Page 36 of (La)Crosse My Heart

He laughs, the deep rumbling doing something to my chest. “I don’t know if that would be any better, but I guess whatever will help the cause.”

We hang up, and I smile, thinking of Clark interacting with the kids. He'd always been good with the ones in our neighborhood as a teen and had even helped a bunch of the younger field rat siblings get excited when they saw him.

I'm curious to see what he comes up with for tomorrow. It’ll be a good time to get shots of all the players on my camera, and maybe I’ll do an impromptu interview to help him get used to it.

I spend the afternoon creating posts and trying to get things started for the social media platforms.

There's a call from Coach Martin around dinnertime, and while I'm mentally exhausted from the day, I know I probably shouldn't let it go to voicemail.

"Hey Coach," I say, leaning back on the wall in my bedroom. I glance around and see that I've moved so much while working in my bed that I've pulled the comforter almost all to the one side.

"Jessa, how did things go today?"

"They went well, Coach. How can I help you?" When I'm not in the mood for small talk, my filter slips.

"That's a great question. I was thinking about Clark and figured I'd check in. How are things coming along with him?"

"There's some progress, not a ton, but enough to give me hope."

"Good, good. Is there anything I can do?" he asks.

"Not unless you can think of anything that would help him get over this. I'm planning to do some fake interviews, and I've worked on his wardrobe. The guy needed help with his style."

Coach Marting chuckles. "That's awesome. I'm grateful for that. He's a good-looking guy who loves his comfort."

"Well, hopefully he's a little more ready to go. Also, does the organization not have a camera crew or social media people? I thought that was just standard stuff."

"You would think that, but we'll get there. Stockton just bought out the company less than a year ago, and while sometimes their movements feel slower than we'd like, they’ll get around to it. I'll push that along, though."

"Well, I started a new profile for the team. The other one only had a few strange posts anyway.”

“Yeah, that was probably Penny. She was the granddaughter of the old owners and they kind of let her do what she wanted.”

“That makes sense. It might not be big money at the beginning but every bit helps when we're trying to help the guys progress. I’ve got a camera and can get that started, if you’re okay with it?”

"That's outstanding, Jessa. If you need to be on the field to get shots for any of this, you have my approval. Anything that will help the guys get the recognition they deserve, I'm behind it."

I tear up a bit. Would Brock's career have looked different if he had someone like Coach Martin in his corner?

He'd been injured, but the coach hadn't given him the time of day when he came back the following year, looking at him as damaged goods.

"Thanks, Coach. That means a lot for even me, and I don't play."

"You know where to find me, Jessa. Have fun and I'll see you soon."

"Oh, before you go, have you heard about anything for this event tomorrow?"

Maybe the organization had sent the more intensive and detailed instructions to him.

"Yeah, it's going to be a good one. The Play It Forward organization donates the equipment and our guys will show up to interact with the kids."

"Do you have a time frame? I'm worried the guys won't show until noon and then the kids will miss most of the activities."

"Let me check on that." I wait for his words, my pen poised to write it down.

"Okay, it looks like we'll need to be there for registration at nine and then the day ends at three thirty."

I hadn’t planned something that long. "That helps. Are we filling the slots for registration or how is that working?"

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