Page 25 of (La)Crosse My Heart

“And you’ve got the best situation ahead of you if you’d just fix what you’ve got going on here. Giving Jessa a big part of your mental block might just be the way to get you cured. Then at least you don’t have to try to describe it. She can see it all firsthand and then do her thing from there.”

Shaking my head, I say, “I doubt it. I’m not the best at interviews.”

“Did you see my final one at the end of the season last year?” Burton waits a moment and then says, “I talked about lacrosse as if it was part of a dinner menu. I’m telling you, man. Don’t screw this up, so the rest of us can get the help we need.”

He’s dead serious, but from his words, I can’t help but laugh at the whole situation.

“You’d think there would’ve been something like this in college,” I say.

“For what?”

“Like a prep class for interviewing.”

Burton shakes his head. “Are you kidding? At our school, they just made it as easy as possible for the athletes to win and basically guided us through the interview process. Now, it’s like the reporters are just trying to make us look like meatheads.”

I nod, chewing on that for a moment.

“The hardest part to get past is the worry. Am I going to be humiliated again?”

Burton glances over and says, “The real question is, do you want to be paid well for giving it your best shot? Or are you going to hide and feel sorry for yourself because you got made fun of a couple of years ago?”

Well, that was definitely direct.

We let the silence marinate for a few moments as we pull down the road to our house.

I get out of Burton’s car and grab my stuff from the backseat, knowing I’ve got to get this fixed. I can’t sit and worry about how everyone is going to take my words. I need to show them my fun, relaxed side and let everything slide that people add about my words.

“Are you not going inside?” Burton asks.

“No, I think I’ll take your advice and get working on things right now.” I take my bag with me over to Jessa’s house and knock on the door. As I stand there, I wonder if I should’ve takenanother shower before coming over. I took one at the arena, but sometimes it takes my body a while to register that we’re no longer working out.

The door opens. “Hey Clark. Do you need something?”

Why does she have a pitying look on her face?

“You watched the clip, didn’t you?” I say, trying to push the frustration down.

“Yeah, what’s wrong with that? I have to have all the facts to help you, and knowing the root cause is the best for that.”

I sigh, remembering Burton’s words. “True. Do you have time to work on some pretend interviews, or what’s the next step for this?”

That I’m flustered is an understatement, but I’ve been through enough games in my career to know that nothing can get better if we don’t push through the hard.

“Yeah, I was just working on a plan.”

There’s a large peal of brakes and I turn to see a large semi parking in front of the house.

“They’re here,” Jessa says, clapping her hands.

“Is that your stuff?” I ask. Peeking into the house, all I see are bare floors. I didn’t realize she doesn’t have any furniture yet.

She nods. “Do you mind if we wait until they’re done moving everything in? I’d love to direct them and not have to move things a few times.”

I nod. “For sure. Let me know if you need help lifting anything.”

She smiles, and it does something to my chest. I take a step back so she can walk out to greet the guys.

I walk back to the house and try to reason that the feelings I’ve been going through are normal with Jessa. Maybe we’ve just spent too much time together and this will all be over when she’s successfully fixed me.

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