Page 72 of Striking Heat
“Oh captain, my captain, I did not think you would say things like that.” He teases me.
“Whatever.” I say shake my head at him. “Ask me what you want to ask me.”
“Okay.” He pulls out his iPad and it comes to life. The screen saver is of him and some guys in front of a pool. They’re all wearing medals.
“Looks like a shot of you from the Olympics.”
“It is. Some of the best guys I ever swam with.”
“Cool,” I reply. I’m never sure what to say or how much to say about it. It’s like a wound that rips open without a moment’s notice for him. It puts him in a dark place, and I don’t want him like that when I’m stuck sitting beside him.
“How long have you been playing soccer?”
I guess we’re to the question part of the flight. “Four. I was four.”
He nods and types something. “What has your career been like? If you could sum it up in one word, what would that word be?”
I sit back and think about it for a minute, smiling at him. “That’s a good question. I would have to say lucky. I got to play on a great team in high school, which got me noticed by colleges. I landed a D1 team, and that helped me get here to Tampa. Sure, I work hard, but I believe I’ve been lucky to receive a lot of the opportunities that I have.”
He nods. “Good answer. I would have thought you’d say something else or believe that everyone makes their own luck.”
I shake my head. “No, I gotta believe that some of what has happened to me has been luck. The luck of a higher power or something.”
“Okay.” He looks around the plane for a bit and then turnsback to me. “I’m sorry for having to ask this next question, but Nick thought it would be good to know for the article.”
I swallow. “Okay.” It comes out like more of a question.
“What would you say about the team's record to the fans that don’t really know anything about soccer?”
“I hate this question, but I get why you guys think you need to ask it. I would say that we’re a new team. We are still working on gelling. It’s no different than any other athletic team. Although, we have a similar record right now to what the Bucs have in the NFL, and I bet no one is shaking their heads when they take the field. And no one is saying they don’t belong in Tampa because they already have the Dolphins in Miami.”
Danny gives me a mile-wide smile, one I haven’t seen since we were alone in his place. “There’s my girl. I love that answer, and I’m going to print it. We’ll have to make sure Cromwell approves, but you’re absolutely right.”
I shake my head. “And you said the same fucking thing when you did an interview with me in the pressroom. You were trying to make me feel like I don’t belong. And now you want to be proud of me. Interesting, Danny Taylor.”
“Yeah, it sure is,” he says, and then he looks back at this iPad, ready to ask me more questions. “But what about the playoffs? What do you think it will say to the city of Tampa if you’re not in the playoffs?”
“Mr. Taylor, it’s April. The end of April. The season will run into October, maybe—if we’re lucky. So, I think it’s a little early to ask us about the playoffs. We can still turn it around. We may be down, but we are certainly not out.”
“Okay. Noted.” He looks back at the iPad.
The questions continue like that, and the answers continue to be snide. Danny keeps firing them at me, and I keep knocking them out of the park. A few of the players are looking around their seats at us or looking at us from across the aisle. Clearly, myanswers are causing them to turn. They seem happy with my responses.
“What else do you want to tell me?” Danny asks me. “That I haven’t asked you yet.”
“I just want you to make sure you remember that we may be a new team, and we may be green in some people’s eyes, but we’re here to stay. This team is going to rise up, and we’re going to do great things. They just have to give us a chance.”
He winks at me. “Thank you for your time, Mackenzie Dixon. You are certainly a pleasure to interview.”
“Is that all you’d like to ask me?” I’m surprised the interview is over so quickly.
“Yeah, I think we’re good. I’m going to work on this a bit tonight and over the weekend. Get a few more quotes and things from your teammates, and I think we should be wrapped up.”
I nod. “Okay.”
He nods back and repeats, “Okay.”
Sitting here on this airplane getting ready to land in Washington DC, it feels like something has ended. Which makes me wonder if the time at my place was the last time we would be together like that. It makes me a little sad and nostalgic and makes me long for the moments we had alone together. I hate that we’re stuck on an airplane with so many people listening, so it doesn’t feel like us. It feels like we’re the people back in the pressroom.
