“And then of course there’s the Jets, right?” Rich was from New York and a big Jets fan and I’d ribbed him about it endlessly. Every few years the Jets showed a few signs they were a serious team, then inevitably they’d collapse and leave each of their fans tearing their hair out wondering where they’d gone wrong.
Rich didn’t have much hair left as it was, so he couldn’t afford to act like a regular Jets fan. Still, I had heard that being in the media and covering football for so long made it easy to forget your childhood team allegiance.
Me, I had never really had an allegiance to a particular team. Football was just something I was good at, and that was all the allegiance I needed. My teammates and coaches didn’t seem to mind as long as I showed up to practice and showed up to the games. I liked it that way, kept things simple.
“Right, Right,” Rich said, the smile disappearing. ‘Listen, Drake, what’re you -“
I cut him off in mid sentence. “I gotta go, Rich, things getting started soon, and I gotta get in my spot, you know?”
Rich just stared at me, his mouth moving but the words not coming out. I had never seen Rich at a loss for words before - this was actually really funny, and I wish I had had more time to stop and appreciate it. I didn’t, though; it was getting to be game time and I had somewhere else to be.
“Ye-yeah, Drake, you gotta get moving,” Rich finally spoke when he found the right words. “I hope you have a good day today.”
I flashed him my biggest smile. “Of course I will, Rich, it’s draft day! This is just the beginning.”
“Yeah. Good luck.” This time Rich was much shorter with me. I wonder what had gotten into him? Usually he was always good for some joking around, even during 20 or 30 second breaks from doing TV. The man was a pro and really good at holding his composure. He’d been covering the draft for the league’s own TV network for years now, so I really didn’t know what had spooked him like that.
Oh well, to each their own. I shook Rich’s hand and kept moving toward the green room. Along the way I ran into a few more reporters gathered around talking shop. I checked my watch; I had about 60 seconds to kill before I really needed to get a move on, so I clapped one them on the shoulder and joined in the group.
“What’s the good word, fellas?” I broke in, showing off just how jazzed I was to be there.
“Oh, hey, Drake,” one of them replied, a look of confusion on his face. The rest of them were silent.
I got a weird vibe from the whole thing and decided to make my exit. “Just wanted to say hi, guys, happy draft day and all, I’ll see you after the festivities. Be sure and get my good side when that phone call shot comes up, yeah?” I laughed as I walked away. “Oh yeah, both sides are my good side!”
It was good to be on top. Those guys must have just been a little surprised to see me in their huddle so close to the draft. They probably figured I’d be in the green room already. I was Drake Rollins, though, I still had time to kiss babies and glad hand the common folk. I would never give that up - my adoring public needed me.
As I walked away from them I heard them talk about me. That was more like it.
I checked my watch again, and I needed to book it to get to the green room entrance before the cutoff. The league liked to keep things running as efficiently as possible especially on draft day, and I wasn’t about to be the loose cog that slowed everything down. That was no way for one of the league’s soon-to-be-biggest stars to start his career off, was it?
Everyone was acting a little strange around me, and I didn’t know why. I tried to shrug it off as best I could as I walked towards the green room, but there was a voice in the back of my head I was telling me that something was wrong. And it wouldn’t go away, no matter how hard I tried to silence it.
The green room entrance was a regular double door, with two security guards standing in front of it. Big guys, bigger than me. Guys that could play on the offensive or defensive line, and probably had in high school and college. They each had earpieces in, and wore suits.
I rolled up, gave them the Drake Rollins smile. “Drake Rollins, here for the draft. Let’s get our green room on.” I waited for them to open the door.
The security guards cocked their heads to the side, and each one of them put a finger to their ear piece, as if pressing it into here better above loud noise of the crowd in the huge hall. They listened for a few moments, and I tapped my foot against the floor. I didn’t have time for this. I need to be inside there with the cameras and the lights, so that people around the world could put a face to the name.