Stress Conferences

There’s some quiet murmuring, mostly chitchat about flight delays and the efficacy of lockdowns. There’s the universal sound of fingers scrolling along smartphones, swiping and swiping without a care in sight. No big bright flashbulbs like in the old days though. The Athlete in question here is the world’s premier bocce player, Fabrizio Scusa. Unlike most bocce players, Scusa is not in his 70s, sipping on dessert wine and smoking unfiltered cigarettes in between shots. He’s much younger than that. He prefers hard seltzer and a fresh vape pod. The news today surrounds his decision to pull out of the latest match, taking away his balls and going home. Journalists are chomping for his carcass, smelling the chum on the court. Bocce didn’t used to have press conferences. Then again, it didn’t used to have fans either.  

“What happened out there? You just got up after a shot while you were still leading?”

“I felt it was time. I’d rather risk humiliation here than humiliation out there.”

“But couldn’t your opponent interpret your decision as a personal slight? As if you’re unwilling to let him beat you fair and square?”

“He can’t beat me fair and square. I was hungry, I was thirsty. I was tired.”

“What about the fans who paid good money to see you perform?”

“I get stressed like regular people, even though I’m not a regular person. Being a bocce boy comes with a lot of responsibility. Bludgeoning is always on the tip of my finger. I don’t want to maim my competitor by accident. 

“What about on purpose?”

“Don’t get cute with me, Rodolfo.” 

“Some people might get annoyed that you’re quitting this match but heading straight to a big photoshoot in Maui.”

“I don’t enjoy photoshoots. It’s just something I have to do. It’s not my fault people enjoying seeing me shirtless and sweaty.”

“When will you play again?”

“It’s hard to say. After the shoot, I’m going to take a few mental wealth days and decide, along with my team, what’s next for my playing career.”

“Mental wealth days? Could you describe what one of those is like?”

“They’re a lot like mental health days, only with a lot more money. When I’m feeling anxious or uneasy in my own skin, I call up my financial guy Alvaro. He lives on Grand Cayman and he reassures me that I have nothing to worry about. He goes over my endorsements and explains exactly how many private jets I’d need to purchase for him to be concerned. It’s way more than you think. Counting sheep helps some people relax. Me? I count money. I recommend it to everyone. It really works. I'm almost good enough to play bocce again. Almost.”