Chapter 6
six
. . .
Hendrix
I’d had just about all I could take of Cassidy, and we’d only been sharing a space for less than forty-eight hours.
I was already on ten about my agent ghosting me and dodging my calls like the plague, and I didn’t need her shit added to it.
As pretty as it was, Cassidy’s mouth was the type to make a nigga turn to Jesus or want to send her head flying off her freckled shoulders.
I found the menu without her help and took it into the living room with me and turned on the TV. Of course, one of the first things I saw when I put it on ESPN was my name across the screen as the two on-air commentators discussed my injury, my trade, and the fate of my career.
“Count him out if you want to, but he’s not called The Tomb Raider for nothing. Hendrix Croft gets busy on the court, okay? Anyone can see that he loves the game. He’s true to it and although his season didn’t end on a high note, he had an amazing start to his season. I think he’ll be back on top.”
“I’ll have to agree to disagree with you, Samantha.
It’s sad to say, but the guy just may be old news.
Let’s be honest, here. He’s a great player, but he’s no Lebron.
He’s been traded to one of the historically worst teams in the league.
We all know that’s where players go when their careers are on life support.
This just isn’t a good look for him, especially with all the new hot talent that some of these new players have. ”
“Let me tell you one thing, Kansas City broke the bank to get The Tomb Raider, so I’m not going to be surprised if he gets in there and does just what he did with the Sin City Mambas. He’ll be looking at another championship ring soon, John, just wait.”
I quickly changed the channel when I heard the slight tap of footsteps across the floor and mentally braced myself for the drama that I was sure would soon ensue.
“I see you found the menu,” she stated.
“Yup,” I said, without bothering to turn and face her.
“Hey, um…I just wanted to apologize again about the whole dribbling a ball thing I said. I—I didn’t know about the trade.”
I huffed. “Everybody in the whole word knows about the shit by now, I’m just tryna deal with it.”
“And how’s that going?” she inquired.
I scoffed as I finally turned my head to look at her. “Like you care.”
“For the millionth time, I’m sorry. I didn’t know your situation before I said anything.”
I nodded. “Sometimes, I sit back and think about how different my life was a year ago, shit, even three months ago. I was at the top of my game. I had respect, or at least I thought I did. I bled black and red for the past four years. I made that team a whole fuckin’ franchise and they traded me? Me!”
“And you didn’t see this coming at all? Like, there were no warning signs?”
“Don’t you know it’s all about the all-mighty dollar to these greedy mothafuckas? They own sports teams because they want to work us until one of these million-dollar body parts fail. The moment it does, they start working to replace you, because you’re a liability and no longer an asset.”
“You don’t know if that’s the reason,” she rebutted.
“Shit, everything was all good. Mothafuckas were smiling in my face, talking about renegotiating contracts with my agent, new endorsement deals, and boom, I get a grade two partial tear of my MCL in my left knee in game six of the finals, and two months later, I get hit with the news I’m being traded like I’m a piece of trash.
They don’t need any other reason than that to try and kill my career. I know they blamed that loss on me.”
Her lips flattened into a hard line. “Who? How? You put half the points on the board that night.”
“Nobody said it to my face, but what other explanation could there be? I put that team on my back and built them up to where they are now, and they did me like that? I’m pushing thirty, Cassidy.
I should be writing my own ticket by now, and yet I’m being passed around like a slut at a frat party, and to be honest, I don’t want new teammates or to make new friends. ”
It was no secret that I’d had a rough time finding a home when I first entered the league.
Either my attitude didn’t mesh with the other teammates, or they just didn’t have the work ethic to match mine.
I’d gone from team to team until finding my groove in Las Vegas, and I was scared to have to start all over again.
She folded her arms across her chest. “You know what you sound like right now?”
“What?”
“A fuckin’ middle schooler or something, Hendrix.”
I shook my head. “I wouldn’t expect you to understand. Every time I turn on the fuckin’ TV or look at my phone, niggas got me out here lookin’ like a joke.”
“So, make sure you’re the one who has the last laugh,” she declared.
“How, when I have to play on a team that hasn’t been to a single championship since 1987, and their best player averages maybe eight points a game?”
“Well, maybe it’s time for you to go there with your head held high and show everybody who doubted you just what you can do. You already said you made the Mambas a franchise in four years, right? What makes you think you can’t do that in Kansas City with your new team in less time than that?”
I responded with a shrug even though I knew she was right.
Rising to leadership meant there was a bullseye on my back, and I wasn’t going to let that shit stop me from making my own rules no matter whose jersey I wore in the upcoming season.
Even on vacation, I made sure I still got in as much of a vigorous workout as I could without my physical therapist around, and when it was time to pack up and head out to Kansas, I’d be in perfect condition and ready to play my heart out.
“Am I right or am I right?” Cassidy asked, waiting for a verbal response.
“You are.”
“To quote my favorite movie, ‘Life’s funny sometimes. You just don’t want it laughin’ at you,’” she claimed.
“Your favorite movie The Wood? I probed.
She shrugged her lean shoulders. “You can’t be from Inglewood and not have that at least in your top five favorite movies of all time,” she declared.
I bobbed my head in agreeance. “Shit, you right. That’s my favorite movie, too. What’s your favorite line?”
“That’s a hard question and you know it. That shit had way too many iconic lines.”
“First one that comes to mind, then,” I tested her.
“Aight, aight. Um,” she paused, “‘you think my sister a hoe or somethin’? You think she a fuckin’ toy!’” she yelled.
I threw my hands up in defense. “Nah, man I think she purdy!” I replied, pretending to be the young, country-ass Mike from the flashback with him and Stacey in the movie.
My neck tossed back with laughter, ridding the air of all the awkward tension we’d built up with a simple shared interest.
After we’d come down from our shared laugh, she spoke up again. “You wanna know what I remember?”
“What?”
“The game right before the winter formal, like my sophomore year or something. You guys were down like thirty points and you’d sprained your—”
“Right wrist in the second quarter,” I added.
“Yup, and what did you do?”
“Shit, I kept playing. I couldn’t let us go out like that.”
“I remember actually feeling bad for you because I could see how much pain you were in just by looking at you, but you wouldn’t give up. You just kept playing your little heart out.”
“Don’t get it twisted, ain’t nothin’ about me little, but I feel you. We went on to dog they asses by like twenty points in the end, too,” I boasted.
“Exactly. So, if you didn’t give up with a sprained wrist, why are you giving up so easily now?” she probed.
Cassidy laid it on thick, but it was the shit I needed to hear.
I could tell myself the same shit a million times a day, but it hit different coming from someone else’s mouth.
Most of the people around me were more concerned about how the trade would affect my money instead of me.
Who knew Cassidy would have been the first and only one to make me feel good about the next change in my career.
“Nah, you right. You’re absolutely right. Fuck that shit, I'll be back on top soon!”
“I’m sure you will. How’s your knee by the way?”
Her question made me look down at it and rub it gently.
“It’s good, getting better every day. No pain.
Doc and my physical therapist cleared me to come out on this trip.
I’ve just been laying up for the past four weeks resting and shit.
Hot water really makes it feel good after a workout, and I’ve got the perfect view of the water from my shower. ”
“Oh, yeah?”
“Yeah, since your ass took the master suite, I guess they figured they’d put the better bathroom in another room. But it’s all glass and open for the world to see.”
“The beach outside our villa is private.”
“Good, because I don’t need the next TMZ headline to be about pictures of my dick.” I chuckled.
She smirked. “Yeah, we wouldn’t want that.”
“Aight, well I’m about to go hit up that shower now. Thanks for the pep talk, Cass.”