Page 39 of Necessary Roughness

I raised an eyebrow.

The man had just confirmed that he definitely knew I hadn’t agreed to a speech. He was a persistent man, I’d give him that. And since it was for a good cause, I couldn’t say no.

By the time I had made up my mind, we were practically at the bottom of the stairs that lead up to the stage. As I ascended, bright lights shone in my face, blocking the crowd from my view.

I wasn’t sure if that was a good thing or a bad thing.

During my playing years, I had grown accustomed to being in front of the camera. It was basically required of all players. Written into our contracts even.

We had to put our faces out there, talk about the game, and get in front of the camera.

So, this was nothing new.

The problem?

I couldn’t stop thinking about Brett. I needed to break away and find my goddamned phone so I could listen to his podcast.

Or maybe I could Google his name and find a summary of the things he had said.

But first, a speech.

Once at the podium, I realized I had nothing to say. No one had prepared me for this, so I wasn’t ready.

Instead of trying to piece together an awkward speech, I decided to share a story of my first dog when I was a kid. A rescue named Doug.

Doug the dog.

We had loved him endlessly until the day he passed. My relationship with him taught me so many things as a child, and I had been grateful for the opportunity to provide a neglected animal with a happy home.

A few minutes later, I wrapped up my story with a few comments about how much I respected Guardian Paws and the tenacious ambition of its founder Joe Miller.

The crowd applauded and I walked off the stage to find Joe standing by with a phone that looked curiously like my own.

“You dropped this by the bathroom,” he said with a grin. “Thank you so much for your speech.”

Did this little devil steal my phone so that I’d give a speech?

But I didn’t care. Not in the slightest.

The only thing on my mind was Brett’s podcast and the assessment of me contained within.

“My pleasure!” I said, turning and pausing for a few handshake photos with Joe.

I secretly wanted to interrogate him about my phone, but there might be time for that later.

As I rushed away from the crowd, I searched for a quiet section of the hotel so I could listen to the podcast in peace or at least read a summary.

Finding a quiet spot was a difficult task.

The burdens of fame meant that everywhere I went people noticed me. Came up to me. Talked to me. Wanted a photo with me.

Normally, I tried to be kind and considerate, always stopping for photos whenever asked. But today was not the right day for that.

Finally, after rushing through hallways looking like a madman, I found a quiet alcove with no one around.

Frantically, I pulled my phone out of my pocket to do a quick search for both myself and Brett Mercer to see what I could find.

He had a growing profile online and had started to receive news coverage from major publications, meaning that his reach was only magnifying.

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