I opened the door, only to be met by Dad.
“Angie and Duke are upstairs with your mom; the babies are fussing right now,” he said.
Then he reached to take one of the cameras from me as I walked by. Duke came bounding down the stairs as I headed towards the living room, but he skidded to a stop. Amazingly, he greeted our guests with a low, menacing growl. I looked up into the mirror in the hallway, startled, and saw the videographer’s look of loathing as she backed away from Duke, who was still growling at her. All of a sudden, it clicked.
“Guys, I’m going to take Duke up to the apartment and get him settled there, and then I need to take a shower. Dad, would you show them to the living room and then help me with something from the car for a second?”
“Sure,” he said as he looked at me, a bit perplexed.
I had to grab Duke by the collar to get him to follow me as I walked out the door with Dad trailing.
“David, what gives?”
“I’m not sure. For now, would you keep them occupied in the living room until I get back? We’ll get everything set up after I do a few things. I just have a bad feeling,” I explained.
He nodded as I ran up to the apartment with my phone already out. I hit the speed dial for Fritz.
◊◊◊
In the next fifteen minutes, I showered and changed into some of the clothes Halle had picked out for my travel to LA. I also made a few preparations in the kitchen.
I emerged into the living room and told them we would set up in the kitchen. The two women conferred a bit and then worked together to get everything arranged. They had one camera pointed at me and the other aimed at Lucy, the woman doing the interview. If I’d been doing it, I would have had a third camera focused on both of us.
At one point, the videographer pointed to the big clock hanging on the wall and asked if she could move it.
“No,” I said. “It’s notorious for not working if I move it. Let’s just leave it alone.”
“But there’s another clock on the opposite wall,” she responded in a huff.
“It’s in case that one stops,” I explained.
She just shook her head and continued on about her business. I noticed she repositioned the cameras so the clockfaces wouldn’t be captured in their view.
Once they were ready, the interview started.
“David, thank you for doing this interview. You’re okay with being videotaped, aren’t you?”
“Yes, that’s fine. You’re okay being videotaped too, I assume,” I said with a smile.
“Of course, I just wanted to check before we got started.”
“Fine,” I said. “What’s this for? I think my publicist told me, but I’m afraid I’ve forgotten.”
She smiled brightly.
“I understand. I work with Elle magazine. We hope this is something we can put on the website. I think it’ll attract a lot of attention when we’re done. If you’re lucky, it will make it on the air. That’s the hope, anyway.”
“Would it be possible for me to get a copy of the video once we’re done? My publicist likes to see what all I messed up.” I said.
She smiled.
“I’m sure something can be worked out. Of course, we’ll have to edit it down, but you know how it is.”
I smiled back at her, noting the videographer’s grin as well.
“Oh, something else,” I said. “Our security people insist on a copy of your driver’s licenses. It’s a policy, I’m afraid. They require that for all interviews.”
The two women looked doubtful, but the interviewer reached into her purse and the videographer into her backpack, and they handed them to me. Lucy Previse was the woman interviewing me. I gave them to my dad to make copies. He looked a bit perplexed again but left to do as I’d suggested.
“Okay, one last ground rule, and this really is the last,” I promised. “I’ll talk about topics other than sports in an interview, or I’ll talk exclusively about baseball and/or football. But I won’t talk about both in the same interview. I don’t want to get sideways with the NCAA on rules regarding amateurism.”
The interviewer smiled and nodded.
“Is that a ‘yes,’ Lucy?” I asked. “This is something I’ve been told I really have to be careful about.”
“Of course, yes,” she said.
I flipped open my notebook, pulled out my pen, and set it down on the table.
“Okay, let’s get going. I really can only spare about an hour for this.”
Lucy began the interview, and it went on amiably enough at first. But after about a half-hour, her questions started to become a little more personal. She also changed the focus and started to ask my opinions on various women’s-rights issues.
I noticed a pattern to her questions. In response, I started to vary my answers. A positive response might be “absolutely,” “that would be a yes,” “of course,” etc. I tried to vary my negative answers in the same way.
Next, she started getting into sports issues, even after I told her I would talk on one or the other subject, but not both.
Lucy: “I understand you’re also a gifted athlete and have received both football and baseball scholarship offers from a number of colleges throughout the country, is that correct?”
David: “I’m sorry. As we discussed before the interview began, I can’t talk about sports-related subjects during this interview.”
Lucy: “I also understand you’re the top-rated quarterback, and maybe the top-rated player at any position, in your class. Is that right?”
David: “Again, I’m sorry. As we discussed before the interview began, I can’t mix sports-related subjects with other topics in the same interview. We need to move off sports topics, or I’m afraid this interview is over.”
She consented, still smiling, but now her questions started to get confrontational. The gloves seemed to have come off.
Lucy: “David, you’ve been accused of raping and beating the mother of your child. How do you respond to that?”
David: “I don’t, because your accusations are silly. If you’d taken the time to do a little homework, you would have watched the ESPN interview where the baby’s mother put that to rest. Another source would be the records filed with the county clerk on the matter of custody. If there had been even a hint of any abuse, the police would have made a different finding in their investigation. The local district attorney made a statement to the effect that all those allegations were unfounded. That isn’t something they would do if I’d done any of what you suggested.”
Lucy: “How can you say that? There are pictures of her with a black eye and a split lip!”
David: “Whoever hit her, it wasn’t me. If you’d followed that story at all, you’d know that I was never around her alone at any time during the weekend in question. There are many witnesses, including numerous mutual female friends of us both, who can attest to that. I had no reason to even be mad at her, and I wasn’t mad at her. Why are you making these false charges?”
Lucy: “Then who did you get to hit her?”
David: “Ms. Previse, I don’t know what your agenda is, but it’s becoming clear that you’ve got one. To answer your question, I didn’t get anyone to hit her. I was shocked when I was shown that picture of her. Now, I think we’re done here. Before you leave, I would like a copy of the footage from both cameras, as you promised.”
Lucy: “Oh, you’ll see footage of this, I guarantee that. But I never actually promised to make the raw footage available to you.”
I heard a commotion, and unfortunately, the camera picked up Dad holding my mom back. I wished he had let her go. Now that would give Lucy a story she could put on their website.