Chapter Nine
Nine
“I can’t do this anymore,” I say, grinding the words out with more confidence than I feel given the intensity of Carla’s frown now filling my screen. “No amount of hypothetical coaching is worth this.”
Carla doesn’t respond. Instead, I think she must drop the phone and start walking because she disappears, and the screen bounces erratically as the background, with Sofi in it, recedes from view.
“Coach!” I hear my friend shout. “You have my phone.”
“I’ll be back in a minute,” Carla says without slowing. “I need to talk to Kath alone.”
I shiver as I wait, willing the final minutes to tick away on my apple-shaped timer. Through the screen, I catch a glimpse of dark gray carpet and the metal legs of Carla’s desk. A door clicks closed. A leather chair creaks.
My coach’s face reemerges on the screen, but she’s now framed by a black leather chair and the massive set of Olympic rings on her wall.
“I was going to call you later today about this, but if you’re going to broadcast your intention to quit in front of Sofia and half the team, we might as well talk now.
” Carla leans her elbows on her desk and eyes me heavily.
“The board voted to move Adrian forward in the hiring process this morning, but it’s a bit of a complicated situation. ”
“Complicated how?”
“He’d be an unconventional hire for this particular job.
” Carla sounds like she’s choosing her words carefully.
“He’s never coached above high school, although I have it on good authority that he’s turned down three varsity jobs, so it’s not for lack of opportunity.
Also, I like him for the job. Still…some are concerned that he’s too risky of a pick. ”
“Okay,” I say, “what does this have to do with me?”
“You can’t quit on him. You have to train with Adrian.”
“Because…he might be a junior national team coach someday?”
Carla blows out a breath. “No, so you can provide an independent review of his performance. You’ve had elite coaching in multiple age categories.
You could tell us more about his style and whether or not he has what it’ll take.
And, despite all the hiccups lately, you still have a reputation as a straight shooter, so the board will listen. ”
Blessedly, at that moment, my apple timer screams. I shoot out of the bathtub and spring onto the mat, wrapping my pink, raw skin in one of my mom’s fluffy robes.
The moment gives me a reprieve to collect myself and consider exactly how I’m going to turn down Carla’s request without aggravating her.
“Coach,” I say into the phone, trying to be as professional as possible given that I’m dripping on a bath mat. “His coaching style doesn’t work at all for me. I appreciate that USRowing has hiring needs, but I have to think about myself, here.”
“Kath.” She says my name like it’s made of a sigh. “I am thinking about you. You might not be able to see it, but forcing yourself to change up your routine is exactly what you need to improve for Pan Ams.”
Ugh, not this. The silver lining of being sent home was that I wouldn’t need to have this argument with Carla yet again. My routines worked just fine for the years before I started dating Maxwell. Carla wasn’t complaining about my routines a year ago when I was making A finals.
“Routines and schedules make me successful,” I say. “Sticking to the plan is how I perform my best.”
Carla pinches the bridge of her nose. “I’m trying to offer you an opportunity here, and if you could yank your head out of your backside for a moment, you’d see that.”
I inhale sharply, stunned by her tone, but even more angered by her words.
“I’m sorry, an opportunity?” I say, channeling the last seventy-two hours of frustration into my tone.
“To train with this guy? You want an honest review of his coaching style?” I start pacing circles in the bathroom, holding the phone up with one hand and my robe closed with the other.
“We don’t need to wait eight weeks, I can tell you right now.
He’s stubborn and opinionated. He doesn’t value the importance of hard work or time on the water.
Instead of a structured training program, he relies on, I don’t know, stream of conscious, nonsensical notes, and probably some astrology for good measure.
Oh, and he smiles way too much to be taking his job seriously.
So, yes, I can already tell you what it will be like to train with him and, no, I don’t think it’s much of an opportunity at all. ”
When I finish, I’m breathing hard from emotion, pacing, and keeping my voice just below a shout. Thankfully, my mom is at her yoga studio, so I don’t have to worry about her bursting into the bathroom out of concern.
Carla doesn’t speak, her serious brown eyes boring twin holes into my face.
My neck pricks under the thick silence, punctuated only by the screech of brakes as a garbage truck comes to a stop outside and then hums and clangs.
The engine revs again and the sound fades.
A shiver races down my spine and I hug the robe closer.
“Are you done?” Carla asks.
“Yes,” I say.
“Good. Because those subjective opinions aren’t going to cut it when you submit Adrian’s evaluation in two months.
” I raise an incredulous eyebrow and she puts up a hand.
“Enough. Let me finish. The reason I said this is an opportunity is because I have a deal for you. You haven’t talked me out of it, but only because you still have an ounce of my goodwill left.
“If you do this—if you spend the next two months training with an entirely different coach, and one with such a clearly different style than what you’re accustomed to—it will go a long way to proving you are more adaptable than we all thought.
It would help change the board’s position on your residency. ”
Wait, what? Everything freezes. My breath. My feet. The shaking of the phone in my hand.
“What are you saying?” I ask. “If I do this, USRowing will give me my spot back?”
“I can’t guarantee it. You’ll still have to perform well enough at Pan Ams that the board is willing to accept my recommendation.
I think that would be top two. But if you do that, and participate fully in Adrian’s programming, and give us an unbiased account of his strengths and weaknesses at the end of the summer, I will be able to submit a recommendation that they are likely to accept. ”
My breath is coming in short gasps now. Holy crap. Top two. Difficult, but doable. I wouldn’t have to beat the unbeatable Canadian. I’d still have to place above everyone else in Central and South America, but I’ve done that before.
“Would I be able to tell Adrian what’s going on?”
“Yes, I already told him about this possibility. But you cannot share with anyone else.”
“I can’t tell Sofi?”
“Especially not Sofia.”
“Why not?”
Carla runs her tongue over her teeth. “These kinds of things are fodder for rampant speculation. Athletes will get a say through the formal channel—their representative on the board. Otherwise, this is USRowing’s decision.”
“But you’re evaluating him for the junior national team,” I say. “No one I know would care about that job.”
Carla doesn’t answer for a moment. Then she says, “Just promise me, Kath. I don’t want this getting out too early.”
“Okay,” I say, already moving on. I’ll just have to be careful of what I say to Sofi. “I promise.”
It doesn’t matter anyway, not compared to everything else.
Obviously, training under Adrian is not ideal.
I’ll have to keep modifying his program so I don’t lose a huge amount of fitness this summer.
I still have Olympic qualifiers next year to think about.
But. This bargain is way too good to refuse.
At this point, it’s my only real shot to get the spot back.
“I’ll do it,” I say aloud.