Page 5 of Chasing Headlines
“And baseball.”
She paused and glanced up at me. “Right. So, what, you want to be a sports reporter after college?” She moved her hand in a circle.
Oh. I knitted my hands together in my lap. Did I need to say yes to get the job? Probably. I'm sure that makes more sense than:I want to be a baseball scout.Although it's not like there's a formal education requirement to be a scout. Why wouldn't sports-focused journalism be?—
“You're hesitating.” She tapped her pen against her bottom lip.
“Sorry.” I laced my hands together. “I'm not really into other sports, just baseball. I'd be glad to write other news articles, though.” I arranged my face into a smile. I remembered the email exchange where Mrs. P mentioned that sports reporters still had to write the occasional article for the university paper.
She frowned. “I don't usually give a sports beat to one person. For various reasons.”
“Like what?” I pressed my lips together.Not too pushy. Don't seem overeager.
“One person can't be flexible. Have a weekend off.” She stretched for the oversized plastic cup with the university logo from the far edge of her desk. “On the flip side, they're also more likely to play favorites or present the same perspective week after week. And then there's the interest factor.” She took a sip of her mystery drink.
“Interest factor?” I found the end of my ponytail in my palm. I dropped it and refolded my hands into my lap. “Like people get bored just reporting on the same sport or something?” I frowned. “I promise you, Mrs. P, there’s no way I'd lose interest. Not in baseball. Can you imagine? Probably have to change my name.” I laughed. She didn't.
Mrs. P raised an eyebrow. “Several sports have a number of students ready to give their right arm for the team beat assignments. Shouldn't surprise you that, at a Texas university, football is king. Then basketball. It might interest you to know that our track 'n field team comes in third. And we have some emerging interest in our esports program.” She ticked off the list on her fingers.
“Esports? Wow. What a—” I swallowed the rest of the words. Let's see, people holding game controllers? Or guys in tightbaseball pants?“I mean that wouldn't have occurred to me. But what about baseball?”
She glanced over the top of her glasses. Hazel eyes absorbed the light in the room, and appeared completely blank. Bored. Irritated?Not good.
“Can't have different policies for different sports.”
“I see.” I gritted my teeth behind closed lips.Dammit.
She gave me a long, hard look. She let out a breath as she sat back in her chair. “I'm happy to give you a tryout. I like the idea of a female perspective from someone who grew up in a baseball family.”
Relief unknotted my stomach, lightening the heavy pit of anxiety churning inside. I nodded, but didn’t dare smile.Game face.
“But it's not baseball season until next semester.”
What? But there's baseball practice, now. Well, not now-now, but late this afternoon, a few hours from now. First day of freshman baseball camp.Gotta be there.
“So, there's no reason to assign you to the beat right away. Every fall starts off the same way. The journalism department offers signups on a series of projects, and all these interested students wanting to be reporters volunteer. And yet somehow . . .”
Oh no. No no no. I needed to be at baseball practices. This was prime scouting time, getting a sense of the team, who would make the roster. Coach Schorr was notoriously focused, didn't tolerate distractions.
And ignored my emails all summer long.
“. . . schedule drops, the not-so-glamourous life of the real work of reporting?—”
“Whatever you need. I'm here to help. Just, well, thereisan exhibition game this semester.” I tapped my palms together and held them up to my chin.
“In November.” Her tone dropped.
Yeah, this wasn't going well.
“Tell you what? That game can be your tryout. If it'll keep you happy and around.” She grabbed her cup and sipped. “But I want the same quality in your non-baseball work. Founders’ Day is a big thing around here. I'd like you to come up with a pitch for our special publication. Comes out in November.”
“Sounds perfect.” I nodded my full agreement. OK, notfullagreement, but hopefully she couldn't tell.Still need an official assignment. Today, lady.
“Great. Sounds like we have an arrangement that works. Any other questions or concerns, Liv?” She tilted her head and her glasses caught the light. This was my opening, my opportunity to make my case.
“I've spent the past two summers interning with the Carolina Sabers' scouting program. And this year, you have somereallytalented players joining the ranks as freshmen.”
A slow nod, another sip and then a sigh. “All right. Go get a sound byte from each of them. Take their picture and we'll run a series of 'get to know them' articles with their hometown and boy band Teen Beat info like, what's their favorite food, jersey number, toothpaste, whatever. It’s softball shit, but?—”