Thoroughly Innocent Intent

3. Colt

Colt

I rub my hand over my face, mentally preparing for the outburst to come. Looks like my last day of vacation won’t be as relaxing as I thought.

“But it’s opening night. You promised to take me.” Hadley pouts, running her fingers through my thick blond hair.

“I promised to take you. I didn’t say tonight, Darlin’.” My jaw feels a little rough under my palm, and I make a note to shave later.

“Are you canceling because of your daughter again? You’ve been doing that more and more ever since you two took that vacation last month. I’m getting lonely.” She sticks out her lower lip, something I used to find kinda cute, but right now it seems childish.

I suppose that’s sort of my fault. When Hadley and I got together, having fun was the only priority, and if that fun conflicted with something I had on the calendar with my daughter, Sawyer, I’d reschedule with Sawyer. I didn’t think Sawyer cared when we did stuff, and I’d always make it up to her with a gift. But I recently learned my rescheduling was a sore spot, and since then, I've made it my goal to be better about it. Unfortunately, that isn’t going over so well with Hadley, who has grown used to getting what she wants, when she wants it. Hence, her little pity party.

“I’m saying no tonight. It has nothing to do with Sawyer.” I roll out of bed and pull on a pair of shorts.

Truth be told, whether it’s because of my daughter or my career, Hadley’s time to get what she wants when she wants is about to end, for the next six to eight months, anyway. The season is about to start, which means everything is about football for the foreseeable future.

The pundits have us in contention to win it all this year, and with good reason. Our offense really gelled last season, and most of us are still on the roster. Plus, our quarterback, Shane Thomas, is a phenom, and at the risk of sounding cocky, the two of us are a force to be reckoned with. We won a ring together a few years back, and now is our best chance to do it again.

I want that second ring before I pack it in, which could be as soon as the end of this season. This body may be in peak condition right now, but I have to work harder and harder to keep it that way, and to compete with the younger guys. My time in this league is limited, and I’d like to go out on top. That makes winning the Super Bowl my top priority, not just for my ego, but for my future.

My life has revolved around this game since I was old enough to hold a ball in my hands, yet I have no desire to put it behind me when I step off the field for good. I need football like I need air, so my agent has been putting feelers out to see if he can get me a spot as a coach or a commentator. Super Bowl champion, Colt Trudeau, sounds good no matter which route I pursue, but two-time Super Bowl champ sounds better.

Winning won’t be easy, especially since the pundits have put a bit of a target on our backs, but I have a good feeling about this season-- and this team. But the warm and fuzzy feelings don’t mean s**t without the discipline and hard work to back them up. That’s why my focus has to be totally on the game, on and off the field. If that disrupts Hadley’s social life, well, so be it.

“You said since I didn’t get to go on vacation with you and Sawyer, you’d take me to the club.” She crosses her arms beneath her ample chest.

“No, darlin’, I promised to take you at some point, not the night before training camp starts.” I shrug my shirt on, too familiar with this routine to pretend I don’t know what’s coming.

It’s a familiar pattern, the whining that comes when the season starts, and I get serious. In years past, it hasn’t bothered me because it resulted in my being able to concentrate on the game. But for some reason, it grates now.

Maybe it’s because I just watched my ex-wife and daughter find happiness with another man. A good man, no question, and I’m happy for them because they deserve to have what I wasn’t good at giving them. Or maybe I’m just tired of the endless stream of groupies that are eager to date a football player until it’s time for me to play football, which apparently messes up their social calendar. Hell, maybe I’m getting old. Too old to keep living this pattern.

Each year, my relationships--or whatever they are--end when training starts. If any of the ladies had been willing to stick around while I was focused on the very thing that enabled them to live like princesses, I’d have been happy to have them. It’s not like I forced them out the door. But when the off season is over, I’m laser focused on football, and most women don’t appreciate having my attention split between them and the sport I love.

