Robofootball: Doublespin

As usual, the lake was quiet, hardly a ripple. Even when the wind whipped up, it barely spread a 2 inch lazy wave across the lake, and as the wind slackened, the water froze into a tranquil stillness. Something about a view with water, even with an elevation point only 20 feet up, but throw in a little sand, some trees, a few tiny quaint houses or more appropriate, cabins, and no tacky mobile homes or manufactured houses, and the scene was spectacular in a simplistic way, even despite a few dark clouds building in the West.

“I made a CD for us,” Jess said proudly.

“My stereo does have a slot for one,” Carly answered thoughtfully.

“Yeah mine too, but this truck is so old that it doesn’t have an IPod or MP3 player jack, hell, it won’t even play the CD-RW’s.”

“Wow, that is old,” laughed Carly. Both of their parents had good-size CD collections, but it seemed like a generation thing, namely theirs. Carly had been to antique shops with her mother along with an occasional garage/yard/rummage/estate sale. She could recall her mother explaining vinyl records and music that was once recorded on cheap magnetic tape. Nowadays, her generation walked around with thousands of songs on tiny designer thumb-sized drives, the same that had become so dense with memory that, they came with optional screens with the ability to hold hundreds of digital movies too. DVD drives and DVD’s themselves would soon be obsolete, even the so-called higher resolution Blu-Ray disks; all could be recorded in great quantity on a little stick that one could easily lose in a pocket or purse.

“Is it make-out music?” Carly inquired with a sly expectant smile.

“Sort of I guess,” Jess blushed.

“And you made it just for ’US’?” She prodded.

“Yeah.”

“Hmm, let’s hear it then.”

“It’s kind of an odd mix, not your usual stuff,” he said as he slipped the disk into the slim, narrow slot. The CD player in the truck grabbed it like a hungry communion wafer once it was halfway there. A somewhat haunting song with a mellow caring male voice blared out a song called “Alone So Far”.

Carly listened intently, “Who sings this?”

“A group called the Old 97’s.”

“I thought they were sort of like a country group.”

“I think they are.”

“But this sounds more like rock or pop rock or something.”

“Yeah, there’s this CD of my dad’s called “Fight Songs,” some of ’em are country, but there’s two or three like this one.”

“Are they on here too?”

“Yeah, a little further down, one called “Jagged” and another is “What We Talked About.”

“What did we talk about?”

Jess laughed, “No silly, the name of the song is ‘What We Talked About’.”

“Oh,” she laughed too. She was impatient much as 16 year olds are fraught with, and she hit the button for the next track. A peppy little rock ballad sprang forth that was somewhat old fashioned, heavy on the guitar, and old school key-boarding. “Wow, I don’t recognize this one at all, but I like it.”

“Yeah I do too, it’s “Me and My Baby” by the Red Elvises.”

“Red Elvises?”

“Some weird guys from Russia I think according to my dad. I guess he saw them perform once or twice at a club in Traverse City. He swears that it was the best rock concert he’s ever been to. He’s got a bunch of their CD’s, t-shirts too.”

“Is there more of them too?”

“Two more I think, one called “Don’t Stop the Dance” and the other is “Lorraine” I think. I tried to pick out the slower ones.”

“That’s two ‘thinks’, you’ve been thinking too much dear!”

“That’s not what my coach says.”

“Hmm, maybe these coaches are smarter than I thought,” Carly let the song play out and then it switched to the 3rd one. “Hey, I think I know this one, that’s ‘The Fratellis’ right?”

“Yup, ‘Whistle for the Choir’,” said Jess.

“Sad, their first CD was great, super fast moving, but after that, a little disappointing.”

“My dad said the same thing.”

Carly nudged the next track forwarding button and a slow somewhat sad song about high school days with a tinge of regret poured out softly from the speakers. She looked up and outside the front window in the distance. The clouds were inexorably moving toward them as a drop or two of rain punched the hood top and then the windshield with a delayed pop, then another, but only one at a time as 2 to 3 seconds seemed to pass interminably between the pops. At least the stereo system wasn’t too bad for a truck, 2 speakers in the dash and 2 more in the doors. “I don’t recognize this one either.” She let it play out as she snuggled closer to Jess. He responded a little hesitantly and then swung his wiry arm around her.

