The Quiet Side of the Room – Chapter 1

Staring across the locker room, Tim Riggins rested his elbows on his knees and gazed at his celebrating teammates. They had just won the biggest game of their lives – The Superbowl. He was happy, his hard work had paid off and the many years of backbreaking, sweat infested practises had seen him gain the ultimate football prize. His teammates were yelling and hollering jumping on one another in absolute joy and he questioned what was wrong with him. Why wasn't he happy? Sure it had been a few hours since the game and some of the cheer had rubbed off slightly but really, why was he being such a freaking dud?

oooooo

Denver Broncos fullback Tim Riggins was named Super Bowl MVP. He finished the game with 2 Super Bowl records: the most rushing yards in a Super Bowl game (205), and the most rushing attempts (36). His performance was also his fourth 100 yard rushing game in a row in a postseason game, a postseason record. Riggins also recorded a reception for 15 yards, giving him more total yards than the entire Miami team.

Julie Taylor stopped typing as she ran out of steam. She was doing the hard yards in a small, free and ultimately crappy newspaper printed and distributed in Dallas. She was writing about Tim Riggins, who she should know but didn't and getting nowhere fast. Her father had coached him during Riggins high school football career while he had been in Dillon. Having won a scholarship to The Brooks Hill School freshman year, she had spent the majority of her time at school, visiting friends with some time in the pokey little hamlet of Dillon. She hadn't mixed with the kids there having moved into the dusty hellhole scant weeks before leaving for her first year of boarding school.

She lifeguarded at the local pool during the summer and she had a few acquaintances, but preferred to read or msn with her boarding school friends, than mix with the locals. As a teen she had been hit on...repeatedly but she had never taken the bait. The red swimsuit was some sort of mating call to the opposite sex but the small time lads with their greasy hair, tight jeans and easy grins hadn't really appealed to her. She wanted more. And so stories about the 'thinks she's so special' coach's daughter spread and the tag of Priss stuck. She knew about it of course but there was no way they would find out that it hurt, that she did have feelings and that they had been injured. Being shy could be tough and she would rather read than discuss the new tread on a guy's truck tyres.

Her dad had been the big name, the coach of the mighty Dillon Panthers, five time State champions. He had been more than a coach to those boys, a replacement dad of sorts for most. In fact he had been more of a father to his team than her on most occasions. She had experienced pangs of jealousy - that his team spent more time with him, that they knew him better than she - but she was proud of his achievements. He loved her, he was proud of her but school had cost them a considerable amount of father-daughter time. The arrival of Gracie had worsened things, she was no longer the only child. Now there was a new one, a new daughter, a daughter that was at home. Jealousy had then become more of a stabbing sensation than a pang.

Now she was a proud graduate of George Washington University, journalism diploma in hand she had sought positions and while she possessed the talent and an impressive work ethic it hadn't meant much without 

connections. Wanting to be near her family she had found a position on a tiny paper with a small readership under the thumb of a tyrannical blonde boss, Marilyn, who made Tyra Collette look like a meek lamb. So here she was three years later still slogging it out and getting nowhere fast. She was near her parents who now resided in Dallas, her father coaching at University of Texas. She was beginning to develop a relationship with them again, she was showing she could be a daughter and a good one at that. Her sister was eight and a holy terror. Her father would have to have his shotgun ready and waiting at the door. Gracie was high octane precociousness with her mother's looks. She had the green eyes too, not the changeable hazel ones she and her father shared. She was part of her family again and it was nice. But she was bored and she couldn't shake off the feeling that life would continue to meander on that way. She needed a story, 

something to gain the attention of some more impressive publications, to move up in the journalism world.

Julie had witnessed the Denver Broncos win the Superbowl. Her father had attended having received tickets from Riggins. He was so proud of him, sitting alongside Jason Street in the stands her father had apparently cheered louder than anyone there and had beamed with paternal pride when Riggins had been announced MVP. Riggins had even mentioned Coach Taylor and Street in his speech and her father had glowed for three days. Her father had admitted to her once that Riggins was the one who had reminded him the most of himself as a teen. That had surprised her. Her father equated himself with a drunk and womanising boy with greasy hair. Well she could imagine the similarities with the hair but she had never been able to connect her father and Riggins in the manner that Eric had. Her father had been as tough as nails on him and Riggins seemed to respond. Julie guessed the big movement in that relationship was when Riggins had moved in temporarily into her house. She hadn't been there but she had heard about it...at length. How wonderful Tim was at fixing things, the natural way he had with Gracie, how ping pong games went well into the night. It had pissed her off, a strange boy was enjoying time with her family when she couldn't. It wasn't right.

Over the years, through college and into the NFL, her dad had kept in close contact with Tim Riggins. Tim had straightened his life out enough that he could do all the things that her dad had wanted for him. Hell, her father had even attended his graduation from college. And yet she had never met Tim Riggins, she had heard about him at length, seen him from a distance but never had the planets aligned and Julie Taylor spoken to the famous Rigs. He was basically a part of her family and yet her distance had kept them from being at the same place at the same time. If she hadn't known better she would say they had a Clark Kent/Superman deal going on. She was curious though, not about the football, but what there was about this guy that had endeared him so much to father?

Staring at the screen, seeing her pathetic effort of a run down of Tim Riggins' efforts she groaned in frustration. She should be trying to interview him, not rehashing information that everyone knew already. It had been inevitable that Julie would be interested in sports journalism, her father was a coach after all. After fighting the appeal of football for most of her young life she had realised that sports were her interest and that she wanted to write about them. Right now she would write about anything needed for the paper but her dream would be to break the big sports stories, having her own column, have sport stars seek her out to interview them. It wasn't going to happen at this rinky dink, poor excuse of a newspaper. She needed the big story. She needed Tim Riggins. She needed the man who didn't give interviews. She needed the biggest story and by hell or high water she was going to get it.

Author's Note – I have taken a break and sorely missed writing. However my idea well dried up and Jodes suggested something along the lines of this and as I haven't really done much of a time jump in any of my stories I thought this may be a challenge. If anyone wants to give me any other ideas for the future I would gladly receive them. I hope you are interested in an AU future Riggins and Jules.