The flight to Nashville was delayed twice before anyone bothered to explain why.
Weather somewhere over Ohio, according to the gate agent, which meant the entire team was stuck in an airport lounge for what was quickly becoming several hours instead of the original ninety-minute layover. Players scattered across the space, headphones on, cards out, the practiced boredom of people who traveled for a living.
I ended up in a corner near the windows, laptop open, trying to finalize travel treatment schedules for two players nursing minor injuries. Sawyer found me there an hour in, dropping into the seat beside me with the particular exhaustion of someone who'd spent the last hour fielding sponsor calls about the delay.
"Room for one more?" he a
