Page 223 of Steeling Her
“What made you want to move here?” the man in the center of the table with the navy blue tailored suit asks me next. You can tell that these people are paid heavily based on the clothes they are wearing today.
“There is more opportunity out here. It’s a large city with lots of people who need help. I used to come out here sometimes with my family . . .” I begin hesitantly. I wanted to keep that out of the conversation with no mention of my dad or brothers, but I’m not even in here five minutes and I’ve dropped the bomb already. “I’ve always liked the atmosphere out here. It’s inviting and wholesome but a competitive field to work in. I want to be the best I can be, so I want to surround myself with some of the best. I know that out here you have to start at the bottom and work your way up, and I’m doing quite well doing just that,” I say honestly. Working with the best, you will learn a few things throughout your career, and that’s why I’ve always wanted to move out here. For me, I can’t do any better than moving out here and working hard to prove myself so that I can work in the industry I’ve been dreaming of.
Even with the rocky start to the interview and some tough questions, I knew my heart was wholly in it, but they kept asking about my experience with athletes, which I don’t have much of. I’ve been stressed. The past few weeks have turned me into a miserable person, and I hope it’s not reflecting in this interview. I’ve been so miserable that I’ve locked people out and haven’t spoken to anyone since that night. There’s a weight hanging on my shoulders and pulling me down. I’ve been avoiding everyone and preparing for this for weeks.
This is my one shot.
I haven’t answered any calls. All I’ve been doing is going to work and coming home. I’ve been actively avoiding Ted, too, and it’s making me exhausted. I know I have to eventually face the music, I just need my strength for when I do it.
“You haven’t had much hands-on experience with athletes in your working years, why is that?” There’s the one question that I’ve been dreading since walking in here, all the other experience questions have been leading up to this one.
“Usually, athletes stick with the therapists hired by their own teams, but I have had contact with one of your own.” I hate to admit, but I have to mention it. “Nick Jackson had visited our clinic a few weeks ago and has returned a few times for check ups on his shoulder, which is healing nicely from an old tear. I have worked on a program with him to help build it back up to its full potential as he is the first string quarterback for the team. He’s in demand and needs to be playing at a high performance for his games,” I confess to something they look to be unaware of.
“Is that so? We were trying to figure out why he was refusing treatment and where he went for it,” the older man on my right responds while looking at the rest of the panel with a lighthearted giggle. He leans back into his seat and observes me incredulously. “Why do you think he went to you and not our own therapists?” A question I already know the answer to but it’s not appropriate for this time.
“I must assume that he’s been recommended to me thanks to my reputation as a physical therapist. I pay attention to all my clients; I help update their exercise, nutrition schedules, and regimes after every visit as a person’s body can change in a short period of time, especially an athlete’s. I was able to focus on his a little more than normal if he was to come in here,” I reply.
And that I know his body better than anyone else. I know it in detail,I add this last detail in my head.
“Do you think that he will continue to outsource if we hire you?” they ask me.
“No, he’s used to me. I’m good. I have a great attention to detail with everyone that visits me. I love my job, and I enjoy talking to my clients. It would be the same if I worked in here too.” I nod, assuring to them that nothing would change if they were to hire me.
“In all honesty, Ms. Steel, I really shouldn’t be telling you this, but we’ve heard a lot of great things about you from your father and brothers.” I internally groan to myself. This is not what I wanted. I wanted to do this by myself. I wanted to work for it and not have my family put in a word for me, as much as I appreciate it. This is not how I wanted to start off my career in this industry. I don’t need a boost above everyone else pining for this position. It’ll only add fuel to the fire.
If there’s one thing that my parent taught me to be, it’s to be fair in life. If something is meant for you, it won’t pass you by.
“I’m sorry, David, but I don’t want that to give me more of a leg up compared to the others,” I tell him immediately. “I want to be hired if I deserve to be hired. I don’t want other people overwriting your judgement of me, especially people I’m related to and who are very highly respected in this industry.
