Page 53 of Hard Pass

He blinks. “Of course. This is a brutal sport. There are injuries every day. It’s my job to observe and try and tend to the players’ needs before they even ask.”

“Walk me through that.”

He exhales like he knows the conversation is about to shift from harmless to possibly damning.

“Walk you through it? It’s not anything specific. A player comes in with a knee brace on. The QB comes in with his wrist taped when he’s never taped it before. Players stand in here waiting for their helmet cage to be tightened, and they complain about a wide receiver who’s off a half-step because he’s having marital problems at home.”

Real-time intel. Casual. Constant. Unfiltered.

“Makes sense,” I say and jot a few notes down, letting the silence stretch just enough to invite more.

“Plus it’s obvious sometimes when you watch a practice. Say like with Valor. That’s why you’re talking to me, right? All the stuff on social media?”

“Partially, yes.” I’d be naive if I didn’t assume that every person in this organization knows about the investigation. “So you said, like with Valor. What would one notice if they were watching practice?”

Rick shrugs, but there’s thought behind it. “He hasn’t been throwing like himself. He’s been out there longer than normal taking extra reps. Trying different release points. Adjusting the pace on the ball. It seems he’s almost overcorrecting.”

I take some more notes, but it’s as I expected—everyone knows fucking everything in this place. Not rumor. Not speculation. Observed struggles. Even the equipment manager is diagnosing Cole’s mechanics.

“And those observations stay internal?” I ask.

“We all signed NDAs so yes, they’re supposed to.”

“Any concerns about Valor beyond the mechanics?” I ask casually. “Temper that might have rubbed someone the wrong way? Issues with teammates? Staff confrontations?”

Rick frowns like the question itself doesn’t fit with Cole. “Not that I’ve seen. Yeah, he’s sure of himself but show me an NFL player who isn’t. Not excessive or grating or anything. For the most part, the guy keeps his head down and works hard day in and day out.”

“Football locker rooms aren’t exactly known for healthy communication. No time that frustration on the field has bled into the clubhouse?”

“All the time.” A short laugh escapes him. “But honestly, if trouble starts in here, Valor’s usually the first guy to walk away from it. Doesn’t yell. Doesn’t escalate it. He just . . . removes himself.”

Interesting. The version of Cole Valor the media sells is arrogant, cocky, and untouchable. But the version I keep running into feels more like a man trying desperately not to make things worse.

I tap my pen against my pad before glancing back up at him. “Rick, can I ask you something a little more direct?”

He hesitates and glances around. “Uh—yeah.”

“Have you ever placed a bet on a sports game?”

His reaction is immediate. He shakes his head, eyes widening. “No. Never. Gambling in general isn’t my thing.”

Too quick? Maybe. Or maybe just honest. Either way, I clock it.

“What about friends? People you talk to regularly?” I continue. “Anyone who might ask questions about a player or his performance? You know when you’re just shooting the shit at a friend’s barbecue?”

“No,” he says, firmer this time. “I don’t talk about that stuff. Not outside of this facility.”

I hold his gaze longer than necessary, not because I think he’s lying but because discomfort has a way of loosening truths people don’t intend to share.

“Do you have any excessive debt?”

He startles. “No. I mean, not any more than anyone else.” His eyebrows narrow. “Am I in trouble?”

“No.” I add warmth to my smile. “These are just standard questions I ask to try and shake loose something that might have some meaning.”

He nods but it’s clear I’ve put him on edge.

“There are betting patterns,” I say. “Over/unders shifting before public information hits. Probability lines tightening on passing yards and completion percentages. Even live adjustments reacting faster than they should. This doesn’t happen without inside knowledge. Not consistently.”