Human resources director Selma Andrews opened the door to a decent-sized office with neutral tones and sparse furnishings. The smell of fresh paint assaulted me and I had to blink back tears. I was worried the strong scent would cause vertigo. I breathed through my mouth, hoping standing here wasn’t killing valuable brain cells.

“Since the windows don’t open, it’s hard to get the smell out. I’ll have maintenance bring over fans,” she said. She stepped aside.

“Thank you.” I ran my hand over the top of my desk before gently dropping a box of personal items I lugged from the parking lot about a quarter mile away to my new office. The surface of the desk was scratched and slightly dented, but sturdy. I felt it was a good representation of my journey to get to this point. Here I was, day one of being the offensive coordinator for the Connecticut Cheetahs, carrying a box full of notebooks and plays that I knew were going to be beneficial to the NFL expansion team. I was instructed to be here before seven, but judging from the hustle around me, six forty-five was late.

Bill Tatum, head coach for the Cheetahs, stuck his head in the open door. “McCoy, you’re with me.” He motioned me over, completely ignoring Selma who stood awkwardly in the space between us.

She stiffened at his rudeness. She wished me a good first day and turned on her heel. I gave her a soft smile, hoping it helped. I knew that some men didn’t like women invading their territory, but I’d been in the minority my entire life. The things that men have said to me would have made their mothers cry, knowing their sons used such foul language. I wore a suit of armor made of bitter barbs and scars of verbal abuse over the years.

Going into this new endeavor, I was ready for cutting words. Instead, I was greeted with professionalism. I was working as the Vikings’ quarterback coach when the Cheetahs offered me their offensive coordinator position. Their former offensive coordinator was caught on video sexually assaulting a woman at a bar one night. I’d like to think I was hired for my abilities, but I knew I was the token hire. The new team needed a fresh start and I was a woman who filled their résumé demands. It made the team look progressive and it directed the negative attention into something positive.

“Yes, Coach?” I asked.

He smiled at me. “Call me Bill. There’s a team meeting at seven thirty with everyone. We’ll break into position meetings after that. We have a lot to cover. Offense is looking at quarterbacks. Myers tore his ACL so we’re looking at other options.”