He rolls his eyes. "Do you think that I have not heard you and Jamieson going at it, all of the debates you have with him on who's going to win and scores and everything? You know more about football than I do. Heck, you probably know more about it than Jamieson does."
I'm still not sure about it. I would love to go to the game and to see JD Ryan up close, but I don't know if I should or not. I mean, the chances of him recognizing me or even remembering me are pretty slim. Surely I can go watch the game, write up the stats on it, and be done. Plus, this could be my big chance to get more assignments. Not necessarily for sports but more breaking news.
"Okay," I tell my boss. "So all I need to do is basically do a summary of the game, some highlights. Is that it?"
He shakes his head. "No, there are some interviews afterwards. You'll need to go to the interview room and try to get some questions answered. After that, you'll be done. Oh yeah, and try to get a few shots with your phone. You have a smartphone, right? It takes good pictures?"
I nod and agree, even though I want to be smart and say, "Is there anything else? Now not only am I writing a story, but now I'm the camera person too." But I don’t. I’m not the type. I usually just do what’s expected of me and don’t cause any problems.
I go back to my office and pick up my tote bag. The few reporters left in the newsroom are still snickering, and I’m sure they think they got one over on me. I just smile at them because I learned a long time ago to never let them see you sweat.
I leave and head over to the stadium. By the time I show my press pass and get shown to my seat, the game is about to start. I know I'm supposed to be reporting on the game in general, but I can't help but take notice of JD. We went to high school together, and back then, I thought—well, maybe I just hoped that there was a chance he liked me, but that was never the case. Even though I still think about him all the time, and I still follow his career. I should probably thank him for this opportunity to do some real reporting because to be honest, if it wasn’t for him, I wouldn’t know much about football.
I try to focus on the game, and every offensive play, JD is in his position as left tackle. It's amazing to watch him because nothing gets by him. He protects the quarterback. Even the quarterback, Dylan Sutton, brags on him all the time in after game interviews. Usually, it's the center that is praised for protecting, but it's always JD Ryan that is mentioned. He is like a brick wall when it comes to the defense trying to get through.
I take notes and listen with my earbud in one ear so I can hear the commentators of the game, wanting to make sure that I don't miss a thing. I jot down when the running back Boone Jennings breaks his single game rushing record, and I scribble as fast as I can, taking notes of everything. I'll have to just go through it and decipher everything later. Right now, I just don't want to miss it. And of course, I make sure to keep a tally of how many blocks JD Ryan has. It may not go into the report I send Jamieson, but I’ll have it.
It seems like the game has just started when already it's over. Four quarters and the Knoxville Knights win. I'm listening to the commentators do the post-game wrap up, and of course they mention JD's name over and over.
I take a deep breath as everyone in the press box gets up and makes their way to the interview room. I know it will probably be a few minutes before the players get there, but already I'm a nervous wreck. I don't know why I am because everyone knows that JD does not do interviews, so most likely I won't even get to see him. But still there's some kind of impending knot in my stomach, like something is about to happen and I can't shake it. I walk behind all the men and settle into a chair in the back of the room. Looking at my notes, I try to think of questions that maybe Jamieson or my boss Mack would want answered.
Chapter 3
JD
I'm walking with the rest of the guys with a towel around my neck and wiping my face off. I’ve already removed my pads and sent them back to the locker room with one of the trainers. We won the game, and I’ll get a break now before things start up again. I know I should be happy right now, but I'm sort of pissed off. Of course, being mad probably made me play better. I enjoyed every time I put someone on the other line on their back. I know I need to let it go, but I can’t shake it.