Robofootball: Doublespin

They woke up to the buzz of an intercom at 7:00 a.m. the next morning. Lenny’s arm was pleasantly sore and stiff as he carefully slid it out from a dark mass of ruffled hair. “Damn it,” Lenny said aloud and tapped the button on the wall, “Yes?”

“Good morning senator,” a motherly voice chimed in.

“Oh, good morning Florence.”

“It is 7 a.m. sir.”

“So it is, I’m sorry Florence, is it possible to say, get breakfast in bed?” It was an unusual request for a man who took breakfast downstairs ordinarily at 6 a.m., even on weekends.

“Of course sir.”

“For two?”

There was a brief pause, “Very good sir, would half an hour suffice?”

“Yes, that sounds perfect,” he looked back as Isabelle rolled over looking in his direction with big saucer-like dark sleepy eyes before the voice returned on the intercom.

“Anything in particular?”

“Surprise me, a variety would be nice.” He had no idea what Izzy might like for breakfast.

“Very good sir,” and the voice clicked off.

“Good morning sunshine,” he said.

“Good morning, do you have to go?” She said as she sat up.

“No, not yet, it’s Sunday morning you know, I think I’m actually going to stay home today.” He sat, paused, and looked confused, trying to remember the last time he hadn’t gone in to his office on both weekend days let alone every week day.

“I must look a mess,” she yawned.

“I can’t recall the last time something looked this good in my bed, you look as stunning as last night,” he said and meant it in a relative way. Her thick long hair was tangled some, a little dark eye-liner had run down the sides of her eyes, but when one of her breasts revealed itself despite a somewhat inverted nipple, it coaxed him into action in his own private area.

“Shh, you’ll say anything, come back here.”

“We have half an hour before breakfast arrives.”

“You men, always so optimistic, I’ll take 5 minutes darling and then jump in the shower, can you handle that?” She reached down and gave him a few quick but gentle pulls and answered her own question. “My, my, aren’t we frisky? Come on big boy,” she added and lay on her back.

Seven minutes later, she was in the shower and he followed when she exited without turning the water off. She wrapped a towel around her head, slipped into his bath robe and answered the door while he was drying.

“Oh,” was all Florence said as the elderly woman was caught off guard despite knowing that a woman was here. Ronald had actually been the first to clue her in.

“Hello, I’m Isabelle.” She would have held out a hand, but Florence’s were full. Florence was about the same short height as Isabelle, but she had arms that a Russian peasant woman carrying an enormous soup kettle would have been envious of.

“Florence.”

“Well good morning Florence, can I help you with that?”

“No, no, just clear a spot on the bed maybe.” The plump woman was strong and stout, but the massive dome-covered silver tray nearly dwarfed her. Isabelle quickly spread the covers forward as Florence deposited the tray and removed the cover.

“That looks fabulous,” Isabelle was impressed that so much had fit. Two steaming cups of coffee on a small tray with miniature creamers and sugars in sterling silver were accompanied by juice glasses of freshly squeezed oranges, oatmeal scones, a meat platter with sausage and bacon, a bowl of scrambled eggs, and a fresh fruit bowl too with apples and bananas.

“Just buzz the intercom dear if you need anything else.”

“Thank you so much Florence.” The woman waddled out and closed the door quietly behind her. Isabelle grabbed a slice of bacon and said aloud, “There’s a lot here that’s going right to the hips.”

“What’s that?” Lenny came out of the bathroom wrapped in a large beach-sized towel and grinned, “So that’s what happened to my robe.”

“Sorry.”

“That’s okay, you look adorable, now what did you say?”

“Just thinking aloud.”

“I heard something about hips.”

“Yes, this food is going to end up there.”

“All the more for my personal pleasure!”

She grabbed a scone and was about the throw it at him, but once she got a closer whiff of it, it just smelled too good. She took a tentative bite, “Mmm, that is damn good, maybe a little butter, just a touch.” Sure enough there were butter pats in another dish next to the scones. “I could get used to this,” she added.

“I think I can get used to you too,” he said while grabbing a mug of coffee.

“Sure, tell me anything slick.”

“Is that a reference to my hair?”

“No, just your smooth talk, but hang on, do you use a little hair gel?”

“Yeah, you know, my campaign manager, makes stylist appointments for me you know. A little gel keeps it in place. I have a lot of stuff that I forget what it’s for.”

“Yes, I saw some of that in there, at least its manly stuff. I didn’t see any traces of a woman, lucky you, you know!”

“Oh really?”

“Yes, really.”

He sighed, “That’s because there hasn’t been one here for years, until you.”

“You okay with that?” She said a little garbled, trying to talk with hamster cheeks full of scone.

“Yes, I think so, it’s well, nice, really nice.”

“Okay.”

“If you have to get or be somewhere, let me know, Ronald’s a quick call away, button two.”

“Trying to get rid of me? Love’m and leave’m?” She cupped a false hurtful attitude.

“No, not at all, I was hoping you would stay a little longer.”

“It is Sunday, nothing pressing, just another hearing coming up….”

“Football?”

“You guessed it, what is it in my life that drove me to be the CDC spokesperson for football injuries? I’ve never really been much into the sports scene, don’t have any particular grudges either like that Senator Leahy. We did expect the NFL and NCAA to fight back.”

“There’s no one better and I can say that first hand! Aside from being, how do you put it, ah yes, a classic Spanish beauty, there’s a rather brilliant mind in there, brains and beauty. I’m a lucky guy.”

