“Too bad your dog isn’t a cat. Then we’d have a real mascot.” Jamal pointed to the new mascot, Champ the Cheetah, across the field who was taking selfies with the fans who showed up for training camp. People paid good money to be here and watch the new team in action. Some were curious about the Cheetahs, and some were here because of the veterans like Grayson and tackle Jeremy Pickles. It felt like a circus.

“I’m headed in for the press conference.” I checked my watch for the thousandth time. “Wrap up practice. It’s getting hot and we need to review the film.”

He nodded and blew his whistle. I jogged back to the offices and took a moment to look presentable. I shut the door to my office and slipped into a fresh polo and pressed khakis. My tan hid the dark circles from lack of sleep. I added a bit of makeup and brushed my hair. Bill knocked a second before I opened the door.

“You ready?”

“Yes, sir.” I matched his stride and we walked into the press room with confidence. It was right there with me until I saw a hundred people with lanyards and cameras around their necks, then it disappeared. The room went from loud chatter to instant quiet when I stood behind Bill.

“Please meet Sutton McCoy, the Cheetahs’ offensive coordinator. Let’s take it easy this first go-round.” Bill stepped back and allowed me to adjust the microphone. I was a few inches taller.

I cleared my throat. “Hello.” Hands shot up like a roomful of sixth graders waving to get my attention. Some even called out my name. I didn’t know a single person in the room. Did I call them out by what they were wearing? Plaid shirt guy with thick glasses? Woman wearing the hideously bright green dress? Dude who still looked like he was in high school with his baby face and swooping bangs?

“Les,” Bill’s voice boomed out, alleviating the stress of who to call on first.

A man with a receding hairline wearing a navy polo stood. “Coach McCoy, Lester Moore from ESPN. How has the reception been as the newest coach for the Cheetahs?”

Easy question. I put on a sweet smile and answered him honestly. “The reception has been warm and inviting. I get along well with the other coaches and the players take my advice. It’s been a very positive experience. It was a fight to get here, but well worth it.”

“A fight to get here? What do you mean?”

First question and I already fucked up. “When you have several people vying for the same job, it gets a little stressful when you are waiting for the call.” He sat down satisfied with the answer when more people raised their hands to be next. I knew eventually I would learn all their names, but in the meantime, Bill barked out names.

“Maria.”