Room 702 by Ann Benjamin

do that we need to talk about the major supporting people in your life.   How do you feel about your agent?”
    Oscar remains silent.
    “How long have you been with him?” Nancy prompts.
    “The end of my senior year of college.”
    “Are you happy with how he handles your career?   I need you to be honest.   Remember, no one is going to know what we discuss.”
    “You know what?   No, I’m not happy.”
    “What prompted you to choose him in the first place?”
    “By my senior year at Georgetown, I knew I was going to have my pick of agents.   In my junior year I was named Naismith College Player of the Year.   After that, it was hard to keep them away.”
    “So, why did you choose him?   And no point mentioning his name, because it won’t mean anything to me.”
    “Allegedly, he was the best.”
    “Did you talk to some of his other clients?”
    “No.”
    “Did anyone help guide you in this process?   A coach?   A professor?   I can imagine it could be an intimidating decision.”
    “Not really.   I talked it over with Dani a little, but that’s about it.”
    “What about your parents?   You haven’t mentioned them so far.”
    “I don’t think they understood.”
    “How?”
    “My dad’s in insurance, my mom’s a dental hygienist.   They are the least athletic people on the planet.”
    “How about now?   Do they try to understand?”
    “How do you mean?”
    “Just because we aren’t good at something, doesn’t mean we can’t be interested in it to support those we love.   For example, my daughter is very big into ballet.   I was born with two left feet, but I see that dancing is important to her, and a big part of who she is going to be.   Because I love her, even though I don’t necessarily understand all the technicalities, I can see what ballet means to her.   I can show her that I care for her and what she does.   What’s important to her is important to me.”
    “Then, no.   I mean, they took me to practice, bought my gear and paid for me to go to tournaments and camps, but that’s about it.”
    “Even after all your success?”
    “Yes.”   “How do you feel about that?”   “I know deep down they care, but it was always hard being around other players whose parents are very proud.   Even some of my teammates at Georgetown, who didn’t get picked in the draft, from the way their parents were, you would never know.”
    “And now?   What is your relationship with them?”
    “We talk now and then.”
    “Where do they live?”
    “Back on the East coast where I grew up.”
    “Are you okay with this relationship?”
    Oscar leans back on the couch, his legs hanging over the end and answers, “Not really.   Dani is always ragging on me to have a real conversation with them.”
    “Why haven’t you?”
    “Same reason I haven’t done anything else.   I’d just rather avoid shit like that.”
    “Okay, so I think we’ve found your homework for the next couple of weeks.”
    “What would that be?”
    “A few things.   Firstly, I want you to research your agent.   Actually take time to meet with him and see if you are on the same page.   If you’re not, then I want you to speak to your teammates, to former teammates, to anyone you think can given you a good opinion on who is the right agent for you.   I’m not sure what you’re looking for in this person.   Maybe you need to talk it over with Dani and see what’s best for your family.   Can you do that?”
    “Yes.”
    “If and when you find someone you prefer, we’ll discuss how you can empower yourself to end things with your current agent.   Are you comfortable with what we’ve discussed today?”
    “Yes.”
    “Additionally, I think your relationship with your parents may be stunting you more than you realize.   It sounds like you’ve been passive for too long.”
    “What do you think I should do?”
    “If you feel up to it, and can find time in your schedule, perhaps you should meet