As soon as my new hair is finished, I’m ushered into the office down the hall, where a video chat has already been pulled up. I take a seat behind the wooden desk to see a middle-aged man displayed on the computer screen.

“Hello there,” he says, giving me a friendly smile. “I’m Jerry Lewis. Nice to meet you.”

“It’s nice to meet you too,” I reply. “I’m Vivienne…Rhodes.”

Richard gives me an approving nod from the opposite side of the desk and then exits the room, leaving just Michael with me.

“You’ve been at school in London but are going to college in the States?” Jerry asks.

“That’s right,” I confirm.

“Well, I can understand why you’d want to brush up on your football, then. Hard to escape it in this country, although to be honest, I can’t say I’ve ever really tried to.” He winks, and I smile in response.

Jerry proceeds to recite the same terminology and rules I’ve already read about repeatedly, but he takes the time to draw diagrams and come up with comparisons that make me feel as though I finally have a solid grasp of the basic concepts.

“Any questions?” he asks me at the end.

“Why do you think football is so popular in the States, but no place else?” I wonder, marveling at the complexity of a sport played in only one country rather than around the world like most.

“That’s a good question,” Jerry replies, shrugging. “Wish I knew the answer to it. It seems to just be getting more and more popular here, though.”

“Do you think it’s changed since you played? Why has it become more popular now?”

“More good questions.” Jerry laughs. “You should consider taking some journalism classes in college. But to answer your question, no. I think it’s become less innovative, and I think it’s become more commercialized. Teams look for the quarterback who can throw the farthest, not who’s most inventive. There’s no way I would make it to the professional level these days. I wouldn’t have back in the day if not for the Kamanski technique. It was creativity that mattered then, not just yardage.”

There’s a shout on his end of the call, and he glances to the side before looking back at me apologetically.

“I’m afraid I’ve got to go, Vivienne. Kids are looking for food. I hope this helped, and good luck in school. Think about what I said about journalism. I could make some calls!” He winks, then the screen goes black.

I look at Michael, who’s still sitting across the table. “Did you follow any of that?”

“Parts,” he replies, glancing up from his phone. “I did some research, and I’m pretty certain he was downplaying his talent at the end there. This says he won three football championships with a team called the Ducks. 1998, 2001, and 2002.”

“Well, hopefully this appeases Richard. I think I can pass for an American who doesn’t follow football now, at least,” I joke.