A disgruntled Tommy Helanen vented to the media about the disappointments of his first NSFL campaign after an Otters game, catching the crowded room of reporters off guard. "So, there's a few things that are downright miserable. First of all, I got picked 16th overall, which makes me nothing more than an afterthought. It's like a book you grab with the intention of reading the first page and putting it back. The only time I even get brought up is when I'm yelled at to do predictions, so am I even really a true part of my team?
Secondly, I can't afford anything and I'm drowning in debt because my salary is only 2 million while everyone else is actually getting paid. I want to buy equipment but no matter how much media or twitter I do, I'm always in debt or close to having a negative balance. Trying to scrounge together 3 million for professional equipment is like swimming upstream. And earlier this year, I got called out publicly for being highly in debt, which I didn't even realize because the bank updated so slowly. I can't keep track of what I have now because the bank spreadsheet won't even load. So I could be Bill Gates or a beggar, do I really know? Nope.
Third, I don't get full-time playing time here, so keeping interest in the games is a challenge at best. How am I supposed to be good when I don't get to play? I'm bored to death, I don't much like being sidelined all the time. Sure, I want team success, but I want to actually be a part of that. I've done everything I'm asked, I fought my way to 90 Speed and I'm very receptive to requests and such, and still I'm playing a minimal role. Like I said earlier, an afterthought. I can't remember the last time I looked at the NSFL index, I just don't care anymore. Even next year, I'm supposedly going to get playing time but I was told that won't equal production because I'm at the back of the line still.
Lastly, I've been grinding TPE but I have absolutely zero chance of catching up no matter how hard I work since I was a late create, which I wish I realized and retired then and there. Being put into the next draft class would've at least given me a chance. There's no way to make up 150 TPE gap, and there's no late earner TPE here like in PBE, so I've always been at a huge disadvantage. Frankly, my career sucks and I don't like it. Tommy out."
Tommy chucked the microphone across the room and kicked the stand over, as his agent rushed onto the stage waving his arms, trying to stop reporters from snapping pictures of the angry wide receiver. The agent ushered him off stage and tried to bring the lobby back to order.
"Tommy doesn't mean it, he's just got....um, a lack of sleep, or the flu, or something. Just pretend you guys didn't hear that! Wait, it's going in Sports Illustrated, whoa hold that story, c'mon man. No please, that was all off the record," the agent shouted into the crowded, chaotic press briefing room. "He's just had a rough year and the frustration is boiling over, can't you understand? Tommy is still very engaged and dedicated to the NSFL and the Otters organi...."
The agent ducked as Tommy rushed back into the room and hurled a football at his head. The agent shot a furious look at him, and continued. "Please disperse, nothing to see here. Tommy, calm the frick down! Deep breaths. This press conference is over, we're leaving."
Tommy crossed his arms and glared at the agent, muttering, "You got me into this mess, and you've yet to get me out of it." But he followed the agent off stage regardless, leaving a room of bewildered reporters behind. Some of the reporters were visibly shaken and watched his exit with mouths agape, trying to process what had just happened. It was like something had snapped inside of the mild-mannered wide receiver, and now it was their job to explain to the world what events had taken place. They pulled laptops out of briefcases and backpacks and began typing frenetically, trying to encapsulate the moment.
Secondly, I can't afford anything and I'm drowning in debt because my salary is only 2 million while everyone else is actually getting paid. I want to buy equipment but no matter how much media or twitter I do, I'm always in debt or close to having a negative balance. Trying to scrounge together 3 million for professional equipment is like swimming upstream. And earlier this year, I got called out publicly for being highly in debt, which I didn't even realize because the bank updated so slowly. I can't keep track of what I have now because the bank spreadsheet won't even load. So I could be Bill Gates or a beggar, do I really know? Nope.
Third, I don't get full-time playing time here, so keeping interest in the games is a challenge at best. How am I supposed to be good when I don't get to play? I'm bored to death, I don't much like being sidelined all the time. Sure, I want team success, but I want to actually be a part of that. I've done everything I'm asked, I fought my way to 90 Speed and I'm very receptive to requests and such, and still I'm playing a minimal role. Like I said earlier, an afterthought. I can't remember the last time I looked at the NSFL index, I just don't care anymore. Even next year, I'm supposedly going to get playing time but I was told that won't equal production because I'm at the back of the line still.
Lastly, I've been grinding TPE but I have absolutely zero chance of catching up no matter how hard I work since I was a late create, which I wish I realized and retired then and there. Being put into the next draft class would've at least given me a chance. There's no way to make up 150 TPE gap, and there's no late earner TPE here like in PBE, so I've always been at a huge disadvantage. Frankly, my career sucks and I don't like it. Tommy out."
Tommy chucked the microphone across the room and kicked the stand over, as his agent rushed onto the stage waving his arms, trying to stop reporters from snapping pictures of the angry wide receiver. The agent ushered him off stage and tried to bring the lobby back to order.
"Tommy doesn't mean it, he's just got....um, a lack of sleep, or the flu, or something. Just pretend you guys didn't hear that! Wait, it's going in Sports Illustrated, whoa hold that story, c'mon man. No please, that was all off the record," the agent shouted into the crowded, chaotic press briefing room. "He's just had a rough year and the frustration is boiling over, can't you understand? Tommy is still very engaged and dedicated to the NSFL and the Otters organi...."
The agent ducked as Tommy rushed back into the room and hurled a football at his head. The agent shot a furious look at him, and continued. "Please disperse, nothing to see here. Tommy, calm the frick down! Deep breaths. This press conference is over, we're leaving."
Tommy crossed his arms and glared at the agent, muttering, "You got me into this mess, and you've yet to get me out of it." But he followed the agent off stage regardless, leaving a room of bewildered reporters behind. Some of the reporters were visibly shaken and watched his exit with mouths agape, trying to process what had just happened. It was like something had snapped inside of the mild-mannered wide receiver, and now it was their job to explain to the world what events had taken place. They pulled laptops out of briefcases and backpacks and began typing frenetically, trying to encapsulate the moment.
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