Chapter 7
CHAPTER SEVEN
Leo spends most of his time at his parents’ house these days, driving his dad to physical and occupational therapy and running errands while his mom is at her office.
He still tries to keep up with training so his game isn’t completely off the rails when he gets back to his regular off-season schedule in December.
Sure, he wants to get back on tour because, you know, it’s his entire life, but tucked inside the pit of his stomach is also the nagging desire to get back on tour and win the US Open while his dad can still remember it.
What if he has another stroke? Isn’t he more prone to have another now?
What if it’s worse next time? Johnny has stayed on tour with him for so long now, and it’s not lost on Leo that he’s finishing what his dad started.
He’s continuing the Chambers legacy, and he doesn’t want his dad’s hard work to be for nothing, and the same goes for his own hard work to stay at the top of the game for the past decade.
Johnny never won the US Open. Winning it for both of them would validate all of it and, in a way, let his dad leave the sport with some closure and some peace when it comes time for him to retire, which, suddenly, seems closer than ever.
Has Leo expressed any of this crushing personal pressure to his dad or, well, anyone? No. Obviously.
To keep these thoughts at bay during his downtime over the next few weeks, he scrolls through Serving Looks, checking on all the latest news and drama up in his old childhood bedroom or in the waiting area at the physical therapy center.
One post, in particular, gets him spiraling.
A new couple emerged on tour after the US Open (straight, of course).
They are, to be frank, disgustingly hot together—a popular pair of Brazilian players who teamed up for mixed doubles at the Open to hard-launch their relationship.
The comments on the photos of them kissing after the match are mostly all gushing observations about how beautiful they are together, but there are still some naysayers in the mix:
Focus on tennis!!
No one cares, this isn’t a reality show
This will just make them both soft. Watch they’re rankings drop now!
The incorrect usage of “their/they’re” would be insulting enough, but Leo is more enraged by the fact that, as always, so many fans expect tennis players to be robots, devoid of emotion and solely focused on the sport.
These comments hit a familiar nerve for him.
In the days following the announcement of his dad’s stroke and Leo’s hiatus, there were many articles and posts sharing the news, along with plenty of comments with well wishes for a speedy recovery.
There was an outpouring of appreciation for his dad and what he means to the tennis world, plus some notes on how much Leo will be missed at the year’s remaining tournaments.
They all helped lift his spirits while watching his dad inch through his recovery, gaining just a little strength back in his body, and as he watches the days tick by on the calendar.
But his brain is just a brain, and it zeros in on the trolls:
His dad should’ve stopped coaching him years ago tbh
It’s sad but they knew he was sick, he shouldn’t have been on tour
Leo should be back out there getting his ranking up! Why is he being a baby??
He’s tried to push these jabs out of his mind and remember that the majority of fans aren’t total ghouls with an empathy deficiency.
But the comments on Hot Brazilian Couple have him fuming again.
It’s been ingrained in him not to get too personal on social media, but he’s finally had enough and now that he’s had a few weeks to process everything that’s happened, he’s ready to share more, on his own terms. He posts a scanned disposable-camera photo of him and his dad on one of the courts at the Delray Beach Tennis Club in 1999.
His dad, smiling widely with his 1990 US Open hat on, is pumping a fist with one hand and resting the other on Leo’s shoulder.
On his right, Leo is sticking his tongue out and holding his tiny cherry-red Wilson racket in the air.
leochambers My dad put a racket in my hand when I was 5, and it was magic.
For the last 24 years, he’s been coaching me and cheering me on, never missing a match, even on his hard days, even on mine.
Most people know, but he has MS and it cut his career short.
I don’t usually get too personal here, but it can be a lot for our family to handle sometimes.
No matter what, though, we’re in it together.
When tennis players step off the court, we have real lives.
And when we step on the court, we carry them with us.
There’s so much going on in every player’s life that none of us can even begin to know or understand.
So, I hope you can be patient with us. I hope you can be patient with me as I stay home with my family to help my dad recover from his stroke.
I want to be here for him like he’s always been there for me.
I’m going to miss playing in front of all of you so much over the next few months.
It’s still magic. See you soon. Love, Leo
He exhales deeply, lets a wave of nausea pass, and leaves his phone on the coffee table.
