The realization hitting me, I stopped pacing. “You want me in a room. Alone. With Connor O’Riley.”
“He’s the captain,” she said simply.
“He’s a menace.”
“He’s a captain,” she repeated. I wasn’t hard of hearing; I just didn’t want to do it. “Same as you. Show him how it’s done.”
I stared at her, jaw locked, already imagining the smug look on his face, and the pity I’d felt for his team suddenly disappeared. That stupid half-smile and those fake polite manners he pulled out when he wanted to seem reasonable but really, he was just laying verbal landmines. I knew his type—I knewhim. It was all just bravado. Bravado that I didn’t have time to entertain as a professional at the start of something big.
Coach softened. “This doesn’t have to be a rivalry thing, Teddy. It can be a leadership moment.”
I snorted. I really had chosen violence today. “That’s cute. You think he’s capable of putting his ego aside.” Everything was always a rivalry thing with Connor, ever since freshman year in college, where he and I shared classrooms for four years. I didn’t need reassurance because I knew he couldn’t resist pissing me off.
Her expression shifted now—just enough to show I wasn’t entirely wrong. But still, she knew how to play me… “That’s whyI trustyouto lead this conversation. Be the leader I know you are. Putyourego aside. You’re better than this.”
There it was. The winning line that she was fully aware would get my competitive head in the game. She trusted me; my Coach has always trusted me.
“And you know the cost of this place better than anyone.” She continued. “We’re a new franchise. We’ve got overheads and a shot at making a real profit this season if we split the load. The media will love it. Two teams, one facility. The kind of campaign they eat for breakfast.”
This wasn’t about viral hashtags or camera angles or becoming someone’s feel-good headline, and I wasn’t chasing fame—Iwastrying to build something that lasted. Something my team could be proud of. Something we could pass on to generations of women. Something that meant change was coming.
It wasn’t easy being a woman in a sport that’s spent decades pretending you don’t exist. Unfortunately, I’m learning fast that sometimes fame is survival. Exposure is leverage. And shared space with a team that already has fans, already has money behind them… yeah… I saw the logic. I just didn’t like it.
Coach must’ve seen the wheels turning, because she leaned in and landed the final blow.
“We’ve got waves to make, Teddy. Let’s use them. Show them what women’s sport looks like when it leads.”
I swallowed hard.
Because Iwantedthat. Not the spotlight, not the headlines—but the shift. The proof. The day girls walked into a stadium and didn’t wonder if they were out of place. The day we didn’t have to be twice as good just to be taken half as seriously.
That mattered.
It mattered enough to set my jaw, nod once, and accept what came next.
Even if it meant dealing with Connor O’Riley again.
“Fine. But if he starts monologuing about his Irish rugby heritage, I’m calling you in for backup.”
She chuckled. “I can’t make any promises as to what he’ll say. You just need to get this sorted and take your team to the first championship.”
The pride in her voice hit something deep in my chest. It was my first year, our first year, out of pay-to-play in the premier league, my first season wearing that ‘C’ too, but this had been years in the making. I’d captained my college team to championship, played U23s for the USA as well as premier league, and kept my head down while I earned every inch of space I could take up. Coach had seen it before anyone else—she scouted me back then, and we moved into premier together, then mapped out my future here once Women’s Pro Rugby Division had been confirmed last year.
Much to my father’s dismay, all my hard work had paid off.
Rugby might have been a team sport, but it helped to have someone at the helm who was always hungry for the win. I wasn’t my teammates’ favorite person every day, but I sure as hell delivered the results we deserved—and we did deserve them.
And that was what mattered, wasn’t it? Not whether they liked me or invited me out after practice. As long as I was good enough to win, if I kept earning my place here, then I’d earned something.
Which was why I conceded.
“When do I have to meet him?”
“In thirty minutes,” she said. “Media room. I’ll be across the hall with their coach.”
***
Longest thirty minutes of my life. Cardio training wrapped up by the time I’d left coach’s office, and I wasn’t in the mood for weight training.
