Page 158 of Scoring the Player
“Sorry?”
“May I share an observation with you?”
I reach into my pocket to swap my toothpick for a fresh one. “Shoot.”
“You know how we talked about the window of tolerance concept?”
“Yeah, you said I got a narrow window.”
Her eyes crease at the corners. “We observed that your nervous system becomes overwhelmed by big emotions, and dissociation can kick in as a protective mechanism. What else do you remember?”
I clench the toothpick between my teeth.
Sid won’t let me lose my starter position. I need to buy him a car. I think I know the one.
“It’s okay if you don’t remember. I can provide a refresher. When you’re inside your window of tolerance, you feel present?—”
“Iampresent. Every game. That’s why I’ll be tight if Coach doesn’t start me.”
She waits a beat, then continues, “Tell me more.”
“’Cause I’m a starter. I’ve proven myself,” I explain.
“Okay. I don’t doubt that. What would it mean if you didn’t start?”
“I just told you. I’ll be tight.”
“You’ll be upset?”
“Yeah.”
“Let me ask it differently. If you don’t start, you’ll be upset, but then what happens?”
I rub my sternum.All week, some dick with heavy boots has been flicking around a lighter in there.
“I’m gonna have a talk with him.”
“Okay, and if you have a talk with your coach and he still benches you, then what?”
“I would…” I bounce my knee. “It’s fucked-up.”
“Mm. Because you earned your position as a starter?”
“Yes.”
She nods and places her stylus down. “I hear you. I do.” She leans back in her chair, looking out the window. “I don’t know.” Her chest rises, then falls as her fingers tap on the screen. “I’msensing there’s something deeper at work here. Are you open to us trying an exercise?”
Oh god.
I cross, then uncross my ankles.
Thirteen minutes...
The heavy-footed dickhead behind my sternum discovers a blowtorch. I grunt out an “Okay.”
“Close your eyes.”
I rub my palms on my thighs as everything goes dark.
