If we’re comparing based onexperienceonly, Max and Apex Athletics have me beat. He’s not just a sports agent; he’s a former football star. A king on and off the field. When an injury robbed him of his future in the sport, he didn’t fade away into oblivion. He didn’t drown himself in alcohol andcoulda beensthe way my father did. No, instead of letting defeat destroy his future, Max Cruz made anewname for himself.
He became the biggest name in the business.
“With precision, dedication, and drive,” he continues, “I left the sport I loved and created Apex Athletics. I worked tirelessly to create the kind of agency I, myself, would have wanted. Using my experience on the field, the connections made in my four years of playing pro ball, I parlayed those friendships and relationships into the most successful sports agency of our time.”
My shoulders fall and I lean back in my seat.
In all honesty, I don’t stand a chance against him.
I don’t know why I thought I could do this. I don’t know why I thought I stood even a modicum of a chance against Apex Athletics, regardless of how many nights I sat beside Cecelia in the stands.
But my father didn’t raise a quitter. Even as I watched him shrink into himself year after year, he made sure I would growup to be the opposite of what he’d become. He drilled into me the values and priorities I care most about now, and at the top of that list is making sure that players have the very best support possible.
And that means Hart Strategic Management.
I may not be as big or as well-established as Maxwell Cruz, but I’m not out of the game just yet. I’m notoutuntil Emerson Bratt says that I’m out.
So, as Max finishes his speech, I take a deep breath and muster all of the bravado I can, then straighten my shoulders and rise to my feet.
Pressing my palms against the massive conference table, I lean forward until all eyes are on me once more. “You’re right, Mr. Cruz. If we’re comparing apples to apples, I’m not going to measure up. I don’t have the experience on the field, and as far as agencies go, Apex Athletics ismassive. Your roster speaks for itself.”
Max nods proudly. Beside him, his COO smirks.
But I’m only getting started.
I swivel my head to focus on Emerson. “But bigger does not guarantee better. If you go with Apex, you’ll be one in a million, just another name on the roster. A notch in his belt.” I jerk my head toward Max. “You’ll have a well-known and established sports agency behind you, no doubt about that, but… you and how many others? Mr. Cruz said he’d be beside you every step of the way, but I can’t help wondering… how?” I pause, flicking my gaze to Max, then his partner, then back to Emerson. “How much time could they possibly devote to you when you’re justoneup-and-coming star in an agency chock full of household names?”
With a shrug, I push my chair back from the conference table and begin to pace the room. “The fact that they both showed up here today speaks volumes. They want you, andthey’re willing to fight for you. But what happens after the ink is dry on those initial contracts? You think you’ll be in direct contact with theCEOof Apex Athletics?” I motion toward Mr. Cross. “TheCOO?” I wince and shake my head. “Possibly… but I have my doubts. With Hart Strategic Management, however, you’ll have direct access to the woman representing you, which means a stronger focus on you, on guiding your career. You’ll have an agent who may not have played football professionally, but she loves it, lives it, and was raised by a man who had more passion for the game in his little finger”—I hold my pinky up in demonstration—“than anyone in this room.” My voice cracks, so I pause to take a deep breath before continuing. “My father made sure I loved this game because he believed in it with all his heart, but more than that, he believed in the men on the field, the men who make each game possible, the men who hold up the entire league on their backs, throwing their blood, sweat, bodies, and tears into the sport.”
Pausing for emphasis, I meet the eyes of Mr. and Mrs. Bratt, then focus on Emerson. “I started this company in his honor, based on his beliefs that fairpayand fairplayaren’t pipedreams, butreality. He believed in the game, in his fellow players, and he believed in me.”
Looking out the window, I consider my next words carefully, allowing the heavy silence to linger for a moment as I take a deep breath and prepare to drive this speech home. Then I turn around and state the truth, the bottom line:
“And now I get to believe in you, Emerson. Not because you’re another footballer who’s headed for glory, because, frankly, there are many of you.” I motion toward Max as an example. “There’s even a champion in this very room. How many Superbowl rings do you have, Mr. Cruz?”
“Two.”
I hum in acknowledgement. “Impressive.” I stride around the conference table, noting how Emerson spins his chair slowly to keep his eyes on me. “I don’t have any flashy rings.”
Emerson chuckles softly, but continues watching me closely.
“I’ve never signed a football for a small child, or entered a stadium full of fans screaming my name. I’ve never found myself in a hot tub thirty-four floors above Las Vegas, surrounded by a dozen or more Playboy bunnies—” I shut my mouth, careful not to look at Max, and kicking myself for mentioning a day I swore I’d never speak of again. Trying to save myself from that momentary lapse in judgement, I quickly continue, “But I think there’s more to football than those things, more to a professional athlete than what they portray you as on TV. And I think there’s more toyou, more to yourdreams, than a desire for fame and glory.”
Emerson nods.
“I believe you want those things—and there’s no shame in that—but I know you want more. I know you want to take care of your parents, your siblings. I know you have dreams of putting Emma through med school so your parents don’t have to worry about scholarships, grants, and scrounging to make that possible. If you can accomplish those things, the rest will just be icing on the cake.”
Confirming my words, Cecelia sniffles, and I offer her a smile.
“Your parents believe in you, Emerson, and so do I. Not because you’re good, though youare—there’s no denying that—but I believe in you because we’re the same. Not because I know firsthand the rush of adrenaline that accompanies a stadium full of fans chanting my name”—I pause, then chuckle— “and I can’t say I’ve ever had to fight off supermodels or pop stars.” Looking pointedly at Max, I don’t miss his cocky smirk, which only fuels my desire to land this plane. “No, we’re the same because weknow what it's like to go hungry. To struggle. To grow up in a home filled with endless,unconditionallove but very, very little else.”
Stopping just behind them, I rest a hand on each of his parent’s shoulders and say, “You’re going to sign with Hart Strategic Management, withme, Sutton Hart, because unlike my competition, you see something in me, a familiarity that the other agents in the room don’t have. It’s the same drive and determination that brought you to the precipice you stand on now, the whole world at the ready for you to step in and take it, when all odds were stacked against you.”
Grayson Cross clears his throat, then leans back in his chair, tilting his head as he looks at me with one eyebrow cocked. Motioning toward Emerson, he says, “This young man is about to be alegend,Ms. Hart. And you’re going to woo him with… what? Shared pasts of… poverty?”
Cecelia’s shoulders tense at the same time mine do. I give her a little squeeze, then shake my head at the two men sitting across from us and raise my hands in the air as I turn toward Emerson. “It’s as simple as that. The men running Apex Athletics view your upbringing asimpoverished, where I see strength, determination, and resilience. Endless love. Unmatched drive.” Shaking my head again, I offer Max the kind of sympathetic smile that I hope portrays how badly he and his partner just screwed up, then, still holding his gaze, I say, “Mr. Cruz won’t work as hard for you as I will because he’s never had to fight like we have. He’s never gone without, so he doesn’t know the drive that a life like that instills in you to succeed. He doesn’t know what it feels like to want so desperately to take care of your parents the way they’ve taken care of you, to provide for them in ways so far beyond their wildest dreams people would call you crazy for even wishing for the things you want to give them. Mr. Cruz and Mr. Cross here don’t know how that desireeats at you, keeps you awake at night, the way itdrivesyou. But I do. I know that the desire you feel to give back runs so much deeper than just a love of the sport.”
Pause.
