Page 37 of Totally Opposed

HARRISON: Arlo knows about my past and loves me, anyway.

GORDON: Exactly fuckhead. And you have Arlo because you stopped fucking around. Look, they brought in rules after the Casey thing. If Alan and the kid want to do whatever Alan and the kid are doing, they can talk to the bosses, sign the waivers, and go for it.

He’s not a fucking kid. Oh my god, this shit has to stop.

ALAN: Firstly, WTF? And second, Ryan is not a kid! He’s 29 and I’m 30.

STEVIE: He’s 29? Seriously? I thought he was like 23, 24 tops.

BENNY: Yeah, I was sure no way over 25. He looks great for 29. Do you think it’s genetics or like does he have a whole skincare routine thing he does?

HARRISON: Gordon’s the only one with a skincare routine.

Seriously, how do these guys get anything done?

ALAN: Yes, he’s 29. And whatever Ryan and I do is between Ryan and me and doesn’t need the input from you lot. So can you stop discussing it like it’s something you get to debate and decide on?

PHILLIP: He’s right. Besides, if the rumors are true, they might not be on opposing teams for long. Plus, I’m pretty sure those agreements are for players on the same team, anyway. It says teammates on them.

BENNY: How do you know what the agreement has on them?

PHILLIP: I might have asked for one at one point last year.

BENNY: Really? Who was it? Are they on our team?

PHILLIP: It never eventuated to anything, so it doesn’t matter. I was curious about how hard it would be and it’s really not that hard. We’re all adults here, after all.

ALAN: I think that’s debatable judging from this chat thread.

HARRISON: We’re just worried about you. I’ve said it before, but I’ll say it just one more time. I really think dating a player is a bad idea.

ALAN: Noted, now can we all go to bed? We play the Funky Monkeys tomorrow, and as much as you might think otherwise, I want to kick their asses.

HARRISON: I’m sure that’s all you want to do to a Funky Monkey’s ass. ***Winky Face emoji***

Fucking Harry. Now all I can do is think about Ryan’s perfect round ass, and though we snuck into a linen closet for some mutual pleasuring before heading to bed, now my cock is thickening, and I wonder will it be bad luck to head to the bathroom to do a little solo stroking? I close my eyes, but when I do, all I picture is Ryan’s cock plump and heavy in my grasp. Fuck it. I climb from the bed and head to the bathroom.

If the Funky Monkeys beat us tomorrow, it can be all Harry’s fault.

***

I get a few disappointed looks from the guys when I get to the locker room. With the rumor on everyone’s minds, they probably think me being late reflects badly on all of them, but truth be told, if they are going to cut back to three teams, they would pick the best players from the lot of us to fill them, not just keep who’s on the teams now, so if anything, me being late helps them. I change and head out to the crowd, spend some time taking pictures with fans, and signing autographs, and then we play some fun old-school fair games. They set up a sack race down one side; the sacks are shaped like split-open banana peels and the people in them are wearing cream shirts with hoods to make them look more like the bananas as they hop down the field to the finish line. The winners get their choice of a plushieof their favorite mascot. Most of them choose the Banana, because the OG’s are legendary no matter where you go, but a few pick the Funky Monkey, too. Our mascot is a big-headed dude in an animal catcher’s outfit with a giant net. Kind of hard to complete. But when the next kid crosses the line and reaches for the AC mascot, I cheer.

“Yes, legend!” I call, and Benny and Harry look my way and then at the kid hugging the large soft toy.

“You thinking what I’m thinking?” Harry asks, and Benny and I both nod. “Stay there, kid,” Harry calls and we run up the stairs to the box seats. They always deck them out with the best displays, swag, and merch. And unlike the regular-sized plushies they are giving out on the field. Up here there are three bigger sizes, and we each grab one.

Harry runs down first with a plushie a little bigger than the one the kid has and he hands it over. The kid is clutching both at his chest with the biggest smile on his face. But then he spots Benny coming down with another slightly bigger again and his face lights up even brighter.

The kid’s mother is standing beside him, shaking her head with a smile as he’s passed the next one to add to his collection. He struggles to hold all three, and one hangs down by the arm, but his happiness is unmatched. At least it is until I come down with the largest of the plushies. This thing is about the same size as the kid, and when he sees me, he jumps up and down squealing.

I drop the large one in front of him, and he leaps forward, tackling it to the ground with the others still in his grasp. Now this is why we do this. Why we spend time with the fans before the game, after the game, fuck, even during the game. This right here. This pure joy, pure excitement. The fun and happiness it brings into people’s lives, but also into ours. This is what it’s all about.

Ryan walks by really close and I feel a slight pinch on my ass cheek as he passes.

I spin around, but it doesn’t look like anyone saw it. They’re all still looking at the kid as he and his mother struggle to carry all four plushies up to their seats for the start of the game.

I should warn him that the guys know about us. But I don’t want him to worry about what they think. I mean, I’m ninety percent sure he won’t care that they know, but in that ten percent, my heart is doing backflips at the thought of him ending it all.

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