I walk into the rustic, warm brown toned office and take a seat at coach’s desk. His back is facing me, which I’m grateful for, because no matter how righteous I feel right now, I can’t stand the look of disappointment on his face. Ever since my Dad moved to South Korea for work five years ago, Coach has been the closest thing to a father figure I’ve had. When things go to s, he’s the first person I call. This time, I’m dreading having this conversation with him. ‘What happened out there?’ Coach asks in a low voice. I open my mouth and attempt to say she provoked me, she brought up personal , and most importantly, she’s an annoying brat who kinda had it coming for years. Instead, I struggle for words as I look around his office; photos of us, awards we’ve won, trophies we’ve earned- everything we’ve all worked so hard for, staring me right in the face. The coach turns around and waits for my response. Neither of us say anything. I wish he yelled, I wish he jump to conclusions and tell me I am the most stupid, selfish basketballer in the world. However, he just leans back against the wall and patiently waits.

Okay, well looks like I’ll be the one to break the silence. ‘I know you’re really disappointed Coach, and I’m sorry. I was mad and lashed out. I shouldn’t have and in the end, I let you and the girls down.’ I hang my head low, not daring to make eye contact with him. He stays quiet for a while and then begins, ‘Ahri, the person you let down the most was yourself.’ I slowly look up, puzzled, and see that he actually means what he’s saying. ‘You’ve trained endlessly, you put the most hours in the gym and held yourself to the highest standard of discipline. Every night you watch dvd’s of our previous matches and revise gameplay, implement new strategies. You’re the first to arrive at this court and the last to leave. You went through such a difficult time after your mother passed and you channelled that energy to be one of the greatest players Canada’s produced. This past year, you were the best captain and role model to her team. What more could a coach ask for?’ Again, I look around the office and see the photos of us smiling when we won the World Championship Quarter-Finals, just a fortnight ago. We’re all carrying the coach on our shoulders and he’s terrified beyond his wits while we’re all laughing. I used to think that was a good day because we won. Now I realise it was a good day because we all did our best on the court for each other . Despite the fact we won Semis today, the same cannot be said.

His voice draws my attention again, ‘Ahri, I’ve known you since you were five. I know you had your reasons for doing what you did. This is why it’s breaking my heart to be the one that has to tell you this’ He takes a deep breath and I immediately jump to the worst scenario possible. No, no, no. It can’t possibly be? They wouldn’t do that to me? Would they?  ‘Please Coach, she’s fine. Hana doesn’t even have a bruise! It was just a few scratches, she’ll heal in like a day. I’m sorry. I’ll clean the court, I’ll do more hours in the gym. Just please, please don’t -’ I can’t even bring myself to say it. ‘Please don’t bench me from the Grand Final. Please, I’ll do anything.’ I frantically blurt it out, looking helplessly at him. ‘I’m so sorry Ahri, I just received the phone call from the Board before calling you into the office. I know Hana is not hurt severely, but there was a photographer who captured images of you acting violently towards her. We can’t even pretend it happened during the game, in the heat of the moment. It looks like you’re harassing her, and that violates our Code of Conduct. The Board has said if Canada is to proceed to play in the World Grand Finals, you are not to join them.’ This time he lowers his head, and looks ashamed. ‘I’m sorry Ahri, I know how hard you worked for this. I could not convince them to let you stay on. They have made it clear that if you are drafted to play at any stage in the Grand Final, they will consider today’s Semi Final a forfeit, and South Korea will go on to play USA on Saturday. I can’t do that to our girls Ahri, I’m so so sorry.’

I just stare at his face, trying to process everything he is saying. It’s as if my heart has been ripped out my body, my ribcage shattered and lungs struggling to fill with air. Tears stream down my face without my permission and I use my jersey to gather all the snot that’s forming. Glamorous, I know-it’s what I do best. I laugh at how I can still be sarcastic in the moment where my dreams are being snatched away from me. What else is there to do though? I know there’s no point getting mad at how unfair this is because Hana is never going to admit she instigated the whole thing and I know once the Board makes a decision, it’s final. Deep down, I’m most annoyed at myself for handling the situation like that. The coach lets me curl up in the chair and watches me crazily switch between laughing and crying in misery while offering occasional words of encouragement like ‘You’ve taught the girls so well, there’s no way we can lose!’ or ‘We can play the stranger story game during the match (you know the one where you see a stranger and speculate their life story).’ I smile softly, but inside I’m a mess because I can’t finish the season off with my girls or play in what could’ve been the biggest game of my career- it’s the Women’s World Championships, who knows if Canada will make the Grand Final ever again. Congrats Ahri, you played yourself.

‘Ahri….Ahri,’ Coach tries to catch my attention. I look up at him and see Hana at the door, standing with crutches. Why on earth does she have those? I didn’t even look at her legs let alone injure them. She stands there with a knowing smile but immediately wipes it off when Coach asks her how she is feeling. ‘Yeah, Coach, I’ve been better. The medic says I won’t be able to walk properly for at least two weeks but I guess it can’t be helped, can it?’ She throws me a hurtful look, which does not go unnoticed by Coach. It takes all of my discipline to not launch myself at her and karate chop those legs so she actually needs those crutches but Coach speaks again and apologises on my behalf. ‘Don’t say sorry to her, she doesn’t even deserve your attention,’ I try to telepathically communicate with him. ‘It is okay, Coach, not your fault at all. It’s good to see you’re doing well, I miss our monthly movie nights with the team,’ Hana replies in a sweet voice and she almost seems genuine. I remember the kind Hana I once knew, once called my sister. Those warm feelings lasts for around 0.01 seconds before I recall what a massive she is and enquire, ‘What are you doing here Hana?’ She smiles and hands Coach two pieces of paper, one addressed to him and one for me. It’s written in English, but has a Korean letterhead at the top of the document. ‘What are these?’ Coach asks the question on both of our minds, looking at the document with a puzzled expression.

‘As you both know, besides basketball, I work in South Korea as a model and entertainer. Unfortunately, my management team has sought legal action for the injuries sustained as a result of Ahri’s- well, how should I put it- crazy outburst perhaps?- and are seeking remuneration.’

I begin laughing because there is no way this is legit, it's definitely a joke or a scare tactic. There’s no way her agency would. Hana looks me, slightly taken back at my giggling. ‘I’m glad you’re happy about it, I did not know you were looking forward to suspension.’ I stop laughing and take a look at Coach’s face as he reads the document. His face becomes increasingly sadder to look at and I immediately grab the letter addressed to me.

Dear Ahri Choi,

In light of recent events, it has come to our attention that a star under our agency was injured as a result of your actions. To prevent incidents like this and to endorse friendly and positive relationships between our nations, we advise that we are seeking a sum of $100,000 to compensate Hana Lee and have requested for your suspension to the International Board of Basketball. These measures have been taken to illustrate that we do not tolerate any form of violence toward our stars and we will take appropriate actions to protect them. Your manager has also been informed of this and we expect a formal reply within 24 hours of receipt. We do advise that litigation will be pursued if our terms are not acceptable to you.

Regards,

Dahlum Choi

Hana Lee’s Manager at SME

I read the letter another few hundred times, always feeling stumped at the familiar signature at the bottom of the page. A vile feeling grows in my stomach the more times I read it. Suspension? 100k? Isn’t this a bit extreme for a few scratches? Hana looks at me, smirking. She knows how screwed up this is and she’s loving every minute of it. After five minutes of pacing around the room, Coach turns to look at me, bewilderment covering his face. ‘Ahri, I don’t get it. Why is your father trying to ruin your career?’

Good question Coach, good question.