Double Daddy Trouble

“Thank you. I’ve heard a lot about my grandfather today. Nice to meet you, Steve. I'm anxious to hear your thoughts on the direction of the franchise. I should go ahead and warn you, I'm only gathering information today." It seemed like a good disclaimer to have at this point. “I’ve had a lot thrown at me, and its only lunch.” I tried a softer approach with him, just clinging to the idea that maybe this guy could be my ally in the company.

He shook his head. “We have to do more than that.” He was frantic. His face was red, and his forehead was dotted with perspiration. "We have to act immediately. There’s really no time."

"What are you talking about?" I asked. I wasn't in the mood to make any kind of decisions. It felt as if every time I took a breath, more of the floor moved out from under me. I couldn’t catch my footing.

"Our numbers are in the nightmare range," he explained. "I've never seen them this low." He shoved a piece of paper in front of me scattered with charts and graphs. I tried to read the fine print at the bottom of each bar graph.

I looked at him. "What does this mean? Why don't you explain it to me?"

"Ms. McCade, the Warriors are the least popular team in the league. We need to act fast and do something that brings them back into the fans’ hearts."

"I don't understand." I shook my head. It didn't make sense. The Warriors meant Texas football. People loved Texas football. They grew up either a Warriors or Wranglers fan. There was no way our numbers could be this terrible. He had to be exaggerating.

His cheeks puffed as he tried to settle his breath. "Ever since your grandfather died, we’ve lost massive amounts of ticket sales. The team is angry. Now that he’s gone, there are stories that have leaked to the press. People know that management isn’t spending money. The players are ready to jump ship. And that doesn’t make any of the fans happy. No player wants to come here and practically all of them want to leave.”

I stared at him in complete disbelief. The ground shifted again. “Well, do you know a way to fix it? Should we bring Charlie Maine in? I knew my grandfather trusted her and she did such a good job with—”

He cut me off. “No, we don’t need Charlie.” He looked annoyed. “I have a plan.”

I felt uneasy. There was nothing reassuring about Steve. At least with Charlie, there was some successful team history. She was tough as nails, but her methods worked.

“What is the plan you propose?” I asked, skeptical he could fix this with a marketing strategy.

“It’s a radical idea, but I’m counting on it to work.”

“Ok. What is it? I’m listening. If there is a way to fix the nightmare, then let's do it. I don't want any of the players to leave. We need them. The season starts in two weeks. We can’t have opening night with an empty bench.”

Steve looked at me, forming a thin line with his lips. I could tell he was used to living at a frantic pace. Everything he did was quick and fast. All his movements were erratic. Maybe that was the life of a PR director, I didn't know. He made me feel anything but calm. I wondered if working for the Warriors did this to him.

“I think there is a way to show the fans that the team loves the new ownership. The players are excited about the new changes. It’s a way that will bring ownership and the team together in an unbelievable way. It’s going to give us great press. Positive stories. Headlines that could last us the entire season.”

"What is it? I'd love to hear this fantastic idea of yours." At this point I would take any ideas. I didn't have a single one. I had no plan how to rebuild the team my grandfather had run into the ground with his greed. He had reaped all the rewards and benefits while he worked them into exhaustion and hatred.

I waited for Steve to give me the magical answer.

“Ms. McCade, you need to get engaged.”

I had been able to prevent it all morning, but the ground gave way as if there were a gaping hole under the desk. I staggered, grabbing the edge.

“What are you talking about? Engaged? I’m not even seeing anyone.”

“Yes. Engaged. I checked into your personal life before this meeting. You’re going to need to up your profile activity on social media by the way. You haven’t posted anything in months.”

I stared at him. “This has something to do with how many vacation pictures I post?”

Steve chuckled. “No, sorry—off track. You need to get engaged to one of the Warriors.”

I felt my heart beat in my chest, pounding wildly. My palms became sweaty. I didn't know if I had enough space in my ribcage to take a full breath. My chest was closing in on me.

“Are you crazy? That’s your plan? You want me to marry one of the football players? That’s not even possible. I can’t do that. It’s unprofessional. Unethical. No way.”

He presented another graph. I didn't bother to look at it. Nothing made sense right now. I just had to keep myself from falling through the floor, and sinking deeper into this universe of nonsense he had created.

“If you look at the numbers here,” he explained. “You'll see that fans react well to interpersonal relationships with the team. And I don’t think interpersonal relationships get any stronger than engagement. You are a young beautiful woman who has just inherited the team. A team that has sent out a clear message of hatred toward ownership. But if one of these guys will agree to be your fiancé, at least through the end of the season, then it will look as if he represents the entire team and that the team is united. They don't hate ownership, they love ownership. Love ownership so much that one of their own is going to marry her."

“This is the most insane thing I have ever heard.”

“Just listen, Vanessa. This one man will represent the entire team. You’ll be like their queen bee. And he is the figurehead who says to the world the whole team would marry you if they could.”