Page 129 of Nanny for the Athletes

There was no worse feeling than watching someone you loved struggle. Especially when that struggle was public, in front of eighty thousand fans—and millions more on television. The crowd stirred restlessly; I heard complaints and unhappy murmurs all around me. This was a terrible way to end the season.

It’ll be up to me to cheer them up tonight. A good partner lifts you up when you’re down.

But on third and long, Christian surprised me and everyone else in the stadium. He dropped back to pass the ball, then tucked it under one arm and began sprinting upfield. He dodged one tackle, then hurdled another defender before finally being taken down—after crossing the first down line. A small cheer went up among the crowd.

Then, on the next play, Christian hit Braden on a long pass. The tall wide receiver stiff-armed his opponent, then glided into the end zone for a touchdown.

“No trade!” a few fans began to chant again. “No trade! No trade!”

“No trade!” Claire joined in, not understanding what it meant. “No trade! No trade!”

Despite falling into an early deficit, the Colts played well from that point on. Christian threw another touchdown pass in the first quarter, then another in the second quarter. He and Braden were perfectly in sync in the third quarter, throwing two more touchdown passes between them.

After every touchdown, the crowd chants grew louder. “No trade! No trade!No trade!”Even Logan and I were joining in, cupping our hands around our mouths and shouting as loud as we could. The momentum built throughout the game, until every fan was on their feet and screaming until they were hoarse.

Even when the Titans had the ball in the fourth quarter, the chants didn’t end. They were constant, now. The gathered fans were of one mind, one voice on this day. After a while, I stood back and observed it all. It was awe-inspiring to hear so many people chanting the same thing at the same time. The fans thumped, wept, and chanted for our Colts, and specifically for Christian Baker and Braden Clark. If this was to be their last game playing in this city, they were going to make their unhappiness known.

“NO TRADE!” they roared. “NO TRADE! NO TRADE!”

When the Titans had to punt the ball, and Christian took the field one last time with five minutes remaining on the clock, the frenzy reached its climax. Traditionally, home fans remained quiet when their own team had the ball, to allow the quarterback to communicate the play to the other players. The Colts fans observed no such courtesy this day. The noise in that packed stadium passed beyond excitement into a kind of immense open anguish, a wailing, a cry to be saved. The chant that had started it all ebbed and flowed among the chaotic noise, until it became a back-and-forth. When one half of the stadium screamed “NO,” the other half shouted “TRADE.” The power of it built, a kind of auditory rocking, until it felt like even the stadium foundation was being shaken to its core.

“NO”

“TRADE”

“NO”

“TRADE”

“NO”

“TRADE”

Logan’s phone was the first one to buzz with a news alert, but soon others around us began to chime. One by one, the fans around us checked their phones and excitedly nudged one-another. The chant that had hijacked the game faded away, and was replaced by one of pure joy.

“What happened?” I asked.

“Look!” Logan held his phone up to me. It was zoomed out on a news article, but the headline was large enough for me to read:

COLTS OWNER: Team is committed to winning. Won’t trade any key players this off-season.

“Does that mean what I think it means?” I asked.

Logan nodded, grinning more widely than I had ever seen the man.

I had resigned myself to the likelihood that two of my boyfriends were going to be gone this time next year, and that our relationship might be a casualty of their absence. Suddenly finding out that they were staying was a strange sensation. Like discovering that Christmas wasn’t canceled after all, and not only that, but Santa was coming down the chimneyright that momentwith a sack of presents to hand out.

I squealed and threw myself into Logan’s arms, although my cry was drowned out by a thousand other voices all around me, equally ecstatic.

Claire was tugging on my shirt. “What’s happening? They haven’t scored yet.”

“Uncle Chrissy and Uncle Braden are staying!” I explained. “They’re going to be on the same team next year!”

“They’re not going away?”

“Nope!” Logan said. “We’re stuck with them.”

A huge grin spread across Claire’s face, and then she clung to me in a tight hug. I put my hand on the back of her head and savored the feeling.

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