted. “Go throw him!”
God, Iloved her.
“What did I say about throwing people?” Jane yelled back. She glanced at her watch. “Crap. It’s bedtime.”
“I got it,” I told her.
I took Willow’s hand and led her down the hall. I needed a break anyway. To go from Ben never talking about this to hearing how much he’d been hurt by it all made me so mad I felt nauseous. Having to deal with all that toxicity on top of the threat of CTE and his grief for Zach seemed cosmically unfair. No wonder he needed to hide out for a little while. No wonder he’d been absent from social media since Christmas.
