Page 14 of Coach Sully
“So, what, you only want me as the coach if I do the show?”
“We want you as coach regardless,” Whit interrupts. He seems as annoyed as I am about this whole ordeal. “However, we need to align with the prospective sponsor. Which means you’ll have to commit to the show.”
Someone from the Lakes staff speaks up. “The PWHL will be receiving some help from the NHL. We’ll assist with the start-up, but the Rogues need their own funding.”
A PWHL staffer adds, “MNSports is the highest sponsor, and we want to keep it that way.”
Of course. It always comes down to money. The more money a team has, the more resources they have. The more resources, the better odds of a team’s success and a higher return on investment for owners and shareholders. It’s not about whether they want me.
I’m a bargaining chip. If I say yes, I get my dream job and earn the team a sponsor with a lot of money. If I say no, I’m not only giving up my dream, I’ll be costing the women’s team their highest paid sponsor. I’ll fuck over an entire PWHL organization.
“I’m here because I want to coach. I’m not the nextBachelorreality star.”
The Vault Productions bro in the corner sighs as if he’s annoyed with me. “Actually, you are. You’re not just a player. You’re the retired captain that women fall over. You’ve got a good record, you’re likable. You’re intriguing because you stay under the radar, but you’ve thrown enough punches on the ice to show you don’t fuck around. It’s a winning combination for viewership. You check all the boxes.” He leans back in his chair and pulls out his phone as if he’s bored. Guy’s a dick.
“We want you as the coach, Sully. That’s why I called,” Whit adds. It makes me feel a little better that I’m not the only one who thinks this is asinine.
“And if I say no to the show?”
The jerk in the corner opens his mouth. “Then we will consider different candidates. Someone who can handle the show and being head coach.” Whit glares at the guy from across the room.Is this legal?
“Just to be clear, we all know this is bullshit, right?” I say. The room responds with silence. Unreal. “Surely there’s another hockey player out there that would be better for the show?”
“Perhaps a former Lakes player?” my lawyer suggests.
Douche-bro speaks up without glancing up from his phone. “There are better options, unfortunately, they’re all married. We prefer to have someone single who can add more interest for our female viewership. It’s not just some hockey team documentary.” I don’t like this guy.
Shit.
“Was this the plan all along? Kendra never mentioned any of this.” Was this her backup plan? What the fuck, Kendra? How could you not tell me?
“This is a new development. Kendra wasn’t informed of the network’s involvement as a sponsor until yesterday.” Her text…I’ve got to step into a meeting. Talk later.She was just asblindsided as me. That’s why she stopped communicating with me. I feel like a dick for blaming her.
Fuck. I want this coaching position. The first pro women’s team in Minnesota. This is huge. It’s history. I also want Kendra, but Kendra isn’t guaranteed.This job is.
“Let’s negotiate the terms.”
My lawyer interrupts. “The salary request we submitted is now void, and we’ll be resubmitting a new number based on the information learned today.”
I nod. Then I point at the guy in the corner with a smug look on his face. “Is he the producer?”
One of the executives nod back. So Kendra also got fucked out of the job she wanted. “No. I want Kendra to stay on as the producer.”
The guy in the corner sits up. “With all due respect, she’s not experienced enough for a docuseries.”
I lean forward in my chair in his direction and look him in the eye. “I don’t like you.”
Next to me, Nick clears his throat. “…Respectfully,” he tacks on.
“She’s the only one I’m willing to work with,” I say.
The producer opens his mouth to retort, but one of the executives—I think his name is Pierce—cuts him off before he can get a word out. “We can reinstate Kendra as a coproducer. She can be the only producer that you have to interact with, but Jeremy will remain on as the senior producer.”
Right. Jeremy Bowers. What a dick.
She’s still my endgame, even if I have to do this stupid six-month song and dance with the network first. The managers and execs look at each other before returning their gazes to me. Nick makes notes in my peripheral.
I glance over to Whit; we’ve had parallel careers with similar goals. I respect him and know he’ll make a terrific GM. Everything is perfect… except for the show.