Page 36 of Game Point
‘I’m more of a burrito guy,’ I retorted, trying to ignore how much his words rang true, how similar they sounded to how I felt. I’d never considered when I’d feel done, when I’d be ready to move on. Maybe the alarm had been ringing for a while now, and I’d kept hitting snooze.
‘Potato potahto.’ Jon waved me away. ‘Look at Nico. He knows he can’t keep going at the same level; his goals have changed.’
I crossed my arms. ‘Yeah, and they are named Scottie Sinclair.’
‘Don’t get me started on those two dramatic love birds.’ Jon shook his head. ‘Oh, I’m going to go play doubles with my girlfriend,’ he mimicked in a high-pitched voice.
I grinned wildly. ‘Wasn’t it your idea to put them together?’
A goofy smile grew across his face. ‘Yeah, I’m considering adding a matchmaker service to my coaching.’
I let out a heavy breath. ‘I … I don’t think I’ve considered coaching properly.’
Jon eyed me. ‘I think you’d do well. I bet you have a note of advice you’d give people if they ever asked.’
My cheeks almost burned at the accuracy of his words, my own phone burning a hole in my front pocket, the list with Dylan’s name at the top, and many, many suggestions listed underneath.
‘Who do you work for? The NSA? MI5?’
He grinned knowingly. ‘I’m good at reading people. Means I make a good coach.’
‘And career advisor apparently.’ I drained my mug of coffee.
‘Give it some thought,’ he advised. ‘See how you feel during your next competition.’
A silence fell as I thought on his words.Coaching?Was it really for me? I had no experience, outside of being coached for many years, and many more years of practical experience playing tennis.
‘I don’t play the same?’ I asked,
Jon crossed his arms. ‘Do you feel the same?’
‘I guess not.’ As I heard the words back, my life over the past year came into view. The divorce, the endless travelling, the missed finals and … her.
Clearing my throat, I added, ‘No, actually, I don’t think I have for a while now.’
‘Sometimes we don’t realize we need a change until it smacks us in the face.’
‘How do I know you’re not trying to get me to retire so I can stop beating your players?’
‘You don’t,’ he laughed. ‘But trust me, right now, they’d beat you no problem.’
‘Overconfident as always, Jon.’ I shook my head. Pausing again, I thought through his words, his advice. Something about it felt like it fit. Could I really see myself coaching? I wasn’t sure. I hadn’t exactly imagined myself on the other side of the net, guiding someone else’s playing instead of focusing on my own. ‘Is it Beijing you’re off to next? For the China Open.’
‘Yeah, Scottie and Nico are already out there with the rest of her team. I had some family business here.’ He nodded, looking a little suspicious.
‘I might have a favour to ask …’ I trailed off.
He smiled, looking down at the dark liquid in his mug. ‘If you provide better coffee, then I’ll hear you out.’
I hummed in agreement. ‘Coffee shop on the corner?’
‘Absolutely.’
12
Dylan
Sober – Lorde
