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“Just off the top of my head.”
He was smiling at me with his eyes. “Right. Couple of dozen names. Just off the top of your head. You have the dates, too?”
“I like football,” I said.
“I can tell. Who’s going to be the new general manager?”
“My brother Thomas. And the team will be a lot better off, frankly.”
“How’s Danny going to respond to all these bombs you’re dropping?”
“I’m hoping badly.”
“I bet Danny as team president would like to install himself as acting general manager,” Ryan said.
“Don’t bet on football.”
We were both sitting on the floor, on either side of my coffee table.
“We’re really going to do this?” he said.
“If you accept.”
He reached across the table. We shook hands.
“I accept,” he said.
“You want to talk about money?”
“We’ll figure it out.”
“How about a dollar more than Dick was making?”
We shook again. He was sitting with his legs crossed and somehow stood up without effort. I asked if he needed a playbook. He said he’d refused to give his old one back after Kopka fired him.
He asked if Kopka was actually planning to start Chase Charles next week.
“He was.”
“At least he’s consistent,” Ryan said. “A meathead until the end.”
Then he said it was going to be a long night. I asked him what his wife was going to say about all this. He said he’d be sure to ask her if he ever made it back to Maui.
“Divorce?”
“She got custody of her trainer.”
I walked him to the door.
“Well, this isn’t going to be dull.”
“For as long as it lasts.”
He smiled.
“Somewhat like a kamikaze mission.”
Twenty-Two
