Page 1 of Provoking the Punter
CHAPTER
ONE
The Copperheads have traded punter Garrett Stevens for a fourth-round pick to the Austin Troopers, three days before the trade deadline. Officially, it’s because he failed to gel with the team in the way they’d hoped. So now the speculation about the real reason begins with the Troopers having two punters on their roster, with ten-year veteran Patrick James in his final year of contract. Whatever the real reason behind the trade, Stevens will need to do more than gel to avoid being cut. What do you guys think of Stevens, James, and the trade?
Kingsley Black—The Draft
You’ve been traded.
The words had been bouncing around Garrett’s head for the last thirty-four hours, turning his thoughts to jelly until there was nothing else. From the moment the team manager and head coach of the Copperheads called him to his office, he’d known he was cooked.
No. From the moment he’d walked into the motel room after a couple of drinks to celebrate his birthday, he’d been done.
It hadn’t mattered what happened after that. He’d been waiting for something to happen.
You’ve got forty-eight hours.
A year and a half of playing with the team meant nothing.
After the meeting, he’d crammed everything into his car and canceled the lease on his apartment, though he still owed a month’s rent. The furniture had come with the place, so at least he didn’t have to worry about moving anything but himself and his car. And getting to the new facility by three o’clock for a meeting with the head coach of the Troopers. No doubt there would be a bunch of other people there.
He didn’t know what he was doing.
He swallowed and blinked.
Coach had shaken his hand as if nothing had happened. Nothing had fucking happened.
All the best.
He had over twenty unread texts on his phone and a dozen missed calls. He’d deal with them soon. There was only one call he’d taken, and that was from his agent who’d relayed the Troopers’ schedule, as well as supplied him with all the necessary contact details for his new team.
He hoped the drive and listening to an audiobook filled with gay werewolves with unrealistic problems would be enough of a distraction. It wasn’t. His stomach was set on spin and had roped his mind in for the occasion.
Nearly six hours later, he was crossing the Austin city line. He’d left early because he didn’t want to be late. That was not the first impression he wanted to make. He glanced in the rearview mirror, but the view out the rear window was blocked by all of his things. He noted the time and breathed a sigh of relief. With an hour to spare, he went to the hotel. Unpacking would keep him busy, along with taking a shower and changing his shirt, because despite the air conditioning he was sweating worse than at summer training camp.
He glanced at the clock again.
If he didn’t stop to think, he could push through, maybe even convince himself it was a good thing because staying would have been awkward at best.
He kept his voice low as he checked in, but that didn’t stop him from wondering if people were watching him. If they recognized him. Usually, he went unnoticed. He doubted even hard-core Copperheads fans recognized him without his jersey on.
New jersey, new number.
Here he was a no one.
“Do you know how long you’ll be staying?” The woman behind the counter asked.
Garrett shook his head. He should look for another furnished apartment, but he had no idea how long he was going to be in Austin. They might decide to cut him in a couple of weeks. He might survive the rest of the season, only to be cut before the start of the next one.
His stomach bounced into his throat and his skin became hot and tight, as if he was about to be sick. He needed to keep it together for a little longer.
He needed to make it through the meeting and make a good impression.
“Do you have a long-term rate? Monthly?”
“I’ll have my manager contact you.” She confirmed his phone number.
He needed to start answering calls.