“What if I take you next weekend?” It’s not something I want to do during the season, but I’ll make an effort if it’ll make her happy.

“That’s not the same as going on opening night.”

I rub my hand over my face again, resigned to what comes next. Women don’t come before my career, period. Which is why I already know, when Hadley leaves today it will probably be for the last time.

If she walks out the door, I won’t be heartbroken. I like her well enough, and of course the s*x is good, but I’m not in love with her. I’m not even sure I’m in l**t with her, come to think of it. Either way, there’s nothing about her leaving that I’ll regret. That might make me sound like an asshole, but I’m only being honest.

Besides, I’m pretty sure what she likes best about me is my wallet and my d**k, anyway. She’s not actually with me for me. None of them have been. I’m cool with that because it makes it easy to move on once my focus shifts to the game.

“I’m not going out the night before camp, but you can always go yourself.”

“But I can’t get into the VIP section without you.” She bats her thick lashes.

Ah, there it is. The nail in the coffin. Let’s see if she drives it in.

“I only get treated like a VIP cause I play football. If I skip out on that so you can go clubbing, I won’t be doing it much longer. Everything I have is cause of football, and I owe it to my team and my coaches and the fans not to mess up on the field cause of what I do off it. I’m done partying for the next six months, eight if I’m lucky. You can go anywhere you want and do anything you want during that time. I’m not stopping you. I just won’t be going with you.”

“Oh, I get it.” She scowls. “Football is starting, so now you’re kicking me to the curb.”

“No.” I tell her honestly. “I’m telling you my schedule won’t allow for partying or traveling, but I’m not asking you to give those things up just cause I can’t do them with you. I have a job that requires me to be at my best physically, which means lots of sleep, no partying and clean eating all season long. If you want to stay with me during the season, I’m happy to have the company. But I’m good at what I do because I’m disciplined, and that means no fun and games during the season.”

I can see her weighing her options, wondering if I’m worth the sacrifices to her social life. It’s the same every year.

She drops her eyes to the ground, the corners of her mouth drooping. She’s made her decision. Her eyes get a little glassy, cause she feels a little sad about it, but not sad enough to stay. “I’m not sure that’s how I want to spend the next six months."

“I totally get it.” Everyone wants to enjoy their youth without limits. I was no different. Of course, I’d had a football career and a toddler that kept me from living that way as much as I would’ve liked when I was twenty-five, sort of, but I understand why Hadley would pick her social life over me. What I don’t understand is why that bothers me now when it never has in the past.

“I’ll just grab my things,” Hadley says quietly, letting the sheet fall away from her curves as she picks up her clothes and heads to the bathroom.

I sink onto the bed and rub my face. Maybe I am getting old. I didn’t always pick football over my social life. As a rookie, I juggled both pretty well, to the dismay of my ex-wife, but I’ve grown into a sense of responsibility over the years. Or, more accurately, I learned what my limits are so I can enjoy what life has to offer and still perform on the field. But focusing on a chick during the off season only to have her walk away when I put the party on hold? That’s starting to suck.

Maybe it’s time to give up the younger girls. Not that I ignore women my age or anything, but the younger ones have a reckless edge I find myself drawn to. But bold and daring seems to have an expiration date, and the closer I get to retirement the less that appeals to me.

One day I think I’d like to find someone that will stick around beyond the off season. I have some teammates that have found that, and they seem pretty happy. At the very least, they don’t spend the season alone, the way I typically do, and this past year I felt a little envious of that. I mean, coming home to a silent house and cooking dinner and watching tv alone doesn’t sound as nice as coming home to a cool chick, a hot meal and some time between the sheets. I’m not pining away for that exactly, but it doesn’t sound as bad as it used to.

“I think that’s everything.” Hadley emerges from the bathroom with a small bag of toiletries and clothes she kept here for the times she stayed over.

