Page 2 of Thoroughly Innocent Intent

“I totally get it.” Everyone wants to enjoy their youth without limits. I was no different. Of course, I’d had a football career and a toddler that kept me from living that way as much as I would’ve liked when I was twenty-five, sort of, but I understand why Hadley would pick her social life over me. What I don’t understand is why that bothers me now when it never has in the past.

“I’ll just grab my things,” Hadley says quietly, letting the sheet fall away from her curves as she picks up her clothes and heads to the bathroom.

I sink onto the bed and rub my face. Maybe I am getting old. I didn’t always pick football over my social life. As a rookie, I juggled both pretty well, to the dismay of my ex-wife, but I’ve grown into a sense of responsibility over the years. Or, more accurately, I learned what my limits are so I can enjoy what life has to offer and still perform on the field. But focusing on a chick during the off season only to have her walk away when I put the party on hold? That’s starting to suck.

Maybe it’s time to give up the younger girls. Not that I ignore women my age or anything, but the younger ones have a reckless edge I find myself drawn to. But bold and daring seems to have an expiration date, and the closer I get to retirement the less that appeals to me.

One day I think I’d like to find someone that will stick around beyond the off season. I have some teammates that have found that, and they seem pretty happy. At the very least, they don’t spend the season alone, the way I typically do, and this past year I felt a little envious of that. I mean, coming home to a silent house and cooking dinner and watching tv alone doesn’t sound as nice as coming home to a cool chick, a hot meal and some time between the sheets. I’m not pining away for that exactly, but it doesn’t sound as bad as it used to.

“I think that’s everything.” Hadley emerges from the bathroom with a small bag of toiletries and clothes she kept here for the times she stayed over.

“Ok. Let me get those for you.” I rise off the bed and take the bag from her, following her through the house to the front door. We may be breaking up, but I’ve never been a dick about these things. She collects her keys and purse from the table by the entry, then we head to her car where I load everything into the back seat. Before she gets in, I pull her to me for a hug.

“Take care of yourself.” I kiss the top of her head.

“You, too.” She squeezes me in return before getting in her car and driving away. I watch her go the same way I’ve watched so many others. Hadley was fun and I was glad to have her company while I did, but now it’s time to get back to work.

I run my hand through my hair and sigh, wondering what to do with myself now that I have the rest of the day free. I could squeeze in a workout, maybe lay by my new pool, and just relax. My daughter Sawyer might enjoy that. She hasn’t been here for a few weeks, and once camp starts, I won’t see much of her.

I reach for my phone to call her just as it starts to vibrate in my pocket. I check the name on the screen and answer right away, hoping for good news.

“Chaser.” I grin.

“Chase,” my agent corrects me tersely. He hates my nickname for him, but he chases more clients than I do skirts, so it fits.

“What’s the word, do I finally get to put this journalism degree to use, or should I concentrate on a coaching spot?”

“Neither, yet. I was thinking we need to beef up your visibility off the field, get you some good press for community involvement, charitable contributions, stuff like that. It would make you a more credible candidate.”

“Is this another way of saying my image needs work?” I may like to have a good time in the off season, but I’ve never been in a fight, been arrested, or gotten into trouble in any way, so if he’s suggesting I’ve got work to do I can’t imagine what for.

“Not exactly. I mean, your dating life is certainly active, but not explicit. I’m talking about the bigger picture. Everyone knows you’re passionate about the game, but they don’t know if you have any passions outside of it. Getting involved in something outside the game will help people understand who you are as a person, maybe even what you bring to the table besides football knowledge.”

“What else do I need besides football knowledge? That’s all commentating and coaching are about.”

“Not true, my friend. Commentators cover the players’ lives and interests, as well as the game. Coaches help drive team involvement in community events and typically do press to help promote those. Having experience with any of those things makes you more credible to fill all aspects of the job, not just the football aspects. And regardless of which path you focus on, you better believe your competition will bring more than just football knowledge to the table.”

I’d never really given it much thought before, but what Chaser says makes a certain amount of sense. There are player exposés that delve into the challenges some of them had to overcome to reach the highest levels, lots of players have foundations they put their name on and raise money for, and teams are always doing stuff to help out--from visiting kids at hospitals to community clean up to skills clinics. I’ve always just shown up where I was told to without considering what went into stuff behind the scenes. Maybe my football knowledge isn’t enough to make me stand out. But it’s all I know.

“I don’t have any passions outside the game, it’s my life.” That never sounded lame before, but now that I’m standing here alone, again, I wonder if it is.

“There has to be something. Animals, fighting cancer, youth sports,” he rattles off ideas.

“I donate money to all those things.”

“Okay, that’s a start. Which of them are you passionate about?”

“Um, I don’t know.” I scratch my jaw. “That’s just stuff the team organizes.”

“Then we need to find you some passions. Give you another dimension. You busy this afternoon?” His tone suggests I’m about to be.

“Not anymore,” I mutter.

“Good. I’m sending you to see a consultant.” I hear the rhythmic click of a keyboard in the background. “She specializes in non-profit organizations. Her parents were missionaries or activists or something, so she’s lived all over and grew up immersed in charitable organizations. She can help.”

“Help with what? I’m not joining the Peace Corps,” I grumble.

“Figuring out what you have an interest in outside football, maybe put together a foundation or some events to draw awareness for a cause you support.” My phone pings with an incoming email.

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