Blarry droned on. “We don’t think pushing the conflict angle is the right thing for you.”
“You mean it’s not the right thing for Mara,” Kirby said.
He didn’t contradict that. “Or our sport. The Olympic Games are our chance to reach a wider American audience and bring new people in.”
And new money, but Kirby knew better than to say that.
He continued, “It’s a ground-level opportunity to get kids and their families interested in cross-country skiing, and they’ll be our Olympians of the future.”
Gag.
That sounded nice but was just a bunch of marketing bullshit.
“Cross-country skiing is not as appealing if the primary narrative surrounding the sport is catty and ugly,” Blarry finished.
Rivalries in men’s sports were never described as catty. Cross-country skiing had instituted equal racing distances for men and women for the Milan Cortina Olympics, but that equality didn’t always extend to how men and women were treated as athletes and people.
“We don’t create an ugly atmosphere,” Mara said. “We hardly speak to each other.”
“You hardly speak to anyone,” Kirby said before she could stop herself.
“Quips like that are precisely what I’m talking about, Miss Bonham,” Blarry said. “Another example is your disruptive dig at Mara in the locker room during what would have otherwise been a nice team segment.”
Mara wrinkled her nose but didn’t say anything. It was annoying that he was sniveling all over Mara as if she were actually a princess. Mara had held her own in that locker room. She was fine.
“I’m sorry. I’m terrible. What’s your name again?” Kirby asked.
“Chandler Wendleton,” he bit out.
Whoops.So not Larry or Barry.
“He’s the head of public relations for US Ski and Snowboard,” Mara said. Little know-it-all.
“So what exactly are you asking us to do, Chandler?” Kirby said. She was over this. At this rate, she and Mara would be kilometers behind the rest of the team, and Kirby loved skiing with the team.
“You’re being tapped for a pre-filmed, joint interview with Janette Collins.”
“Seriously?” Kirby said loudly. “Fuck.”
Mara looked shocked. And maybe a little sick too.
Holy shit, that was a big draw. It was the type of interview that could get Kirby her next sponsorship or gig on a show. Janette Collins’s interviews were a staple of Olympic primetime coverage.
“I’m sure you’ve both got voicemails from your agents. The network and Ms. Collins’s team were kind enough to loop us in as well. We cannot control you. But I am asking you to keep the animosity low. Tell interviewers you’refriendsand teammates who support each other.”
“You want us to lie?” Kirby said.
“I want you to bury the hatchet. Or if that’s beyond you, pretend to. Let the narrative be the transformative nature of forgiveness and friendship.”
Kirby laughed. “Forgiveness? And what are we supposed to be forgiving each other for? Spicy interviews? Am I supposed to ask forgiveness for winning Mara’s gold medal?” She turned to Mara. “Do you have anything to say about this?”
Mara shrugged. “It’s easy to say we’re friends if asked. I don’t feel the need to make headlines.”
Kirby rolled her eyes so hard it almost gave her vertigo. Making headlines led to making money in her experience. Yes, she loved skiing. She was good at it. But skiing alone didn’t pay the bills.
“Don’t you think a rivalry also makes people invested in our sport? That’s why she wants to talk to us. Because of what happened in Beijing. Viewers will see we’re competitive. And that winning matters to us. It makes our races against each other exciting for viewers. Gives them someone to root for and root against.”
“Do you want to be the one who’s rooted against?” Chandler Wendleton said bluntly. “Forgive me, Miss Bonham, but you can be polarizing.”
