Shutout

Chapter 31 - Kane

The game doesn't go well. Bac is not on the roster for tonight's game. I immediately texted him when that was made evident, and he replied that he'd had a migraine since practice that day, so Coach scratched him from the game. It is both believable and suspicious. Nevertheless, without Bac, our main scorer, the game goes down the toilet. Poor Logan lets in only two goals, but that is still more than enough to secure the victory of the other team. This is exactly what he didn't want to happen before his own press conference. I can visibly and audibly imagine him scolding himself and fidgeting his fingers in the locker room. 

Harold and I sit on the couch in multiple layers of blankets as we wait for the press conference to start. Tonight, he looks particularly fluffy in his loaf position, so maybe he's nervous too. Pets can feed off your energy, I think. I'm a bad pet parent feeding my son nervous energy. 

It's pretty late but I've drunk more caffeine than i should so I'm managing to keep my eyes open. The anxiety also helps. All I can keep thinking about is Logan putting up on a pedestal, reading some pre-written statements, and then being exposed to critical and harsh comments and questions. Unlike the Toronto Maple Leafs, the Cardinals do not issue a pre-press statement with guidelines for the press conference. That means they're willing to subject Logan to whatever bullshit these assholes want to know. 

The game ended probably fifteen or twenty minutes ago when the sports channel suddenly changed its screen from the commentators to the press background of the Cardinals' logo. I snatch the remote and turn the volume back up. I turn it up probably too high, but I want to hear everything. Harold will hate me for that, too. 

For a while, we just stare at the Cardinals logo and a table with a black tablecloth thrown on. The background noise is the chatter of reporters on the scene, eager to get some juice headline. I bury myself further into the three blankets I'm under so only my head is above the surface. Then I stuff my hands between my legs so I don't pick at my fingernails with worry. 

A woman with red hair and a crisp black suit walks onto the camera first. She looks professional and calm despite the millions of cameras facing her way. Therefore, she must be the head of PR for the Cardinals. Let's hope she is competent to lead the press conference so Logan doesn't have to. 

The noise quiets down when she picks up the mic from its spot on the rest on the table. She clears her throat into it, maybe testing to see if it's on, before she smiles, "Thank you all for gathering tonight. Usually, we hold a small press interview after most games to review and get thoughts on how the game played out. However, as you all are aware, tonight we will instead be addressing the article released earlier this morning that included our goaltender Logan Klicker. It seems that the public has a lot of questions regarding the article and Logan, so we wanted to have an opportunity to shed some light on both the club's and Logan's views on the article. Both the club and Logan have created a joint statement that Logan will first read. Following the statement, we will open the floor for questions. I ask that you all cooperate and follow some organization so that this runs smoother for all of us, yes?" she's very impressive and almost intimidating. The smile clearly does not reach her eyes. "Now, if you could please help me welcome goaltender Logan Klicker!"

There is a flurry of applause as Logan climbs onto the stage and behind the table, where he death grips a piece of paper. He hasn't taken a shower based on the sweat evident on his face and in his hair. His cheeks are still sort of red, but it's hard to tell if that's from the game or from the fear and anxiety. He's not wearing his post-game suit but has put on a new t-shirt and some sweats. His eyes dart everywhere as he tries to take it all in. With his wide eyes and tense shoulders, he looks so much younger, like a kid who shouldn't be forced into the spotlight like he has. 

The applause abruptly stops, as all the reporters agreed beforehand on how long to clap. Suddenly, the only noise is the way Logan clears his throat and fiddles with the piece of paper in front of him. The audio is so crisp I can almost hear it like he's hear with me.