Page 26 of Breakpoint
Dani cocked her head to the side and asked something that had been niggling in the back of her mind. “What's your deal with the press? You’re actually thoughtful—”
“Gee thanks,” Jaz replied sardonically.
“What I meant is that you have a lot of insight about tennis and how to approach the game. And we both know the press is part of the game, too, no matter how much you hate it. We need them to cover the sport for our sponsors and to get paid. But you blatantly treat them like shit and as you just said, give them nothing.”
“I don’t trust the press,” Jaz declared with determination.
Dani rolled her eyes because that was blatantly obvious. “No shit, but why?”
“Because they treat me like shit. Nothing I do is ever good enough, no matter that I’ve reached the pinnacle of our sport eighteen times. They constantly remind me I’m not good enough. I didn’t come onto the scene in the traditional route and all the tennis purists, who are usually the network commentators, don’t let me forget it. The tennis scene wasn’t kind in the beginning. When I turned pro at sixteen, it was always who do you think you are, coming to our sport and dominating us like that? And when Ireallystarted winning the racist remarks, microaggressions and straight vitriol was endless. And I was just a kid.” The frustration on Jaz’s face was palpable but also the pain in what she had lived through.
Dani could admit she heard many of the unflattering comments about Jaz over the years, some bordering on racist and others just outright racist and nasty. She now saw the impact of twenty years of this had on Jaz, because the pain and anger were etched acrossher face. Dani waited to keep going because she learned a while back, if she didn’t want Jaz to clam up, to not try to fill the silence with a question. But allow Jaz to process her thoughts and emotions in her own time.
After a few minutes, Jaz finally continued, “And then social media and the blogs would say, ‘Oh, you make millions of dollars, and this is what you signed up for.’ But I became a pro at sixteen. I didn’t know what I was signing up for. How many kids have their shitty days and awkward moments picked apart on television, often multiple times a day? I was a kid. Granted, I was better than any other kid and some adults in the country, maybe even the world. But I just wanted to play tennis with Brandon. I didn’t realize what else came with all this. The exposure. The attention when you’re as good as me.”
“Why didn’t you just quit?” Dani inquired.
“And do what, exactly? I became my family’s income. I was supporting us, putting food on the table, paying the bills and got us out of the hood. That’s where my fire comes from because I refuse to go back to gunshots. Plus, my team and all the other people who rely on me to support them. I’m as much of a business as I am a person, and if I stop this, all the money that flows to them stops as well. I have no choice but to succeed because everyone lives off my checks. Thankfully, I’m damn good.”
Dani marveled at how different their lives growing up had been. Her family would be thrilled if she didn’t play tennis. Dani neverhadto play. Or to worry about what would happen to her family if she didn’t win. She knew she would always be taken care of and that she would never go hungry. She was just playing for her loveof the game, not to survive with the pressure to take care of her family.
Jaz looked past Dani, staring into the distance wistfully as she spoke. “Besides, it’s the only thing I’ve ever done and all I’ve ever known. My world has really been tennis since I was thirteen. Hell, I don’t even know how to fill a prescription when I’m sick. Someone does it for me and things just show up.”
Dani remembered one night Jaz telling her she felt like a child star you always hear about in those True Hollywood stories. She didn’t have the childhood, teenage fun or early twenties debauchery. She never did or had time for partying or sneaking out with her friends. Jaz had been a professional, or preparing to be a pro as far back as she could remember. Even though Dani's parents were famous in the sports world, she still did normal things growing up.
“I’m sorry. For everything you have to go through,” she said honestly.
“It is what it is. Thankfully, I’m fucking awesome at tennis. But I keep a tight circle as small as possible with people I trust. And after all that I’ve been through, I chose not to allow anybody to project their stereotypes on me anymore. Tell me that I’m too aggressive, too dark, or that I'm just not good enough. So don’t feel sorry for me." Jaz shrugged her shoulders and seemed so resigned to her circumstances and life, like she had no other options. "But are we going to keep yapping or get back to this hit session?”
“Can we just extend our afternoon session?” Dani asked. Jaz looked like she wanted to argue because this was definitelyoutside of their normal training routine. “I promise I’ll have my head in the game by then and do some extra sprints, too.”
Jaz's hunches went back down at the notion of Dani agreeing to do extra sprints. Dani hated sprints, especially in the afternoon when the humidity was suffocating. Jaz walked over to Dani, touching her shoulder. It lasted just a second, but the contact pricked Dani’s skin like a faint electric shock. “Do whatever you think is best with the media and your family.”
“Thanks, I appreciate that.” Dani heard the sound of her phone ringing. She walked over to the bench area and flipped it over. “It’s Chris video calling me. I probably should take this.”
Jaz nodded. “Cool. I’m going to grab a smoothie. Then do a quick cool down and massage with Scott.”
Dani smirked. “You just want to finish the book you’re listening to? I know you, Jaz Mason.”
“Whatever,” Jaz shot back but there was a small smile playing across Jaz’ lips to let Dani know that she had been correct.
“At least you’re not one of those tennis players who plays pickleball for fun.” Dani laughed.
“Oh, don’t get me started on every pickleballer thinking they can actually play tennis at the same level.” Dani had heard Jaz rant a few times about pickleball taking over tennis courts. Jaz walked over to the bench, dropping her racket and grabbed her towel, water bottle and headphones to retreat up the lush green hill to the back entrance of her house. Dani couldn’t help but stare at Jaz’s ample backside lasciviously. But then, felt like an ass for checking her partner out again.
Dani finally hit the green button to answer the video call. She wasn’t surprised that he waited on the line until she picked up. “Hey, Chris, what’s up?”
“Dani! How are you?” he shouted with a wide smile. Before she could answer, he continued talking. “Great. So much is going on that I need to update you on. I’ve booked you for a morning show in New York tomorrow morning. And found another beverage company that wants you to do a bunch of social media blasts for them.”
Did he forget where she was and what she was doing? “Chris, I can’t go to New York. I’m in Florida training.”
“Again? Dani, you’re hot right now after your Wimbledon win with Jaz. We need to capitalize on this,” he declared with excitement, bulldozing right through her response.
She tried not to roll her eyes at him. She didn’t want him to feel ungrateful for all the work he was doing on her behalf, but she needed to focus. “Chris, the Olympics are coming up. Don’t you think we should focus on that? Winning gold.”
“Yes, you need to win gold.” He nodded, and she was glad they were on the same page about that. “But, Dani, it’s also my job to get you as many opportunities as possible. To build your brand.”
“But what will my brand be worth if I lose? Jaz says—”