“I get that you like that they have come and discussed this with you and that you know my family very well because of the industry you’re in, but frankly, I’m not sure how they found out.” I try to think about how my family managed to know this; nothing comes up. “I kept this piece of news to myself, but I’ve never worked with either of my brothers or my dad. Sure, my dad got me an internship, but I’ve never directly worked with him, so they don’t really know how good or bad I am.
“I appreciate them vouching for me, but I want my work to get me the job and not on the fact that I’m a Steel or that I know people in this industry. If I’m good enough, then I should get the job. If I’m not, then I shouldn’t.” I’ve always been fair. It is both the best and the worst thing about me. Being this way, I’ve missed so many opportunities but have also gotten some too. Being a Steel has set me up in life, but I also want to make it on my own. I work hard, and I want people to recognize that. “I know I don’t have much experience in this industry, but I’m willing to start at the bottom and work my way up,” I promise.
The three interviewers nod appreciatively with my closing statement to the interview. I’ve either nailed or blown it, but either way, I was truthful in what I said.
“That’s good to know, Ms. Steel. We appreciate the honesty.” The woman from Hunan resources nods with a gentle smile on her red lips. “If you wouldn’t mind, we’d like to show you our state of the art facilities for the conclusion of this interview. We’d like to show you what it would be like to work with us . . . if given the chance.” She chuckles, remembering what I had just said.
I smile along with them, but I’m nervous about the decision. It feels like the opportunity has passed me by. I was honest, and if there is someone more deserving of this position, so be it, but I can’t deny the sting I feel in my chest when I said it. It’s the truth, but the truth hurts. Maybe I’m not good enough for the position right now. In time, though, I might be.
“I’d love to see the facilities.” I nod in agreement and remove my bag from the floor at my feet and follow the team out of the room.
“Don’t worry, the interview is over. You can now breathe.” The older man of the group chuckles beside me as he holds his black leather-bound notebook in the crevice of his arm. Holding the door open for me, I walk by him and send him an appreciative smile, knowing all too well the interview isn’t over until I leave this stadium.
“The team will be in the middle of practice, so Coach Stanford will be in full focus. Such a fantastic coach . . . well, your father would be the best of the best, but Stanford is on his way.” They all agree with the lead interviewer’s opinion of the Chargers’ coach that has been around for almost four years. Originally, he was the Miami Dolphins’ head coach, but he decided to leave the team due to discrepancies about salary payment and team delivery. The Chargers saw some potential in him and got him as soon as possible. He’s a young coach and is good for his age, but he has a long way to go and a lot to prove to the world.
They push open a door, and I can hear the sound of music pumping through the next room with some chatters and laughing sprinkled in. When the next door is held open, I’m greeted with the sight of half-naked team members. I can feel my cheeks begin to heat up with embarrassment, like I’ve been caught spying on them. I don’t even know where to look.
At their faces,I instruct myself.
“Please.” The older man directs me through the door, allowing me to walk inside.
Nobody has noticed our entrance until I spot my brother with his headphones on and in the zone, midworkout with his the team’s weight trainer. His face is bright red due to the intensity he’s putting himself through, but still very focused nonetheless. Chris has always been serious about his game.
“Thank you,” I say as I pass through the threshold and walk deeper into the room.
They all continue with their work, and I’m glad of it. I’m still invisible; it’s what I’m comfortable with now.
“This is the main floor of the workout center for the team. We like to have it here; it’s next to the clinic we have where they can be treated for any injuries they pick up during training or game day. Usually, they start with work in here and then go down to the field at a later stage when its not too hot in the day and they can give it their all. We have been catering for them with the highest nutritional value we can get in the state, and they have individual programs that they are expected to take home and continue with during the season, but you probably already know all of this,” the woman says as she animatedly explains their system. It’s pretty much the same as any other team in the league; it's what my brothers have to go through on a daily basis.
