Page 169 of Scoring the Player
“What’s going on?” I ask as he leans against the door.
“You know how I extended an invite tonight to everyone in the locker room?”
“Yeah…”
“Including the coaching staff…” He winces.
“Seriously?” I groan.
“My bad. He wasn’t there when I told everyone,butWes and Jamie brought him. I can kick him out.”
We’ve already made practices tense by ignoring and avoiding each other. I rub my neck and stare at my car.
I’m not trying to bring that energy to Ty’s event.
“Don’t leave. I’ll make him go,” he says.
“Nah,” I grumble. “It’s whatever. Come on.”
“You sure?”
“Yeah.” I step forward, forcing him back until the door opens.
He hands me a plate as we make a pit stop at the food table.
“Thanks,” I say absently, staring out at the view. Being this high up, it feels like I can reach out and touch the treetops and mountains.
It makes me think of the family of deer at our cabin.
I check my phone to make sure the ringer’s on.
“Thanks for coming through,” Ty says as I approach the patio, extending a dap.
“Thanks for having me.”
“Wassup?” I say to Ty’s Knights teammates, Idris, Tevin, and Malik, sitting around the circle, and nod to Wes and Jamie.
I slide into the empty seat next to Idris, avoiding the empty one near Aiden.
“Alright,” Ty says, “I think we can get started. The idea of creating a chill space for those of us in the league who struggle with depression and stuff came to me during a phonecall with my uncle. When I told him about a friend I’d met, he said something like he couldn’t tell me how many times a conversation with a friend helped him or that friend off a ledge. He’s a retired firefighter who’s seen some messed-up stuff on the job. And then, Arnaz, when your article came out, and you talked about your depression, it helped me see that I’m not alone.”
He pauses to acknowledge me, and I nod, feeling like an impostor. I came out because I couldn’t stay in the closet anymore. This is different.
“I’ve also had similar conversations with some of you here,” he continues. “We all know why we’re here. Thank you for showing up. Before I open up the floor?—”
The doorbell rings.
“I got it,” Sid says, hopping up.
Ty lays the ground rules, asking us to assume best intent when someone is sharing their experience, give the speaker the floor, step out if we need to take a call, and keep what’s discussed here private.
As footsteps approach, we all turn to find Ray, the other half of the Easton and Ray duo, trailing behind Sid.
“Still cool for me to join?” Ray asks, dapping Ty.
“You’re right on time. Want to grab some food?” Ty replies.
“Good lookin’, I just ate.”
