Williams considers this. "I am not a prima donna," he says. "I might be treated as one, but I'm not actually one. Does that make any sense?"
Five days from now Williams will be arrested, booked and detained for several hours after refusing to sign a traffic ticket in Austin. At a press conference Haslett will remark as to how "Ricky needs to grow up some, obviously." Franklin, seeing Williams's mug shot on a TV newscast, will let out a laugh, recalling the nutty character from training camp. Today, however, all that is in the future, and the future, well, when you're Ricky Williams, it's often best not to worry about any time but the present.
Williams stands and offers his hand. A little earlier he had been upset with a parking valet for calling him "Rick," but he has put that episode behind him, and he's feeling better now. You shake hands and give him a smile. You thank him for his time. "Sorry if I was being negative," you say.
"Write a good story about me," Williams says, nodding as if he means it, "or I'll hunt you down and beat the f—- out of you."
Williams is joking, of course. At least he'd better be.