Sitting on the chair properly, Lu Ke raised his head and looked at the people coming and going in the corridor. His vision was full of moving people, but there was no sound. There was only the trivial sound of footsteps moving on the carpet. As they passed by, He lowered his voice and said a few simple greetings, or exchanged a look, then passed by in a hurry and continued on, extremely busy.
It seems that as soon as you close or open your eyes, the night has passed and the sunrise comes again. Today is the last day of the rookie training camp, a day for team interviews. It is only 8:45, and the interview has just started less than an hour ago. The corridors of the Marriott Hotel are filled with rookie players, bustling and lively.
Not long ago, Lu Ke just finished his first interview with the Cleveland Browns. The entire conversation lasted about eight minutes. The conversation was pleasant and the atmosphere was relaxed, but there was not much substantive content. This was only Lu Ke's first face-to-face conversation with the team manager and team coach. He had no way of judging whether the entire conversation was positive or negative.
Now, Lu Ke is waiting for the second interview. He has been waiting in line for nearly thirty minutes and is still on standby.
Waiting is always boring, and the nervousness is amplified little by little. I pulled up the suit on my body, let out a long breath, and my racing heart calmed down a little. I have experienced big scenes like the Rose Bowl and large-scale interviews during reporter internships, but I never expected that the pressure brought by a simple interview would actually make people more nervous.
"Suits are really suffocating, do you think so too?" A half-joking voice came from the right, but the voice was a little tight. From the corner of your vision, you could see him opening the buttons of his suit uneasily, and then buttoning them up again. No matter what, it didn't feel right, as if all the limbs were restrained by the suit.
Lu Ke shrugged, "Compared to wearing a suit, playing ball is much simpler."
"Ha, it couldn't be more accurate." The other party laughed suddenly, "If possible, I would rather go down and start doing bench presses now." With one sentence, he got the agreement of a small circle of people around him, and the atmosphere relaxed a little, but Then there was silence again, and everyone was immersed in their own thoughts again to avoid disturbing the ongoing interview.
The waiting time was so slow, it seemed like you could hear the sound of the hourglass falling. Another fifteen minutes passed, maybe twenty minutes, the room door opened, and a staff member came out, "Next one."
Lu Ke stood up and nodded politely, "Lu Ke, quarterback, UCLA."
The staff member looked down at the sign-in form in his hand, searched for it, and then nodded, "Yes, you can go in directly after the player inside comes out." After that, the staff member walked in again and closed the door. Come to your door.
About thirty seconds later, the door to the room opened, and the player walked out with a smile on his face. His eyes came into contact with Lu Ke, and he said friendly, "Good luck, man."
Lu Ke also smiled and nodded, "Good luck."
Pushing open the door to the room, Lu Ke took a deep breath, and then stepped in. He had a panoramic view of the room. In the center was a group of surrounding sofas. On the couch facing the door and with his back to the window, sat There were two middle-aged men in suits and ties, with a secretary-looking woman sitting on their right, and the left hand side was empty.
When Lu Ke came in, a tall and thin middle-aged man walked out of the room next to him and walked to the empty seat on the left. Then he saw Lu Ke. He couldn't help but pause in his steps, showing a complex expression that was difficult to interpret. , "Peter, has John told you about this?" But no one looked up, and the middle-aged man with gray hair, a tough expression, and a hint of elegance under his suit and ties said in a deep voice, "Sit down, George. We are pressed for time."
This is the interview room of the Seattle Seahawks. The middle-aged man who spoke is Peter Carroll, the team's head coach; the silent person on the other end is the team manager, John Schneider. -Shneider), and the last person to come in on the left is the team's quarterback coach, Carl Smith.
"Lu Ke? Please sit down." Peter spoke first, pointing to the sofa opposite them, with his back to the door and facing the window.
Lu Ke walked around and said hello politely, then sat down and introduced himself again, "Lu Ke, quarterback, UCLA." The same words will probably be said over and over again today. Countless times.
Pete frowned slightly, always lowering his head to flip through the information in his hand, and waved his hand gently, "We all know this. So, you were also a quarterback in high school? But the record in the file was not found. How is this? What's going on?"
"I go to George Washington High School, which is a public high school." Lu Ke explained simply, and everyone suddenly realized that the sponsorship fees for the sports department of public high schools all come from the state government, and few can get it. With great development, unless there are outstanding results, most records are incomplete and scouts' attention is very limited. "In high school, I was the starting quarterback..."
The introduction did not continue. Peter waved his hand again, interrupting Lu Ke's words, "High school is not important. We will follow up if necessary. In addition to quarterback, have you played other positions? ?”
