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Not that I didn’t deserve his wrath because again and again, I had let him down. Playing in high school had been fun, and I had loved the game. Then while still in college, I had signed on with an agent and I was ultimately selected by the Leviathans in the third round of the draft, over five years ago now.
Joining the big leagues had been quite a change. Being in the public eye was stifling, and while I was just known locally more than anything, the tristate area was a pretty big fishbowl. I couldn’t imagine being a famous rockstar or actor, where there was nowhere to hide. All my trysts were now for public consumption, and the women I took home couldn’t necessarily be trusted.
A few months ago, I hit a new low by taking a married woman home. Of course, I didn’t know at the time that she was married, and I wasn’t the one who had broken any vows. Yet suddenly, I had become a social pariah. Luckily, that became old news within a couple of weeks and the press moved on to something else, and I was able to safely return to taking home single women, and once again secure my rep of playboy rather than homewrecker.
Now, I snuck in the back of the room where the coach was meeting with us and sat at an empty desk with a play book on it. Coach was in mid-sentence and glared at me without losing his place. A couple of the guys must have noticed the look because they turned around.
Johnson had a smirk on his face that said, “really dude?” He shook his head. We finished going over the essentials for this week’s game, which took about another 90 minutes. So far it had been bearable.
But then Coach Wells snagged me before we all headed to the locker room to put on gear before getting on the field. He wasn’t as high up as Coach Kramer was, but he still had authority over me. He took me aside and confronted me.
“What are you thinking, Bowman? 4.5 million a year isn’t enough to get you out of bed at a reasonable hour and get your ass here on time?”
“I’m sorry, Coach. I know I fucked up, and I keep fucking up. But I didn’t even take anyone home with me last night. And you know that on the field, I never let you down.”
“That doesn’t matter to me, and that’s not what your contract guarantees us. We are a team, and you owe your teammates your full presence. And how do you imagine I could command the respect of the other guys when I have you acting up without consequence? I don’t need a free-for-all, with all you guys coming and going whenever you damn well please.”
“I know, Coach. I’m sorry. What will my fine be this time?”
“Oh no. We are beyond fines at this point, I’m afraid. You are having a sit down with Coach Kramer after practice and some things are going to be spelled out for you. So, don’t be sneaking out like you tried to come in.”
“Got it, Coach.”
I walked to the locker room wondering what the hell “beyond fines” meant. I had trouble concentrating on the field, knowing this never-ending day was going to get even worse. Honestly, I was worried for my career. But I thought that surely they wouldn’t keep me practicing for the rest of the day if they were letting me go.
After I had showered and changed back to my street clothes, I headed to Coach Kramer’s office. His door was open.
“Coach. You wanted to see me?”
“Ah, Bowman. What is going on with you lately?”
“I’m sorry, Coach.”
He waved me off.
“Yeah, yeah. You always are. So, here’s the thing. While the general manager wants a winning team, they also want to maintain a good image and the press seems to love finding you in all kinds of compromising situations. So, we need to rehabilitate you. There’s a charity, Christmas for Heroes, that is organizing an event in Caldwell in a couple of weeks. They’ve asked for a couple of our players to show up, to guarantee a larger turnout. The team publicist thought this was a great idea, and naturally since Caldwell is your hometown, we thought of you. Now would be a great time for you to improve your image and show your good side to the public. I already know you’re a good kid, deep down. So, go show everyone else.”
“So, no fine, Coach? Just an appearance.”
“That’s right. We’re trying something new for a change, but make no mistakes, this is not us letting you off easy. You will have to commit the larger part of a Sunday to doing something worthwhile, rather than sleeping off another of your crazy Saturday nights. Your contract is currently in an extension, and you probably would have been signed for another five years in April if it weren’t for all the notoriety which follows you around. The franchise is trying to decide if it’s even worth keeping an extremely talented player, who spends his limited free time giving the team a black eye. I don’t need to tell you that we all have a short shelf life in this business, and yours has already been longer than many, considering the circumstances you always seem to find yourself in. Food for thought, Bowman.”
