The Problem with the Player

Chapter 1

‘Hi Lydia, it’s Jessica. Bill emailed me about your article and I think I’ve got the perfect celebrity for you to write about. I just spoke to his manager and he has agreed, but I just wanted to check you’d be alright with it first’.

‘Oh, that was fast,’ I say. ‘Really fast. But great, who is it?’ Beyonce? Leonardo DiCaprio? Oprah? The celebrities I actually like? I wish. 

The next two words come out crisp and clear. ‘Ethan Wallace!’

I close my eyes (for whatever reason) and take a deep breath.  ‘You mean Ethan Wallace, the singer? The actor?’ I can still stay optimistic.

‘No, he’s a soccer player,’ She says in a well-duh voice.

‘Oh yeah, I think I can picture him now. He’s got the shaggy hair, five o’clock shadow? The soccer jersey..’ I pretend to sound interested.

‘That’s him! Do you know anything about soccer?’ 

‘I know you kick a ball through the two poles’.

‘You mean the goal post?’

‘Yeah’. 

Jessica laughs in some high pitched screech that runs through my ears. ‘Oh Lydia, you’re too funny!’ Am I? I wasn’t trying to be, what with my lack of sport knowledge. I lost interest in every sort of competitive, physical game since I dislocated my knee on a basketball court. Ok, I didn’t dislocate it, I bruised it. But the pain still haunts me to this day.

‘Anyway,’ she continues, ‘I won’t bore you with the soccer details but basically he is the star of his team and they’ve just won an international competition’.

‘Ok, but why am I interviewing him? What about the other guys?’ Maybe I can persuade her to let me write the article on someone that can carry a conversation that’s not all about them.

‘Well who do you have in mind?’ she asks. Crap. I think back to the interview with Ethan and remember the teammates in the background - the ones that were interacting with their fans. I can’t recall any faces so I take a chance.

‘Well I can’t remember his name but he’s got the blond hair’. I hold my breath. ‘And the, um, piercing’.

‘Hmm, Max has blond hair but I don’t remember a piercing..’ She pauses. ‘You must be thinking of Max Caldwell’.

‘Oh! Right. Max Caldwell! That’s him.’ I hope I sound believable. ‘So can I interview him?’

‘I’m sorry Lydia, I’ve already organised it and emailed Bill. Besides, Ethan is the star of the team! The golden boy. He’s the cool, hip one with the yolo’.

Oh God. Did she just say yolo? And in the wrong context? That’s something my mum would say. Well I guess they’re both around 30 years older than what they consider as the ‘hip’ age. 

‘Alright then Jessica, that’s fine, I’ll interview Ethan.’ I can hear the sound of disappointment in my voice. ‘When are we scheduled to meet?’

‘Well here’s the good part! His agent said he’s free tomorrow at his house.’

‘His house?’ I’m sure it’s full of luxurious soccer trophies and framed photos of his face hanging above the indoor heated swimming pool and spa. And I bet he has dogs. Big tough dogs that barks when - ok, now I’m just rambling on. 

After a while I hang up with details of tomorrow’s time and Ethan’s address. I still don’t know why it has to be at his house though. He probably just wants to show it off. Hoping we’ll take photos of his four thousand dollar, I don’t know, coffee table. Alright, I’m exaggerating. I don’t actually know Ethan, but I can imagine him to irritate me even more when I meet him. 

Dylan clonks downstairs and looks at me. ‘I heard you on the phone. First, nice lie about the article. I know you came up with it on the spot.’ Well he got me there. ‘And second, you’re so bloody lucky to be meeting Ethan Wallace’.

‘What the hell? You’ve heard of him?’

He chuckles. ‘Obviously. Everyone has. He scored fifteen of his team’s seventeen goals in one game last year.’

‘Cool’, I say, making no effort to sound actually interested. I hear a rattling noise and turn around to see my parents jamming the key through the front door. It swings open and they walk in. ‘Hey!’ I say. ‘How was Fiji?’ My mum and dad decided to go for two weeks, annoyingly without me and Dylan. 

‘Brilliant. We just sat by the beach the whole time. You two would have loved it!’

Yes, I’m sure I would have preferred cocktails and the beach rather than working and driving Dylan around everywhere as he is too lazy to get his driver’s license.

It’s 12am when I finally decide to do some research on Ethan. I type in his name on my laptop and the first thing that comes up is his Wikipedia page. I click on it. A photo of him is what stands out the most. His hair is spiked up and he stands in a business suit. 

My eyes skim the first couple of sentences. ‘Ethan Benjamin Wallace, born January 18th’ - Lucky him! He shares the same birthday as my cat - ‘1992, is an Australian soccer player, popularly nicknamed ‘The Aussie Icon’. Turns out the ‘Aussie Icon’ has been named as one of the greatest Australian athletes of the decade. And apparently he  grew up in the same area as I did. Small world. After reading the rest of the information on him, I pull out a notebook and think of questions to ask him. So, Mr Wallace, why do you believe that you deserve to be showered with cheering fans and money from just kicking a ball across a field? Ok thats pretty mean, there are some really good players. Alright, real questions now. I jot down 6 questions, some about bullying, some on ‘inspirational advice’. Most are just about him though.

I climb into bed at 1:30am and clear my mind of Ethan.