“Do we want to let them know they are competing for the same job?” I asked. “Let’s bring in Tommy and then if he’s not the right fit, we’ll invite Grayson.” My voice sounded calm even though my anxiety was threatening to explode.

“I’ll give him a call right now,” Jamal said. He gathered his things and stopped to look at me. “I’m glad you’re a part of our team, McCoy. I feel like with you here, we’re already improving.”

“Thank you. My goal is the same as everyone else’s. I want to win games and make the Cheetahs a formidable team,” I said. It sounded rehearsed but I meant it. I also wanted to prove that women could do this job, too. I knew everything about football. When I had the opportunity seven years ago to intern at the NFL, I jumped at the chance. It was the opportunity of a lifetime. Women in the NFL weren’t popular, but I was more than willing to fight my way to the top and prove to the world that I was just as capable.

“I’m glad you are here, too,” Joe said.

My initial conversation with Joe wasn’t warm. He believed in old-school football where men were players and coaches, and women were cheerleaders or wives. He refused to shake my hand when we first met and quizzed me on stats of certain players, coaches, and the league. After fifteen minutes of grilling me and me getting every single answer right, he warmed up. By the end of the interview, we were laughing about incredible football games from before I was born.

“Thanks, Joe. I’m happy to be here,” I said.

“How about we head outside and see what the team is doing?” Brandon asked.

“I’m in.” I jumped up and followed Joe and Brandon out to the field. The Cheetahs had a new stadium, but the training facility and office building needed work. The tax increase on the ballot this fall would give us money for a new office complex. Right now, everything was a Band-Aid, from the fresh paint in our old offices to the hodgepodge equipment room full of secondhand weights and core strengthening machines. For now, training camp was on location, but that would change. Next year we were contracted with a college about two hours away.

“What do you think of the stadium?” Joe asked.

We stood on the fifty-yard-line and looked around. “This is top notch.” It was impressive.

“We’ll get an upgrade for next season on the rest,” he said.

Jamal waved a rolled-up wad of paper he had in his hand to get our attention and jogged over to us. “Colvin is out, but Moats will be here tonight. I’ve made reservations at the steakhouse for all of us.” He turned to me. “You’re good with that, right?”