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Wednesday, January 7, 2015

Irving Titans, Football, NFL, Irving,Texas

IRVING TITANS UPDATE! It has been loaded up to Amazon. Waiting on them to approve it for preorder. Launch date is January 24th! Here's another chapter.



One Week Later

“Robert, you’re such a dear. However can Charlene repay you?”

He zipped his jeans up then pulled his shirt on. “I think you’re paid in full.”

“Are you sure?” She jiggled her chest at him.

“Well, maybe we can have a threesome some day. I know the perfect gal. She’s a waitress at…”

The smile from her face vanished. She moved to within six inches of his sweating body and sucker punched him. He bent over gasping for breath.

“Look here, Robert Shit. If Charlene isn’t enough for you, maybe your girlfriend or even better, your current employer would like to know what you do on your days off.”

The fire evaporated from his eyes. “Charlene, if you weren’t so damn good, I’d…”

“You’d what? Find another bimbo to bang? Fat chance. I’ve got you by the short hairs and don’t think I won’t yank on them.”

“Fine, fine. It was only an idea.”

“And an offensive one at that. I do have standards, Robert.” Her voice returned to her sultry self. She rubbed up against him with her hand massaging his crotch. “Aren’t you forgetting something?”

He removed the tape from his shirt pocket. “When do you think you’ll use it?”

“Don’t worry yourself with things you don’t understand.” She walked over to her purse and dropped it in, then moved back to him re-cupping his crotch. “I think this deserves a small celebration.” She unzipped his jeans sliding her mouth down his chest.

He could only utter two words, Oh shit!

* * *

“Reuben, sooner or later the press is going to get wind of what’s up.”

“Marshall, that’s my problem, not yours.”

“I’ll disagree with that. I’ve moved out of Florida and bought a new house here.”

“You did what? Was I not specific about housing? No one is supposed to buy a house until I make the announcement. I can control a lot of things, but I can’t control County Records, you idiot! Firing Coach Osborn is going to be delicate enough, without the press finding out you purchased a home in Preston Oaks. How long do you think before someone looking for their five minutes of fame will leak the story?”

“Hang on a minute. I told you when I took the job I was going to buy a house. If you thought we were going to live in an extended stay for another six months, you lost your fucking mind. A few months are okay, but we’ve had enough. You don’t live with Rachael. She was going stir crazy in that two-thousand square foot dump.”

“Maybe you should have left her in Florida. There are plenty of hot things running around this town. Who wouldn’t give up their virginity to the top coach in college football?”

“Look, Reuben. I can get whatever I want on the side, but leaving her isn’t an option. You think she wouldn’t rake my ass over the coals and take over half of my hard earned money? If so, then you aren’t as smart as I thought.”

“Alright, alright. This isn’t getting us anywhere. I’ll have to move my timetable up. And you’re right. We have a team to rebuild and having you going through a divorce in Florida would cause unnecessary delays. Now, what about the upcoming draft? Have you identified who we’re targeting?”

“Yes. The kid from UCLA, Sammy Holmes. He’s the gunslinger we want.”

“What makes him so special? Is this the same kid who transferred from Kansas?”

“Yes. When he realized the passing game would never work out there under Coach Barringer, he transferred out west and flourished.”

“What about the kids from USC and Notre Dame?”

“The kid from USC is a real head case. He knows where he wants to play and it’s not in Irving. Also, I don’t want to get in a bidding war with other teams. His agent is a real ass. I need the kid we draft on board from day one. The kid from Notre Dame is too short. No, we want the one from UCLA.”

“Okay. Put him on the board as number one. What about receivers, offensive lineman and the whole damn defense?”

“Reuben, you worry too much. I’ve already pegged the players we want.”

“How do you know they’ll be around when it’s our turn to pick?”

“Reuben, we’ve got thirteen first round picks. What do you think?”

“Yes we do. Okay, what about a running back?”

“I’m not worried about that right now. I need to establish a minor passing game and a strong offensive line before we go chasing the top backs. I’ve got my eye on a kid from South Carolina, but he’s not coming out this year. Something about actually wanting to get a degree or some shit like that.”

“Seriously? The kid wants to obtain a degree? Since when did an education pay-off on the field?”

“None that I can think of.”

“Exactly. I hope he doesn’t get hurt. If he does, what’s your back-up plan?”

“Don’t have one yet.”

“I suggest you get one.”

* * *

I was drinking a cold beer watching my favorite movie, Patton, when the phone rang.

“This is Jimmy.”

“This is Coach Williams.”


“Coach Williams. I’m the new quarterback coach for the Titans.”

“You’re shitting me?”

“Why would I do that?”

“Because we don’t have a Coach Williams.” This guy’s starting to piss me off.

“Says who, asshole.”

“Says the new owner.”

“Yeah, well, I haven’t heard a word about it and until Coach Osborn tells me otherwise, do me a favor, Coach.”

“What’s that?”

“Go fuck yourself. You’re interrupting, Patton.” I hung up thinking the voice sounded a bit familiar.

Skip Hawkins slammed his phone down. “Dammit. I’ll break that son-of-a-bitch if it’s the last thing I do. He knows more than he’s saying. And, I’ll take that bitch Charlene with him.”

Skip was at the top of his game in 1978 when he ripped open the home town Badgers with the biggest scandal to rock the NCAA since OSU’s fall from grace. He single handedly exposed how the university was paying players with scholarships, cash, cars and girls to propel the university to #1 in the polls. His hard hitting investigative reporting allowed him to almost name his price with the ABC affiliate he worked for.

All of his well laid plans and claim to fame almost came crashing down. As a reporter, he didn’t need to disclose his sources. He never thought a source would threaten to disclose him. But then, he didn’t know Charlene, like he did now.

When he was digging up dirt on the Badgers, one name kept popping up—Charlene Rivers. With a lot of gum-shooing, and for the first time in his career, real investigating, he found her. She was a real looker, but more important, he needed to know what was hiding under her beehive. It took three meetings with her before she laid out the whole scheme. He originally thought the Badgers rise to prominence was based on local exuberant boosters, but when he saw the trail led to the state capitol, he could barely contain himself. It was a story for the ages, and maybe even a shot at the big boys in New York. His price for the information; a harmless tryst with Charlene.

 At first, it was harmless, and then she called. Her message was short and simple: $75,000 a year or she tells his wife the story with pictures, no words.

Since then, he’d been keeping tabs on her and when he realized how much time she spent with Jimmy Stone, it was the perfect sounding box for getting even. He would take every opportunity during his sports cast to point out Jimmy’s pathetic performances. He might not bring her down head-on, but if he could start whittling away at the fringes, he hoped to make her life a little less enjoyable.

He signed his name on the check, placed it in the envelope and stamped it—hard.


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