He’s at his parents’ house and, now that October is here, he heads outside to help his mom construct their own outdoor pumpkin display, in which some of the pumpkins are indeed barfing up their insides with bottles of pumpkin ale leaned against them.
In the midst of posting one of the seemingly thousands of photos she took of the display, Sheryl looks up at Leo, teary-eyed.
“Sweetie, this post about your dad. It’s—” She doesn’t finish the sentence, instead opting to wrap him in the type of hug that only a mom can give.
Pulling her glasses back on, she glances at the post again, studying it more closely.
“You’re getting so many likes! And such wonderful notes from people, too.
Oh, wow. And look at that, Gabe just commented. ”
Wait. What? Gabe commented? Gabe commented? GABE? COMMENTED?
“Let me see that,” Leo says, ripping Sheryl’s phone out of her hand in an extremely cool and inconspicuous way. Through the pumpkin innards he just smudged on the screen, he sees it. There it is. The comment. From Gabe. Well, not really a comment.
An emoji. A single red heart.
Not that it matters, but Gabe’s heart—er, heart emoji—is on Leo’s mind for, one could say, the entirety of fall.
Why would he bother to comment? Why would he send a heart after their tiff at the Open?
And how many times has Gabe called Leo a daddy’s boy?
Why would he act like he cares now? Why?
He should’ve stayed out of it! He should’ve let Leo be!
But, Leo supposes, it was slightly, marginally, moderately nice of him to show some support. Leo has known Gabe for half his life, after all. Maybe this was Gabe’s olive branch. But then again, maybe that’s giving him too much credit.
What’s less confusing to Leo—Thanksgiving now upon them, the new season beginning in about six weeks—is that his dad won’t be returning to tour next season, at least for the Australian swing.
He’s still trudging through physical therapy, by no means prepared to travel halfway around the world with Leo’s team.
They haven’t discussed it beyond the plan to have Brian take over in the meantime, and his dad understandably seems defeated, but he still punctuates any mention of next season with: “Don’t worry, I’ll be back with you by Delray!
” The Delray Beach Open, a lower-level event practically held in their backyard, takes place every February, shortly after the Australian Open, an ideal time and place for his dad to slot back in as head coach.
His dad still has moments of memory loss or struggles to find his way through a long sentence—something the doctor has assured them is normal—but that one sentence, about the Delray Beach Open, never fails.
When December rolls around and the current season wraps up, Leo is feeling more than ready to get his mind off emotions and that emoji and start his off-season prep.
His ranking has dropped to thirty-five after losing all those points from the US Open and subsequent events throughout the fall, so he likely won’t be seeded at the Australian Open in January, but he knows it’s worth it.
Sheryl didn’t have to put her real estate schedule on pause; he was always there to take his dad to appointments and help him make his way around the house, and he feels more clear-headed going into a new season than he has in years.
Hmm, what’s this? He followed his heart and saw positive results? Imagine.
It’ll certainly be strange for Leo to travel without his dad, even if it’s only for the Australian Open.
But he trusts Brian, and he wonders if maybe this is what he needs to start fresh.
Brian will no doubt stick to their routine and get him refocused.
It becomes clear, though, that there will be some adjustments, too.
At their latest off-season practice, Brian has Christmas carols blaring.
In between shouting out notes as Leo moves around the court, Brian is humming out the notes of “Santa Claus Is Comin’ to Town” by the Jackson 5.
“What better way to get hyped ahead of next season than with some holiday bangers?”
“Who are you?” Leo asks with a chuckle.
He might not recognize this side of Brian, but he’s more than okay with it.
He wouldn’t mind a lighter atmosphere after the heavy months he’s had at home with his parents.
He hears Brian coaching him about something as he stares down at the new post from—shocker—Serving Looks, but none of Brian’s remarks are registering. Leo can’t move.
It’s a stunning, golden-hour portrait of Gabe, who’s sitting oh-so-suavely in a white T-shirt and light jeans on a tennis court, smiling with his back against one of the net posts, one leg out, one knee up. Below it, the caption reads:
servinglooks SCREAMING, CRYING, THROWING UP.
Gabe Montoya has just announced that he’s gay!
This makes him the first active male tennis player EVER to be openly queer on tour.
Am I dreaming?! Let’s all celebrate Gabe for the incredible trailblazer he is.
I can’t wait to see what this does for tennis.
Well, fuck.