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He looked like he might cry. Maybe I would later. Just not now. Not in front of the players. I was the coach. A tough guy.
Another inherited trait.
“How?” I said.
“They say he drowned.”
Three
DANNY WOLF STARED DOWNat the field from the floor-to-ceiling window behind his desk, watching the Wolves practice.
His general manager, Mike Sawchuck, was standing next to him. This was going to be Mike’s last year with the Wolves, even if the poor bastard didn’t know it yet. Another guy Danny’s father had hired who thought he had more tenure than a Supreme Court justice.
“Your dad loved the view from up here when this was still his office,” Sawchuck said.
Here we go,Danny thought.
Now he contemplated throwing himself out the window.
“It’s not his office anymore,” Danny said, “as often as you seem to forget that fact.”
“C’mon, Danny Boy. I know who’s calling the shots around here now.”
Danny Wolf turned to glare at him.
“How many times do I have to tell you not to call me that?”
“Hey, your dad does.”
“I rest my case.”
“I didn’t come up here looking for a fight,” Sawchuck said. “We’re a team, you and me.”
I should fire his ass now.
“Not fighting, Mike,” Danny said. “Just explaining. And not to put too fine a point on things, you and I aren’t a team. We werenevera team. You’re an employee.”
They both watched now as the team’s aging quarterback, Ted Skyler, wildly overthrew the team’s number one draft choice, DeLavarious Harmon.
Harmon had been wide open behind the defense twenty yards down the field. Skyler threw it thirty, at least. Ted Skyler had stayed around too long; the general manager had stayed around far too long. So had Joe Wolf. Sometimes this place felt like the NFL version of an assisted-living facility.
Sometimes when Mike Sawchuck started to get weepy about the good old days, Danny wanted to throwhimout the window in front of them.
“Lot of new guys this season,” Sawchuck said, desperate to change the subject back to football. “But even if we get off to a slow start, in our division we’re still gonna have a shot. I don’t see anybody running away with the thing.”
“Really. Even with Gramps still under center?”
“Danny,” Sawchuck said, “you’re the one who wanted to give Ted one more year.”
“No,” Danny Wolf snapped at Sawchuck. “No, you and my father wanted to give him one more year and convinced me to go along.” He put a hand to his heart. “All so we could win one for Joe.”
“I thought that’s what we all wanted.”
“Get over it.”
Sawchuck said he was going downstairs to watch the end of practice from the field. As soon as he was out the door, Danny’s cell phone rang. He picked it up, saw who was calling.
“Talk to me.”