“It’s a song called ‘Here’s Looking at You Kid’ by The Gaslight Anthem.”

“Never heard of them,” Carly answered. She noticed that Jess winced some as she nestled her head into his side. “Are you okay this time?”

“Yeah, healing just fine. You know we finished 5-4 this year, but in a way, I’m almost glad we missed the playoffs.”

“Really? Why?”

“Just to get some rest I think,” he said somewhat somberly.

“At least until basketball season?”

“I guess,” he grinned. “Basketball shouldn’t be so bad.”

“Let’s see, you had this massive bruise on your chest, probably some lightly cracked ribs, a sore ankle for awhile, and your bell rung how many times?”

“You mean my head?”

“No, your little toe dummy, I’m sure you’d have a bigger concussion there.”

“Well yeah, I did get sacked a few times, happens to every quarterback.”

“I did read up some more on football injuries.”

“I kind of thought you would.”

“It’s not very encouraging. Aside from all of the usual bruises, broken bones, and concussions, there does seem to be a lot of permanent damage suffered in the long run, especially the longer one plays.”

“Like what?”

“The CDC reports lower life expectancy and premature deaths from such things like obesity, dementia, Alzheimer’s, heart disease, stroke, and on and on.”

“What’s the CDC again?”

“The Center for Disease Control in short, it’s at the national level, you know, the doctors in those space suits you see in the movies when something horrible breaks out?”

“Diseases? I don’t get what that has to do with football.”

Carly sighed, “HEART DISEASE” she said as she placed special emphasis on the words. “Alzheimer’s is a DISEASE, and this one Mendoza Report says that over one-third of NFL players within 10 years of retirement are showing MCI, that’s Mild Cognitive Impairment, a basic form of dementia that can lead to Alzheimer’s. Football players are just getting hit in the head too much, over and over again, in practice, in games, week after week, year after year, it all adds up and apparently takes a severe toll in the long run. Are you listening to me Jess?”

“Hmm,” he sort of grunted.

“Jess, these reports are serious. This Senator Margaret Leahy from Arkansas seems to be running a campaign to get football banned.”

“I guess.”

“From what I can see, this senator and the CDC are teaming up to outlaw football in America. It’s not an intended pun, but this latest Mendoza Report is a real killer.”

Jess laughed, “Outlaw football? I’d have to see that to believe it.”

Carly sat conflicted as the noisy drops on the hood and windshield were becoming a bit more frequent, a few per second instead of the reverse. She knew that sports were very important to Jess and may even lead to a potential scholarship for him. The future was cloudy too and hung around their relationship as well. Could Jess be the one? Was it too early to tell? Or was this just a little boy-girl girl-boy high school relationship that would fizzle out in a few months? Her mother seemed to think so and had told Carly numerous times that the college years would be the best ones for dating, playing the field, a much more choice one at that given the higher gene pool, getting more experience, and then hone in on Mr. Right, someone with potential who was going places, not some hick from Harrison.

But damn she thought, Jess was cute, shy, perhaps not an elite gifted honor student at her level, but certainly not stupid either, and he was flirting with a 3.3 GPA while taking many of the tougher courses too, maybe not the AP Honors variety, but enough so that he would score okay on the upcoming ACT, at least above the school and national average. He could make in college she thought, maybe not medical school which would be her intended track, but there was always business for the academic lightweights who avoided math and science at all costs, dropping America a little further behind the world, one course at a time. There was no doubt about his physical talent. College scouts were already taking notice of him in 3 separate sports, not to mention a pro scout or two in baseball. Above all, he was very sweet, and treated her kindly. She could do worse she thought. She did know one thing, and that was the fact that he would be her first, maybe in the winter at some point. The more they kissed, the more the heat coursed through her body, staining her panties in ways she could never tell her mother! Hormones could only be tamed for so long before they broke out in all of their wild agony. She would relent and at least take her mother up on the offer to begin the birth control pill daily regimen.

