Page 2 of Tough Score

"Don't worry, I'll keep it to myself," I tell her.

I know she must be joking because Wrenley has been around long enough in the NHL that even I know that the man hasn't taken an interview in over a decade, and it's rumored that he refuses meet-and-greets with fans unless it's for a kid or a charity function. He keeps his head down when walking out of the Hawkeyes stadium and lets all the other players get the praise, seemingly uninterested in anything besides just playing the game he's hired for.

Adel turns her head to glance over at me. "I need to get back to my desk but I'm leaving you in good hands."

"Thank you, Adel," I tell her.

"Not a problem. Good luck and I'll see you on your way out," she says.

Then she turns and heads for the door.

Cammy opens her mouth to say something, but then the door to Sam's office opens, and a tall man with dark hair peppered around his ears stands on the other side of the door. My guess is that he's about the same age as my father—somewhere in his fifties.

He smiles the moment he sees me.

"You must be Keely Woods. My one o'clock interview?" he asks.

"Yes, sir, I am."

"Great. Come on in," he says, pulling the door open wide for me to pass through his office door. "Hold my calls, Cammy. Unless Phil Carlton calls with the new sponsor deal info. I need to know the minute that the contract comes through the legal office."

"Sure thing," I hear Cammy say as I take several steps through the threshold.

I hear the door click closed and then Sam takes steps behind me. My eyes dart around the room to take it all in.

Most of the pictures in his office are of a girl in ice skates—Penelope Roberts—with the most recent pictures of them together with the Hawkeyes center, Slade Matthews, as she sports her Olympics jacket and bouquet of roses in her hand.

I remember Penelope Roberts' huge return to the figure skating world. She and her partner took the world by storm. It was the feel-good story of the Olympics.

"Go ahead and take a seat," he says, walking around me, pointing to the two black leather chairs on the other side of his desk. "I hear that you're related to the one-and-only Oakley Humphries."

He lowers himself in his office chair, and the leather groans under his weight.

"Yes, that's right." I'm about to mention that Oakley is my father's brother but I bite my tongue before I let the words go. I'm not trying to pull a fast one over Sam's head by withholding information, but the likelihood that this interview will turn into a job offer is almost laughable. There's no point in giving away information that Sam doesn't need to be privy to. I hate the way that people in the sports world look at me when they know what my father has done. There's so much judgment and blame that gets cast my way. As if I knew anything about what my father was doing at the tender age of fourteen years old. "I just moved here from Arizona last week and I am beyond grateful for the opportunity to interview for this position. Without seeming too forward, Mr. Roberts, this is my dream job."

A job that feels more out of reach than ever before, due to who I'm related to.

"Sam, call me Sam, please," he says, pulling my paper resume off his desk to review it.

My clasped fingers, laying in my lap, begin to fidget, and I swallow down the lump in my throat as I watch Sam's gray-blue eyes dart from one side of the resume to the other.

"I see that you have a few years of experience working in a team sports environment for the University of Mesa. How did you like the work you did there? How was it working with a team of players?" he asks, still scanning my resume as he listens.

"I loved the busy days and the fact that nothing was ever the same. Working one-on-one with each player keeps every day fresh and different. Not a single player had the same needs as another. I really enjoyed the preventative work that we did there, implementing stretching and strengthening techniques during their workout routine to avoid future injury out on the field."

He nods, seemingly content with my answer.

"Why sports therapy? Once you received your masters in PT, what made you decide to put more hours into training and schooling in order to get your doctorate and sports therapy certificate?"

It's a good question, but one that I never had to ask myself when I decided to pursue Physical Therapy early on in my life.

"I have a passion for working with athletes. I played soccer in high school but tore my ACL and needed surgery. My mom took me to a DPT who specialized in sports injuries, Dr. Paula Jacobs. She spent more time with me than our allotted appointment time and even let me come in after my insurance stopped paying. To be in a field, where you get to do that sort of good and make a difference in people's lives drew me to it. I didn't get to return to the field before I graduated but that solidified it for me. I want to help others like she helped me."

And maybe, in some ways, this feels like a way for me to give back to the sports community when my father only took from it. Like a balance sheet that I'm desperately trying to even out. It feels like a losing proposition, but I have to try.

"And the reason for the six-month gap in your resume?"

I didn't include the college's letter of recommendation. It's better that I move on from here on out. Try to make a name for myself and prove that I'm really good at my job.

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