Page 136 of Against the Clock

Interviewer 2: Sorry.

Daniel: That’s fine. I have been honored to wear the navy and gold this season, and to have the support of some of the most vocal fans in the AFL. But today’s game was unlike the others I’ve played because it was my last.

Daniel Harrison: I have played for the AFL for nearly twenty seasons now. I have loved every second of it. It has been the time of my life. But it’s time for me to step down and let another quarterback take the limelight. It’s time for me to find out what happens after football. And it’s about damn time for me to stop ripping my arm out of its socket.

Daniel Harrison: It’s been an honor, and I’m grateful for all the coaches and team owners who’ve taken a chance on me throughout my career, but especially Coach Morelle, who’s been like a father to me.

Interviewer 2: Does this have to do with the new woman in your life?

Daniel: It has to do with me. It has to do with the fact that I’ve spent so long loving this game that I forgot there are other things out there to love. It has to do with the fact that I made one of those things cry today, because she was so worried about how I might hurt myself worse. I’ve been in denial about how much fight I have left in me. I’m going to be forty in less than six months. It’s been a good run, but I’m done now. It’s time to let someone else throw the ball. You can go against the clock as long as you want, but the clock’s going to win every time.

Daniel Harrison: My agent, folks. He’s not going to be real thrilled with finding it out this way.

Daniel Harrison: That’s all I’m prepared to say now, that and thank you to all of you, too. Have a good night.

Daniel Harrison stands up slowly, crossing to the end of the stage, before looking into the crowd. A small blonde woman pushes through the sea of reporters, and he tugs her to his body. The reporters cheer as he kisses her soundly on the lips.

CHAPTER 55

KELSEY

Daniel’s truck is easier to drive than I expected.

We’re both quiet as I pull onto the Delaware bridge, the river dark and silent beneath us. Traffic’s not nearly as bad as it was going to the game, and I ease my grip on the wheel.

“I love you,” Daniel says suddenly, and I glance over at him.

He’s taken whatever anti-inflammatories and pain meds the team doc gave him, and even though I know he’s going to be okay, and with rehab his shoulder will heal, I can’t quite dissolve the lump in my throat when I think about how hard he hit the turf this afternoon.

“I love you,” I say. “You okay?”

“Yeah.”

“Listen… Daniel. I know you said it was time to retire, but I… I feel guilty about it. I don’t want to be the reason you gave up football.”

I didn’t mean to say it. I didn’t mean to ever say it, but now it’s out there, between us. I exhale into the heaviness of it, my gaze darting from the dashes on the road to his face.

“Kelsey, look at me.”

I do, and his blue eyes are warm, a relaxed smile on his face. “Do I look upset?”

“No.”

“If I look hurt, love, it’s not because of that choice, which was fully my choice. My shoulder is in terrible shape. The rest of me is held together with K-tape and willpower, and I’m tired. I had a good run. I had an incredible run, and I’d rather retire on a win than retire when they have to cart me off the field on a stretcher.”

I make a small noise of distress.

“It didn’t happen, Kels. I’m in one piece, and even though I’m hurt, and have some long days of rehab and physical therapy ahead, I feel good. I feel better than I’ve felt in a long time. I did the hardest thing I’ve had to do in a long time, but when I looked at you in that crowd of reporters? When I saw you smile? You made it so easy.”

“Daniel,” I say on an exhale.

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