“Ok. Let me get those for you.” I rise off the bed and take the bag from her, following her through the house to the front door. We may be breaking up, but I’ve never been a d**k about these things. She collects her keys and purse from the table by the entry, then we head to her car where I load everything into the back seat. Before she gets in, I pull her to me for a hug.

“Take care of yourself.” I kiss the top of her head.

“You, too.” She squeezes me in return before getting in her car and driving away. I watch her go the same way I’ve watched so many others. Hadley was fun and I was glad to have her company while I did, but now it’s time to get back to work.

I run my hand through my hair and sigh, wondering what to do with myself now that I have the rest of the day free. I could squeeze in a workout, maybe lay by my new pool, and just relax. My daughter Sawyer might enjoy that. She hasn’t been here for a few weeks, and once camp starts, I won’t see much of her.

I reach for my phone to call her just as it starts to vibrate in my pocket. I check the name on the screen and answer right away, hoping for good news.

“Chaser.” I grin.

“Chase,” my agent corrects me tersely. He hates my nickname for him, but he chases more clients than I do skirts, so it fits.

“What’s the word, do I finally get to put this journalism degree to use, or should I concentrate on a coaching spot?”

“Neither, yet. I was thinking we need to beef up your visibility off the field, get you some good press for community involvement, charitable contributions, stuff like that. It would make you a more credible candidate.”

“Is this another way of saying my image needs work?” I may like to have a good time in the off season, but I’ve never been in a fight, been arrested, or gotten into trouble in any way, so if he’s suggesting I’ve got work to do I can’t imagine what for.

“Not exactly. I mean, your dating life is certainly active, but not explicit. I’m talking about the bigger picture. Everyone knows you’re passionate about the game, but they don’t know if you have any passions outside of it. Getting involved in something outside the game will help people understand who you are as a person, maybe even what you bring to the table besides football knowledge.”

“What else do I need besides football knowledge? That’s all commentating and coaching are about.”

“Not true, my friend. Commentators cover the players’ lives and interests, as well as the game. Coaches help drive team involvement in community events and typically do press to help promote those. Having experience with any of those things makes you more credible to fill all aspects of the job, not just the football aspects. And regardless of which path you focus on, you better believe your competition will bring more than just football knowledge to the table.”

I’d never really given it much thought before, but what Chaser says makes a certain amount of sense. There are player exposés that delve into the challenges some of them had to overcome to reach the highest levels, lots of players have foundations they put their name on and raise money for, and teams are always doing stuff to help out--from visiting kids at hospitals to community clean up to skills clinics. I’ve always just shown up where I was told to without considering what went into stuff behind the scenes. Maybe my football knowledge isn’t enough to make me stand out. But it’s all I know.

“I don’t have any passions outside the game, it’s my life.” That never sounded lame before, but now that I’m standing here alone, again, I wonder if it is.

“There has to be something. Animals, fighting cancer, youth sports,” he rattles off ideas.

“I donate money to all those things.”

“Okay, that’s a start. Which of them are you passionate about?”

“Um, I don’t know.” I scratch my jaw. “That’s just stuff the team organizes.”

“Then we need to find you some passions. Give you another dimension. You busy this afternoon?” His tone suggests I’m about to be.

“Not anymore,” I mutter.

“Good. I’m sending you to see a consultant.” I hear the rhythmic click of a keyboard in the background. “She specializes in non-profit organizations. Her parents were missionaries or activists or something, so she’s lived all over and grew up immersed in charitable organizations. She can help.”

“Help with what? I’m not joining the Peace Corps,” I grumble.

“Figuring out what you have an interest in outside football, maybe put together a foundation or some events to draw awareness for a cause you support.” My phone pings with an incoming email.

“Is this really necessary? Couldn’t I just join something that already exists?”

“Yeah, go that route. Hop on someone else’s bandwagon. What would you pick?” he asks sarcastically.

“Uh…” I

“Go see Samantha. Get some ideas and we’ll go from there. I just sent her address. Three p.m.”

Well, I guess I don’t have the day off after all.