"Yes, I tried the position of wide receiver in high school. I also served as a training partner for the defensive team in college. I tried the positions of defensive end and center back." Lu Ke told the truth and frankly said that he had been a training partner. fact.
"You must be kidding." Karl finally couldn't hold it back and blurted out in an exclamatory voice, "With your size and talent, you can actually serve as a defensive end? And a wide receiver? This is a joke."
Peter and John both raised their heads and looked at Lu Ke, as if curious about Lu Ke's answer.
Faced with such offensive words, Lu Ke raised his chin slightly and said in a neither humble nor condescending manner, "So I am a quarterback, not a defensive end or a wide receiver. I believe that this is the most Fits my niche.”
"You ignored the prefix, sparring partner." Karl was still unwilling to let go and continued to be aggressive. Lu Ke opened his mouth and was about to fight back, but Carl was so powerful that he didn't give Lu Ke a chance to speak. He was the interviewer and Lu Ke was the applicant. He had an inherent advantage. "Honestly, you are sure that you can fight." Football? Your height is 6.33 feet, but you are only 187 pounds. It is too light. It is really too light. Looking at your physical test results, haven't you ever thought that maybe you are not suitable for football? Maybe you should Give up. You know, after all, there has never been anyone like you in the league."
As a reporter, grabbing topics and seizing opportunities are not his only skills. His anger increased little by little, and after reaching the extreme, he calmed down. Lu Ke allowed Karl to speak freely, but Peter and John, who were sitting on the side, had no intention of stopping him. The atmosphere in the whole room was not like an interview, but more like an interrogation.
"What do you mean by someone like me? Mr. Smith, can you please make it clearer?" Lu Ke raised his chin slightly. He could hear the contempt and disdain in Karl's tone. The whole tone was wrong, "Underweight." Players? Players who performed mediocre in physical tests? Or players who came for interviews but encountered personal attacks? "
A series of retorts made Karl's cheeks blush slightly, as if he was drunk, and his anger was instantly ignited, "Chinese, I mean Chinese."
Lu Ke clenched his hands into fists, ignored Karl, and turned to look at John, not Peter, but John, "Mr. John Schneider, is Mr. Smith questioning my personal ability or questioning me?" Skin color and race? Is this racial discrimination?”
This is not only a personal issue, but also a team issue. Lu Ke directly complained and protested to the team manager, emphasizing the seriousness of the issue.
Lu Ke knew that his physical talent was insufficient, and any team had the right to raise questions; but the way and tone of Karl's questions always contained something in his words, alluding to Lu Ke's race, not his physical fitness.
"I only know that it is the player's ability that determines whether a player can play, not the player's race. Half a century ago, white people believed that football was a highly intellectual sport that was not suitable for black people and refused to allow black people to enter the professional league. But Now, black people have become the most important part of the league. So, you are questioning me now, is it because of my ability or because of my race? I need an answer."
Neither humble nor arrogant, but sharp and sharp. At this moment, Lu Ke was not a rookie player coming for an interview, but a Chinese young man living in the United States, fighting for his own rights and interests.
John was slightly stunned. In recent years, black groups have gradually united to fight for their own racial rights; women have also united. However, the Chinese group has never been able to rise. Among Asian immigrants, Indian immigrants, Japanese immigrants, and Korean immigrants have all found their own positions and gradually established a foothold, but Chinese immigrants are not included among them.
Suddenly, they were caught off guard by the confusion: "Is discriminating against Chinese people equal to racial discrimination?"
"I'm just stating a fact." Carl felt Lu Ke's disregard, and the anger accumulated in recent days burst out at this moment, "Have you never thought that Asians are not suitable for rugby?"
"It's like black people are not suitable for mathematics, art, and reading. Is that so?" Lu Ke fought back forcefully without any pause. Carl was speechless for a moment. Lu Ke suddenly turned his head and looked at Looking at John and Peter who had always maintained silence, they suddenly stood up and said, "I will report this matter to the alliance!"
"...That's not what happened, it was just a misunderstanding." John finally came to his senses and tried to remedy the situation. "We are just... uh, we are just worried about your physical test results. The relevant test data are not very convincing..." John turned to look at Peter, asking for help.
Lu Ke had no intention of sitting down, and looked condescendingly at John and Peter, "Well, your way of expression is very unpleasant. I'm pretty sure that if the person sitting here is a black man or a woman, That's not what you would choose. It makes me even more certain that I'm not the guy the Seattle Seahawks are looking for."
After speaking, Lu Ke slightly retracted his chin, signaled, then straightened his back, turned around, and left the room without looking back.
Grass! Deep in Lu Ke's heart, anger was boiling wantonly, and his hands were clenched into fists! He would make them regret it.
