Page 4 of Nanny for the Athletes

“I’m pissed because I paid for these nice seats and you’re spending the entire time chatting with the lesbians next to us.”

“We talked like twice,” I said defensively. “And it wasn’t even during the game. It was in between periods.”

Trip shrugged.

He’s just in one of his moods, I thought, sitting back in my seat and thinking about the two women. If it panned out, it would be the jump-start my business desperately needed.

This day turned out so much better than I expected.

2

Christian

This day turned out so much worse than I expected.

It was Sunday night, and Braden and I were sitting on the couch in my apartment in downtown St. Louis. There were a lot of things I didn’t like about having my job move from Indianapolis to St. Louis, but my new place was one of the positives. I loved the high ceilings, exposed brick, and industrial elements like steel beams and the tall windows that offered a breathtaking view of the city skyline and the gateway arch beyond.

But even the comfort of my loft couldn’t calm me down on this Sunday night. Especially having to listen to the ESPN broadcasters discussing the games of the day.

“…third-largest loss in franchise history,” the broadcaster was saying in a tone of surprise and disgust. “The only blowouts worse than the Colts 63 to 10 loss today were the 1962 Baltimore Colts loss to the Chicago Bears by 57 points, and the 2011 Indianapolis Colts loss to the New Orleans Saints by 55. Today’s defeat, paired with the team’s 0 - 4 start to the season, have many wondering if this is karma for the franchise changing cities yet again.”

On the couch next to me, Braden let out a curse. “I don’t know why they’re blaming us, the players. It’s not likewechose to move the team to St. Louis.”

“I don’t know.”

“Besides, St. Louis got screwed ten years ago when the Rams moved to Los Angeles. This city deserves a team way more than Indianapolis.”

“Yup.”

On TV, one of the other talking heads was saying, “There’s so much about the move that doesn’t make sense, Scott. Even the team colors are a head-scratcher. Orange and white? That doesn’t line up with the past NFL franchises in the city. And the colors don’t even coordinate with the other St. Louis teams, like the Blues and Cardinals.”

“The players don’t seem to have the same fire, either,” the first broadcaster agreed. “Quarterback Christian Baker looked strong early in the game, but in the second half he seemed like he was just going through the motions without caring. And then—”

I switched over to the baseball channel. They were showing highlights from the Cardinals playoff game. “At least one city team is doing well,” I muttered.

“Man, the fans are ruthless,” Braden said, scrolling social media on his phone. “They’re joking about sending us back to Indiana. One guy wrote…” Braden chuckled and shook his head. “Let’s just say it’s an off-color joke about aborting the team before we reach full term.”

My German Shepherd, Heidi, jumped onto the couch and laid down with her head in my lap. I scratched her behind the ear and said, “Don’t doomscroll social media. Especially after a loss.”

Seeing Heidi jump up on the couch, Braden’s dog Pickles climbed up too. There wasn’t much room, so she was half-sitting on Heidi, who ignored her with the impassivity of a saint.

“I can’t help it! I want to connect with the fans,” Braden argued while continuing to read his phone. “The fans are the reason we’re even paid to play this sport. I don’t want to just pretend they don’t exist.”

I shook my head, but said nothing. It wasn’t worth arguing with Braden. He was my best friend, and my top wide receiver on the field, but he could be an airhead sometimes.

Okay, he was an airheadallof the time. He was like the human manifestation of his Golden Retriever. But that’s one of the things I loved about him.

“It’s days like today when I miss her the most,” Braden said softly.

The change of subject caught me off guard. “Yeah. Me too.” The pain was still fresh, like a piece of glass rolling around inside my heart, causing new wounds every time I moved.

In my lap, Heidi let out a long sigh through her snout. “I know you miss her too,” I whispered. Out of all the women who had come and gone in my life, she was the only one Heidi liked. It made me wonder if things would have been different if the team hadn’t moved to St. Louis.

The front door to my loft opened and Logan, Braden’s brother-in-law, came striding in with two boxes of pizza. “Food,” he barked, reinforcing his reputation for short sentences. His auburn hair was damp and slicked back, and his left eye socket was a gnarly shade of purple and black.

“Ohhell yeah. I’m starving.” Braden twisted and jumped over the back of the couch to meet Logan at the door, opening the top pizza box and immediately shoving a slice in his mouth. “Nice shiner,” he said while chewing.

Logan sneered. “You should see the other guy.” Pickles and Heidi went trotting over to say hi to Logan. He looked at them and snarled, “Why does he get to bring his dog to pizza night?”

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