Page 2 of Hot Route
He paused, thinking before he answered.
“I have a great team of doctors and physical therapists who tailor made my rehabilitation plan specifically for that. I think my knee is as strong as ever and I feel great when I’m cutting or juking defenders. The injury was a setback, but I’m grateful that I had the opportunity to learn my body better as I healed.”
The reporter smiled as she pulled the microphone back in front of herself.
“Thank you so much, Jon. Good luck today.”
“Thanks, Molly,” he said, ending the interview before jogging off.
I stood there in awe as my little mind imagined a future where I could make grown men stop in their tracks to talk to me about the game. I wouldn’t be the weird girl who knew how many touchdowns my favorite players had on the season or the number of career wins a head coach had under his belt. I would just be normal here. They’d see me and respect my knowledge and love of sports.
For the entire four quarters of football that followed, I thought of the perfect post-game questions for the winning team. And I smiled at the thought of a time when I’d be the one asking them.
I’m brought back to the present as my mom steps forward, wrapping her small arms around me. I inhale her comforting scent as I commit it to memory for those nights where I’m sure homesickness will find me. Thankfully, I’ll be staying with my cousin Sarah at her apartment until my internship paychecksstart coming in, so at least I’ll have a little familiarity. But every girl knows there’s nothing like a hug from your mom sometimes. My throat tightens at the thought.
She steps back, her expression hardening before launching into one of her famous Diane Rodgers pep-talks.
“You are a strong, smart, independent woman. You’re stepping into a male dominated world and there will be times when people try to make you second guess whether you belong. Don’t you let them put doubt in your head and heart. Nobody is more qualified for this job than you. And I can’t wait to turn on my television one day soon and see you commanding the sidelines.”
“Thank you, Mom. For everything,” I say, tears filling my eyes. I give her one last hug before hopping into my dad’s waiting arms. Words fail me because what do you say to the man who taught you everything? The one who sat in front of the computer, pausing game replay videos and breaking down each play into words a young girl could make sense of. We spent hours learning the history of the game and trying to stump each other with facts and statistics.
All I can manage is a choked “I love you, Dad.”
I owe these people everything for fueling my dreams of becoming a sports journalist.
“Okayyyyyyyyyy. Get the hell out of here so I can move my stuff into your room and claim my spot as your parents’ new favorite daughter,” Dia chides, although I know she’s using humor to mask her emotions.
Classic Diamond.
I roll my eyes before smacking one last kiss to her cheek and getting into my car. Turning the key, it makes a small sputter before the engine roars to life. I smile triumphantly as I fasten my seatbelt, hearing my father mumble something aboutthat pile of shit car belonging in a junkyard.That’s a problem forfuture Mads who gets big girl paychecks. I just need to make it to Boston and I’ll be golden. At least for now.
“Bye! Stay out of trouble!” I yell from the window, waving to the three most important people in my world as they get smaller and smaller before disappearing from my rear-view mirror.
Now, there’s nothing left to do but look forward. And the future looks pretty amazing.
I’ve been on the road for about five hours and my legs are dying to get out and stretch. Taking the I-90 from Chicago all the way to Boston isn’t exactly the most scenic route and I’m bored out of my mind. I’m about a quarter of the way through Taylor Swift’s full discography and while that’s kept me busy, I need a break from driving.
I’m sobered by the thought that I’m actually on my own. I know I’m in Cleveland, but I’ve never been to Ohio before and I’m a little nervous being in a strange place by myself. Mist fills my eyes as I realize that this is my life now. Just me, chasing a dream that I may never reach without the people I love holding my hand along the way.
As doubt creeps into my head, I’m on autopilot as I mindlessly follow the highway signs. Before I know it, I’m waiting at the stoplight off the exit to Downtown Cleveland. Pulling into a parking space, I feed the meter with enough change to buy myself about thirty minutes. Even though I’ve never been here, my destination is lit up with bright lights in front of me.
Pulling up my hood, I let my feet bring me exactly where I need to be. As the entirety of the Cleveland Rockers’ stadium comes into view, something inside me settles. Just like our fieldat home, it’s huge. A big Jumbotron sits atop the stadium, replaying game highlights and interviews from seasons past. People are walking by, paying me no attention as I sit on a bench painted in their team colors of purple and orange before closing my eyes.
I listen to the sounds of the game replays and cheering fans on the screen as my body relaxes. This is where I belong. I love all sports, but football is my safe space. The chaos of the game is home to me.
With a renewed excitement for whatever the future holds, I walk back to my car. As I merge back on to the highway, I can’t help but feel butterflies in my stomach while I crank up the music and head toward my new home.
TWO
MADS
I getout of the shower, reaching for one of the fluffy white towels supplied by room service. I arrived in Boston last night, opting to stay at a hotel instead of showing up on Sarah’s doorstep with all my shit on a weeknight. I know she was expecting me, but I didn’t want to wear out my welcome before I even moved in by waking her in the middle of the night when she had to work in the morning. Plus, I have a meeting with Jacob Shane this afternoon to sign the contract for my internship.
I dry my body before gently using the towel to squeeze the excess water from my thick, brown hair. Wiping the steam from the mirror, I look at my reflection.
“You, Madison Rodgers, are about to make all your dreams come true,” I say out loud. “If any of those boys tell you you shouldn’t be there, you kick them right in the taint!”
It’s not exactly my mother’s pep-talk vibe, but it does the trick. I puff up my chest, spin on my heel, and head out of the bathroom. Opening my garment bag, I pull out my most professional looking outfit and lay it on the bed. I check the clock and realize that I still have about thirty minutes to relax before I need to start getting ready for my meeting. I’ve alreadyresearched transportation and know my way to the T, so I won’t have to spend unnecessary time trying to find parking.
