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Tate had yet to meet the new head coach, but the press conference was scheduled to start any minute.
Anxiety bubbled in her chest; she had no idea how Lasso was going to do, and this set the stage for how the season would go.
"Please tell me I haven't missed anything," Tate called as she entered the workout room, where the entire team was scattered throughout. Sam had asked if she wanted to watch the presser with them, and she was more than willing to accept the excuse for leaving her office.
"Nothing yet," Roy Kent, captain of the team, barely glanced over his shoulder behind him as he answered her. If Tate hadn't known him any better, she would have thought that he was indifferent to her. But it was Roy Kent, and the fact that he acknowledged her at all meant that he cared in his own, gruff way.
"Good morning, mon cherie."
"Morning, Richard," Tate rolled her eyes and grinned at the French player, more than accustomed to his playful flirting. During the previous season, she had first thought that Richard was genuinely hitting on her, but after several awkward weeks and a conversation with Sam, she realized that it was just his personality.
"Sit, Tate." Colin called from a bench across the room, close enough to the screen so that she wouldn't miss anything.
"I don't think I can sit still until this conference is over." Tate scrunched up her face, another of her habits that had carried on from childhood. Crossing the room to stand between Roy and Sam, she glanced between the team standing before her. "If this Lasso guy turns out to be a PR disaster, I'm going to have to work my ass off."
Apparently, that seemed like the incorrect thing to say, because the training room instantly broke out in arguments about the new coach's presumed ability. Only a few of the players didn't join in on the bickering; Roy, Sam, and—
Jamie Tartt. Who was too self-involved in watching himself lift weights that he didn't seem to realize what was going on around him.
The sight of her team was amusing, until she glanced to the television and saw Coach Lasso was just stepping behind the press table.
"Roy?" Tate nudged him with her elbow, nodding her head at the television that she couldn't hear over the bickering.
"Oi!" Roy shouted, knowing what Tate was asking of him without her having to say. "If I don't hear silence, I'm going to start punching dicks!"
Tatum could have heard a pin drop in the silence that followed.
"Thank you, captain." She grinned, crossing her arms as she faced the press conference.
Her satisfaction was short-lived. Coach Lasso spit his water across the audio recorders before him, leaving a first impression that she hadn't been expecting.
"Oh, fuck." Tate mumbled. Lasso continued to fumble the interview, clearly on unsure footing as he tried to recover from the water incident.
"Let's just address the elephant in the room," Lasso began, his Kansas accent ringing clear through the television. Tate felt herself chewing on her bottom lip, but she couldn't find it in herself to care. "No, I have never coached the sport that you folks call football at any level. Heck, you could fill two internets with what I don't know about it. But I'll tell you what I do know. I know that AFC Richmond, like every team I've coached, is gonna go out there and give you everything they've got for all four quarters."
"Halves." One reporter corrected Lasso, and Tate wished for the ground to open up and swallow her whole.
"Sorry?" Lasso asked, cementing the fact that he didn't just slip up—he genuinely thought they played in quarters.
"They play in halves."
"Right, right. Win or lose"
"Or tie"
"Right, that's gonna take some gettin' used to."
Tate, not really wanting to, slipped her work phone from her pocket and opened Twitter. On the club's account, she had tweeted about the conference an hour before it started, and with dread in her heart she clicked on it to see the responses.
She wished she could have said she was surprised to see such an overwhelming amount of replies of just the word wanker.
"And my door is always gonna be open. You can ask me anything. No topic will be into touch." Lasso glanced off to the side, satisfied grin on his face despite the trajectory of the conference.
"One final question." Like a blessing sent from above, Leslie Higgins stepped up.
"Trent Crimm, the Independent." As the reporter stood, Tate cursed under her breath. Crimm was notorious for being tough in his articles, and— "Is this a fucking joke?"
Tatum couldn't help but agree, and the conference turned to chaos. The reporters were yelling over each other, shouting questions to Lasso that he didn't have a hope of answering.
From across the room, Richard began shouting in French, words that probably echoed her own thoughts.
"Nobody can understand you." Roy shouted of the Frenchman, which lead to Richard promptly shutting up.
"This is bleak." Isaac mumbled from across the room, and Tate nodded her head without turning. It was like watching a car crash; she couldn't look away.
She couldn't stop scrolling through the Twitter replies, either, and she knew that they wouldn't slow anytime soon. Not with the train wreck of a conference continuing on mercilessly.
But then Rebecca Welton stepped into frame, and Tate saw a glimpse of hope for the first time since the coach spit his water everywhere. As the club's owner spoke on behalf of Lasso, Tate's mind started to run wild with the ways that she could spin the conference to their benefit.
And then Rebecca Welton saved the day.
"It is time for the Ted Lasso way."
The Ted Lasso way, the start of a new era for Richmond FC. No longer would they have to struggle through an average performing season, not with the new coach. The American would bring new ideas, new perspectives, to the game.
"That was shit." Colin stated after the conference ended.
"It was... not great." Sam conceded. "Sorry, Tate."
"Not what I was hoping for, but I think I know what I'm going to do. I'll see you guys after training?" After receiving confirmations from several of the boys, Tate squeezed Sam's arm as a silent goodbye.
She barely reached the door to leave the workout room when Jamie decided to finally put down the weights and pay attention to what was going on around him. Unfortunately for Tate, his attention was on her.
"Oi, Tate, could you make another post about me? I think the fans would enjoy it very much." He grinned, flexing the muscles he just finished working out.
Tate snorted, then turned on her heel to leave without saying another word.
"Think about it, babe!"
Gritting her teeth as she walked away, she ignored the fact that the fans would enjoy a post about him. But growing his ego was not on her to do list, and she needed to put out a few fires before she could think about anything else.
Jamie fucking Tartt.
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New Tweet from Richmond FC:
It's just the Ted Lasso way. #WeAreRichmond
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