Page 66 of Going for Two

“Mr. Martinez,” I replied cautiously, feeling like I was wandering into a conversation that I wasn’t prepared for.

“How are you feeling for today’s game?”

“Ready to get the Bobcat Nation a win.” The reply slipped out of my mouth like the rehearsed answer of a politician rather than something I’d say.

“Good, good.” Gary nodded his head as if he wouldn’t have cared if I’d told him I was about to throw the game because he was clearly on a mission for something else entirely. “Listen, I wanted to add something else to our offer to you for coming back next year.”

My stomach sank when I realized where this conversation was going. I could honestly say I hadn’t given the offer much thought these past few weeks. I’d been perfectly content with my decision to be done after this season and move into coaching. But a selfish piece of myself anxiously awaited his offer.

“We think we can give you about ten million more dollars to your contract for just next year if you come back.”

I had to fight to keep my jaw from hitting the floor.

“Oh, sir. I’m not sure—”

Gary cut me off, waving his hands around. “Please don’t answer me right now. Really think on it.”

Before I could say anything else, Gary slipped away into the crowd of fans that lined the hallway leading toward the locker room.

I dressed into my warmup clothes in a complete fog as I thought about Gary’s offer. I never thought I could be swayed by money, but for some reason all my previous conviction over my decision was slowly slipping away.

Lottie was preparing the training room for me and Derek when I walked in, my mind still heavy with Gary’s offer.

“Hey!” Her brilliant smile was the only thing that managed to pull me out of my own head.

I hadn’t seen her yet today. She had made the executive decision the night before that we should sleep at our own places solely because we still weren’t getting much sleep when we stayed with each other, and she didn’t want to be the reason that I wasn’t prepared for today’s game.

Lottie pulled a heating pack out for me and met me at one of the training beds. “How are you feeling?”

“Rested and ready for today,” I told her because that was how I had felt up until thirty minutes ago. I had mentally prepared myself on the ride over to the stadium and had felt ready to take on the Dallas Hogs, a lower-ranking team in this year’s playoffs. But teams like that were typically the ones that snuck up on you after you wrote them off as a win before the game was even played.

“Anything feeling sore or that you want to put extra attention on?” Lottie asked me, slipping right into her physical therapy mind. “I want to go through all of the exercises for your knee still, but if there’s anything else, we can also do that.”

I tried to stay present as I worked through the exercises with Lottie, but all I could think about was how long she’d held out on pursuing anything with me to keep things professional.

How would she feel if I decided to play another year?

Should I tell her now?

Would she understand?

“I’m so sorry if you are trying to get in the zone,” Lottie said, bringing me back out of my thoughts. “I just want you to do these last few exercises to wake up your stabilizer muscles and then you can head out to the field to get some throws in.”

Lottie kept her distance because she thought I was trying to focus for the game. She had no idea about the mental interrogation I was giving myself.

The line of questioning switched from any concern I had about how Lottie would take it if I decided to return for one last year to if I wasactuallyready to give this up the second I stepped out of the tunnel and onto the field.

The stadium was nearly already full, and the place erupted in cheers as I walked out—a hero’s welcome.

Am I really ready for this to end?

“How are you feeling?” I turned to see Caleb standing next to me, his eyes wide with awe as he took in our stadium like it was the first time.

“I’m good. How are you doing with all of this?” I asked him, gesturing to the increase in media and the higher energy levels.

“It feels like I’m riding some sort of high,” he told me with his eyes still scanning the stadium. “I’m sure this is old news to you having done this so many times.”

I shook my head. “It never gets old.”