It’s a majestic day in Los Angeles. The sun glints off the glass of the Beverly Hills Plaza Hotel, renown for its plush terrycloth bathrobes and hospitality for reporters doing profiles of enigmatic pop stars. Gracefully but unobtrusively, a young man walks in with a hat and sunglasses in an attempt to find anonymity in a city that makes stars out of young women having sex in night vision. He’s inconspicuous enough–good looking, but not actor hot. Besides, looking so young you need to be carded is more for Mark Chmura’s house. His face sinks with resigned frustration, as if he recognizes that his plan to go incognito was rendered moot before he even left the apartment. Still, he gets the feeling that he’s being watched, but not adoringly, when he strides across the hotel lobby and approaches the spa.
[SPA DOOR SLOWLY OPENS]
Hi, I’m here for my 3pm massage and facial.
Jeannie: Hello, Mr. Goff, welcome back from San Francisco. How was your business trip.
Goff: [sheepishly] It was, uh, fine. Look, I’m carrying a lot of stress in my shoulders. I’d love to get right back there and get relaxed.
Jeannie: Sure thing, Mr. Goff, right away. I’ll ask Caroline to start a few minutes early. Go ahead and drop your stuff in the locker–you must be used to that! And put on the robe inside, and Caroline will meet you in room 4.
Jeannie’s innocuous locker comment stings Goff more than either of them expected, and it shows in the shame on his face as he slinks toward room 4. She purses her lips to–say what, exactly? To apologize? To comfort him? She doesn’t even know, so she lets the silence build as he slowly strides with nary a limp nor hamstring pull to the closest thing the young man has to a hideaway.
[SPA ROOM 4 DOOR SLOWLY OPENS]
That was brutal.
/takes off robe
//gets under sheet
///closes eyes and waits for masseuse
[DOOR FLIES OPEN]
Goff: Hey, where is Caroline? What is this all about?
Dickerson: You whiny little bitch. Relax, this is a massage. I may have ripped you publicly and said you aren’t prepared for the NFL and that you deserved a preseason grade of a D and implied that you’re terrible…
Dickerson: Oh, right. Look, I’m not a hater, I’m the best Ram of all time, so I’m the biggest Rams fan there is. You’re our quarterback, so I realized that rather than just calling you prepared, I can GET you prepared. So let me oil up and get this mind and body massage going, son.
Goff: I’m not sure I’m comfortable with this, Mr. Dickerson.
Dickerson: Please, call me Mr. Dickerson. Besides, you’re not comfortable with the playbook, you’re not comfortable leading on the field, you’re not comfortable with the speed of the defenses, maybe it’s time for you to get outside your comfort zone. Now, let me give you a little pep talk while we get this massage going. You, Jared Goff, you are a golden child. These deltoids I’m rubbing with massage oil with just a hint of peppermint aroma are part of a golden arm. This golden arm has earned you an indelible place in history as a first overall draft pick and with it a four year, $27.9 million contract with all the trimmings. Don’t listen to Keyshawn Johnson say you weren’t wanted by Jeff Fisher, Jeff Fisher wants a winner, so why wouldn’t he want you?
[DOOR BUSTS OPEN]
Goff: WHAT THE FUCK IS THAT THING?!
Dickerson: Oh, that’s just Ram Man. He has some thoughts on the question I just posed, and fortunately for you, I speak Ram.
Ram Man: BAAAAAAAAA! BAAAAA!
Dickerson: Oooh, tough but fair. He says that you are Fisher’s excuse. He’s hiding behind your inexperience so that if/when he doesn’t hit his fabled 8-8 mark this year, it will be because he was “protecting” and “developing” you while he buys himself another year of salary for his mustache dye.
Ram Man: BAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!
Dickerson: But also, you suck. Hey, those are Ram Man’s words, not mine. But he’s got a point. You couldn’t beat out Case Keenum for the starting job, and all he did in week one was turn in ten punts, two INTs, and a turnover on downs in thirteen drives against a 49ers defense where everyone good retired or resumed domestic violence habits.
Goff: Come on, man, this isn’t making me feel better.
Ram Man: BAAAA! BAAAAAAAA! BAAA!
Dickerson: That’s right, and you couldn’t even beat out Sean Mannion for the number two spot on the depth chart, and Sean Mannion’s mom didn’t even know he was playing in the league.
Ram Man: BAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!
Dickerson: So Ram Man says stop being a little bitch and coming into the spa for treatments, and start studying your playbook, hitting the weight room, and sucking up to Tavon Austin. If you don’t get your ass onto the field and deliver results, you’ll flame out of this league faster than you can say Jamarcus Russell’s purple drank ain’t what fucked up Ryan Leaf.
Ram Man: BAAAAAAAAAA!
Goff: Come on, this is bullshit. I’m 21 years old, talented as hell, and want to take over as soon as Coach has faith in me. Why are you being so mean to me? This isn’t be right!
Ram Man: BAAA! BAAAAAAAA! BAAAAAAAAAA! BAAAAAA!
Dickerson: Right? RIGHT!? Nothing about this is right! This team never should have taken a quarterback first overall when it had so many needs to be ready to compete. And what kind of reality do you think you live in anyway? Where do you think Ram Man wants you? Look what happens when you search for your “home?”
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