Page 4 of Provoking the Punter

“What was the problem with the Copperheads? Your agent assured us that there wouldn’t be any pending assault charges or an inquiry.” Ross cut straight to the point.

“He was correct. I’d been out to celebrate my birthday. It was a verbal disagreement that happened off the field and had nothing to do with football.” The only thing he’d said was that he’d just arrived. He still had his fucking pants on.

He was being punished for something that hadn’t even happened.

While his former coach didn’t consider sleeping with men cheating on his wife, she’d had a different opinion. She thought they were having an affair.

He wasn’t that fucking stupid.

And he’d done his share of dumb shit…

Ross stroked his chin. “Yet it was enough for them to trade you when your stats for this season put you in the top half of punters.”

His ass was scraping into the top sixteen. One touchback, or too many yards returned, and he was in the bottom half. Again. That was where he spent last season. But people expected rookies to fumble under pressure. He didn’t have that grace any more. He should know what he was doing.

He took a deep breath and exhaled slowly. He could not tell them the real reason. If he told them he was gay, and that was the problem between him and the coach?

It would be a lie.

And it might also be a problem here.

Then he’d be cut. Oliveira could get his additional defensive back.

And Garrett would be lucky to get a contract because there was always someone else hungry for his job. Someone who didn’t have Trouble stamped on his forehead.

“Like I said, alcohol was involved, and it didn’t go down too well. I’ve given up drinking.” Did they think he’d turned up to training drunk? He wasn’t that stupid.

“You’re fast on your feet and not afraid to take a tackle,” Oliveira said, eyeing him up, as if he was some strange beast that needed closer inspection.

Garrett knew exactly which game Oliveira was referring to.

“I couldn’t let him get through with the ball.” Somehow the other team’s punt returner had slipped through. Garrett had acted on instinct from playing years of Aussie rules and run at him. “If I’d kicked better, he wouldn’t have got the ball.”

He re-watched that footage many times. There were at least three other places where that play had fallen apart. It wasn’t just him.

Coach Ross laughed. “It was raining so hard I’m surprised he caught the ball in the first place.”

The rain hadn’t helped.

“I played plenty of Australian football in the rain, sir.” They were bittersweet memories that he pushed aside to deal with later. He couldn’t. Not today.

Breathe in, breathe out.

Was anyone going to address the elephant in the room named Patrick James?

“While you are settling in this week,” Caitlin interjected, “I’ve scheduled a couple of PR opportunities. One is a simple intro video for our social media. And all of our new players attend a fundraising dinner. We find it’s a good first impression for players to make, and it gives fans the chance to meet you. I’ll confirm the date and time and let you know.”

“Thank you.” He hated PR, but it was part of the show. Personally, he’d much rather hand over a chunk of money and remain invisible.

“Do you have any questions?” Oliviera asked.

Garrett glanced at Ross, then swallowed. “Most teams don’t carry two punters. I know James is a ten-year veteran, and his contract is up for renewal at the end of this season.” He’d also spent a couple of weeks out injured last season and his stats were in the bottom half. Garrett hoped that meant his foot was in the door.

Ross nodded, his expression going cold. “Correct. I look forward to seeing you train.”

That was a non-answer if ever Garrett had heard one. He also knew there was no such thing as a guarantee. If he didn’t impress, he wouldn’t get the spot. If James didn’t impress, he wouldn’t have his contract renewed.

There was always someone younger and hungrier.