“Okay, that was ‘Trouble with Love’ back a ways by Kelly Clarkson, she was the first American Idol winner a long time ago. The one after that is ‘Hey There Delilah’ by the Plain White T’s, and then ‘Pretty Baby’ by The Spin Doctors. But I don’t get this one.”

“Not bad,” said Jess. “It’s a song called ‘Run’ by Collective Soul. “I wish I could sing as smooth as the guy on there.”

“Really? Would you give up your sports ability for one in music?”

“I suppose not.”

“I didn’t think so, can’t be talented at everything you know.”

“Yeah I suppose.”

Carly pushed the forward button again, “That’s ‘Runaway Train’ by Soul Asylum, kind of an oldie but a goodie.

“Yeah, I threw some older stuff at the end, some ’90’s and even some ’80’s stuff. There’s ‘Patience’ by Guns ’N Roses, a couple by U2, and this old group called Journey.

“Yeah I know Journey, which one?”

“’Open Arms’,” I think.

“I like that one,” said Carly as she pressed into him again which was promptly followed by another wince and a light squelched groan from Jess.

“It still hurts doesn’t it?”

“Yeah, but the season is over.”

“Probably not soon enough,” said Carly. “I like the end of this one, Franz Ferdinand isn’t it?”

“Yes, it’s called ‘Come on Home’.” The next song followed.

“Dang Jess, you squeezed a lot of stuff on this CD.”

“Yeah, used every minute, I was going to put ‘Stacy’s Mom’ at the end but I had to cut something, wasn’t sure if it went with the theme I was going with.”

“Theme huh? That’s impressive. Hey, what’s this song? I really like it. The woman singing sounds like some old bluesy smooth version of Janice Joplin.”

“It’s Raining.”

“Yes, Jess, I know, I can see and feel the drops.”

He laughed out loud which was a rarity for him given that he erred on the quiet side. “That’s the name of the song silly, that’s the second time you did that.”

She laughed too, “That’s really good, especially since it is raining outside, who’s the singer?”

“I’m not really sure, it’s a group called ‘The Detroit Cobras.’ I really don’t know much about them.”

“From your dad’s collection I take it?”

“Yup.”

“Well, he has some neat unique stuff in there. I think that song is my favorite, can you play it again?”

“Sure,” Jess said as he reached over her head and hit the backtrack button, but just then, his cell rang.

“Dad?”

“Yeah Jess, it’s me.”

“What’s up?”

“Your mother is in the hospital again.”

Jess lightly pressed Carly away as she drifted back a few inches once she saw the look of concern on his face. “What’s the matter?” She whispered.

“What happened?” Jess spoke into the little rectangular box.

“She found another lump or a mass is what the doctor’s are calling it.”

“Oh,” said Jess somewhat crestfallen. His mom had just had surgery to remove one of her breasts last year, and the prognosis had seemed to be positive but with cancer, one never knew, and once one had a go-around with it, the probability of returning was that much greater.

“You should probably get over here, they’re going to do emergency surgery.”

“In Clare, right?”

“Yes.”

“Okay, I’m on my way.”

“Okay, bye.”

“Bye dad,” Jess hit a button to turn the phone off.

“What is it?” Carly almost screamed.

“It’s my mom.”

“What’s the matter?”

“She’s undergoing emergency surgery, sounds like her cancer came back.”

“Oh no Jess, I’m sorry, can I go with you?”

“I don’t know, these things can take a long time. I’m not sure when I could come back.”

“When is the surgery?”

“Today, tonight, soon, I don’t know for sure. I’ve got to get to the hospital.”

“Okay, maybe drop me off at home. But call me when you get time, okay?”

“Okay.” Jess shivered, shut the music off, and turned the ignition key. For later November, it had been a relatively warm day, high 50’s, and, despite the rain, with the doors and windows closed, they did not need to run the heater. All of a sudden however, Jess felt a bit of a chill. His mother wouldn’t make it through the week.

“The very first essential for success is a perpetually constant and regular employment of violence.”

Adolf Hitler, Mein Kampf