Beautiful Games

Chapter 2: Affection

The whole week at work John became extra tiresome. Hopefully this Sunday game we would get posted separately and I wouldn't have to deal with him. 

"John, your on camera 3. Osie, you're his cable wrangler, thanks." Scott says as we begin setting up on the sidelines. 

Oh, for God's sake! I think at the ground darkly. This is going to be a long Sunday. I notice John's shoelace is untied and don't bother telling him. 

Today is overcast, but the sun is shining brightly through making the atmosphere feel untroubled. This is a direct contrast to how I'm feeling about this arrangement.

Nodding I pick up the camera box and walk slowly over to our stationed point on the side of the busy field. 

"I can carry that for you if it's too heavy," John says trying to take the handle from me.

"No thanks," I say through gritted teeth. "I've got it."

What is it with men in TV and film production always offering to carry heavy equipment? This is my job and I'm probably stronger than most of them anyway. 

"You sure? Wouldn't want you to break a nail," He scoffs while starting to set up the tripod. 

I scowl at him. It's no secret to John that I think he's an idiot. 

"I reckon this'll be an easy shoot," He says glancing around the quickly filling stadium seating. "Might not even need your wrangling. I've got this technique down where I just -" he motions "-whip it out behind me, seems to work pretty well in my opinion." 

As he's busy talking I've finished setting up the camera and wish I could chuck it at him. I diligently place it on top of the tripod and begin hooking it up to the recording cables. 

"Not in the mood for sideline bets, eh?" He stands there with his hands on his hips while I work. "Thanks for doing all that." His voice is obnoxiously loud and it grates my ears.

"I'm here to do a job, John. Not sit back and enjoy the game." I say turning my back on him. 

The game begins and I silently follow John's every move making sure his cables don't get tangled or trip anyone up. Though I secretly hope he might trip over one himself. 

At the end of the game, I have to listen to Scott's praise over John's good shooting. While they're having a debrief I go over and start packing the camera kit away into its hard black case. There is something therapeutic about how each part of the camera has its own special compartment it fits into perfectly. 

After putting the gear away in the equipment room, with no help from John, I head downstairs to the editing office. The plain grey concrete hallways stretch out ahead of me. I round the next corner and see all the players coming off the field and filing into their changing room. I have to pause and wait for them in the narrow space, these burly men get right of way. 

I catch the eye of the same player from last week who had asked if I was okay after falling over. He winks at me cheekily and it takes me by surprise that I'm not entirely sure how my face reacted. Then the moment is over and I'm moving down to the offices. 

On my way back from dropping off the cards I pass by the changing rooms again. I look at my feet dejectedly, already thinking about what I have in the pantry at home for dinner. Then I hear a voice beside me.

"Hey, you're part of the film crew, eh?" 

I glance upwards and meet the same brown eyes. I notice his shaved head this time and a hint of a tattoo on his neck peaking out the collar of his shirt.