Page 2 of Catching Her Heart
Ted laughs and the sound is warm and genuine. "Nice to meet you, Piper. And for what it's worth, it’s not always obvious who does what around here. You asked good questions."
"Even though I was asking them to the wrong person?"
"Especially because you were asking them to the wrong person," he says. "Most reporters only want to talk to the flashy guys. You were looking for the real story."
There's something about the way he says it that makes me think he might actually mean it. But I've learned not to trust athletes who are too charming.
"Well," I say, trying to regain my professional composure, "since you are apparently the person I should be talking to, would you be willing to do a proper interview sometime? On the record?"
Ted considers this. "What kind of story are you working on?"
"The truth," I say. "About what's really behind this team's success. Not the PR-friendly version, but the actual story."
Something shifts in Ted's expression, becoming more guarded. "And what makes you think there's a story there?"
"Because teams don't just flip a switch and become contenders overnight. Something changed, and I want to know what."
Ted is quiet for a moment, studying my face. "You know, most reporters who come through here are looking for drama. Clubhouse conflicts, contract disputes, personal problems. Is that what you're after?"
"I'm after the truth," I repeat. "Whatever that is."
"Hmm." Ted picks up a batting helmet and turns it over in his hands. "Tell you what. Come to tomorrow's game. Not as a reporter, just as someone trying to understand baseball. Watch how the team actually works together. Then we'll talk."
"I don't need to learn how to watch baseball," I say, a little defensive. "I know the game."
"Do you?" Ted's smile is calm but challenging. "Because you just spent ten minutes talking to me about team dynamics, and you didn't once mention pitch framing, or how a catcher manages a pitching staff, or the mental side of calling a game. You know the statistics, but do you know the story?"
I open my mouth to argue, then close it. Because he's right, and that's exactly the kind of surface-level understanding that got me in trouble before.
"Fine," I say. "I'll watch the game. But I'm still a reporter, and I'm still going to ask the hard questions."
"I wouldn't expect anything less," Ted says. "See you tomorrow, Piper."
As I walk away, I can't shake the feeling that I just had my first real conversation with an athlete who didn't try to snow me with clichés or charm me with false friendliness. Ted Brennan actually seemed to care about giving me thoughtful answers.
Which, of course, probably means he's the most dangerous interview subject of all.
But as I replay our conversation in my mind, I realize something else: for the first time since I arrived in Austin, I'm actually looking forward to tomorrow's game. Not because I'm hunting for a story, but because I'm curious to see Ted Brennan in action.
And that might be the most dangerous thing of all.
CHAPTER TWO
I arriveat the stadium far earlier than I need to, determined to find the press box without looking like a complete amateur. The credentials hanging around my neck feel heavier today, weighted with the embarrassment of yesterday's Ted-is-the-equipment-manager incident.
The problem is, this stadium is apparently designed by someone who thought navigation should be an Olympic sport. I've been wandering for twenty minutes and I’m still lost. Every sign I follow leads to another sign pointing me in a different direction.
"Excuse me," I ask a security guard, "do you know how to get to the press box?"
He points vaguely upward. "Take the elevator to the third level, follow the signs."
I've been following the signs. The signs are lying.
After another ten minutes of wandering, I spot an opening that looks promising. Finally! I go in and step into a section of seats with a perfect view of home plate.
This has to be it. I settle into an empty seat in the third row, pull out my notebook, and congratulate myself on figuring it out. The other seats around me are filling up with what must be other media members and VIPs. Everyone looks so comfortable and familiar with each other. These must be the seasoned baseball reporters I'll be working with.
"Oh my goodness, you must be Ted's new girlfriend!"