“I suppose you are,” she grinned.

“No argument here.”

“There’s nothing pressing for me, I have a couple of weeks to prepare, but I don’t think there’s much new that I haven’t covered before, the facts speak for themselves. I mean how many thousands of injuries, broken bones, head traumas, early deaths, and on and on do I have to repeatedly talk about?”

“I may have a little related insider information.”

“Oh? Care to share?”

“I can trust you to keep it quiet?”

“By now I would hope so, plus I’m not all that friendly with the media. I’ve turned down so many exclusives so to speak that most of the networks stop asking, it’s not like I’m some bigwig popular politician looking for some free press time! We just send them our CDC reports every so often, it’s all public information anyhow, but whatcha got?”

“For years now as you know, I’ve been tapped to lead these committees on injuries in sports, it started when I was a House Rep. I didn’t know in the beginning that Margaret Leahy was secretly targeting football for extinction at the time.”

“I know, if you think about it, it’s kind of how we met.”

“Yes, a bright spot in some of the dark areas that have conflicted me. I grew up living football and spent 4 years of high school and 4 years of college devoting an awful lot of time to the sport though I kept up good grades too.”

“Mixed emotions?”

“To say the very least.”

But something has changed?”

“Much.”

“You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to, but I can keep a secret.”

“Yes Izzy, I trust you, and it’s good to be able to talk to someone about it, especially someone of your stature.”

“This is good, almost as good as those physical compliments!”

He smiled, “Yes, but I believe that we are now closer than ever to achieving a total ban on the sport of football despite all of the lawsuits filed.”

She paused, wondering what new information he had as her rational mind took control. “Obviously, we’ve been advocating that for years at the CDC, and when OSHA jumped on the bandwagon, we think it’ll eventually be banned too. I’m sure you’ve read all of our past reports.”

“Several times over.”

“But what’s changed from the usual dogma?”

“You’ve heard of that class action suit filed by former NFL players?”

“Of course, it’s been bogged down in court for years, but OSHA has used some of their findings in their own safety positions.”

“Not any more, my source tells me that the U.S. Supreme Court is finally going to take it on.”

“And when is this expected to happen? The way the NFL has been able to delay things with us, the filed motions, counter-motions, appeals, new lawsuits, and on, and on, will it be 1 year, 2 years, 5?”

“Next week.”

“Whoa, are you sure?”

“One of the assistant clerks to Justice Hayes was a former aide of mine. We keep in touch.”

“I see, guess you can’t be a senator without connections, and the current makeup of the court happens to be 5 liberal-minded justices and 4 conservatives.”

“Yes, have you read the actual filings?”

“No, we usually don’t get access to court documents unless we request them for some reason or are pulled in as expert witnesses.”

“A lot of that suit is based on your research, as far as I know, you’re quoted more than anyone else.”

“Really, give me the short version.”

“A lot of it has to do with money.”

“Naturally, it’s the American way.”

“Yup, follow the money. And that’s probably where you’re left in the dark. I’ve met repeatedly with the NFL owners through the year and they’re not a happy lot.”

“Oh?”

“It shattered back in 2010 around 8 years ago. A dozen former NFL players and their families with severe career-ending injuries filed a class action lawsuit against the NFL. The majority suffered some sort of serious head trauma.”

“Yes, I remember it, didn’t they win their suit and were paid off? It’s what the NFL usually does to hush things up.”

“The owners made some preliminary payments, a few million dollars here and there; however, they tied it up in the courts with appeal after appeal. They kept losing, but now things have gotten much worse for them, especially since the CDC and OSHA have come forward.”

“How so?”

“Hundreds more have joined in and according to my source, the judgment may be the first multi-billion dollar class action case in United States history. The figure is staggering and worth more than the value of all the NFL teams combined.”

“What’ll happen if they lose?”

“Supreme Court rulings are generally permanent and appeals are refused to be heard for years or even decades. From what I gather, several owners will dump their teams like a bad overhead mortgage. There will be pay cuts, medical insurance that may be unobtainable, labor strikes, defaults, and if the game perchance did continue, box office ticket increases would be so huge that it would erode the fan base. That may all be moot if the banning of the sport demanded by CDC and OSHA goes through, but it might even pave the way for you given the negativity.”

“I can’t say I’m surprised,” answered Isabelle. “I started tracking concussion data back in 2005 and found some 70,000 football related concussions suffered every year when you look at all levels from pee-wee to pro. The most severe have led to permanent brain damage and even death. We’ve struggled with many secondary relations like depression, suicide, drug overdoses, alcoholism, brain diseases like dementia and CTE.”

“What is CTE?” Lenny inquired, he didn’t recall hearing or reading about that abbreviation.

“Chronic Traumatic Encephalopathy, a degenerative brain disease that attacks the portion of the brain that controls emotion, memory, impulse control, and addictive behavior. As you can surmise, it is brought on my too many blows to the head. These conditions manifest themselves later after the stitches, bruises, broken bones, and busted teeth have healed or have been repaired. CTE is the more advanced form of MCI.”

“Wait, I think I know that some, some sort of cognitive immobility or something?”

“Close Lenny! It stands for Mild Cognitive Impairment, a form of dementia that can lead to CTE or Alzheimer’s, or even both. NFL players have a much smaller reserve of healthy brain tissue compared to the general population who haven’t played football. Consistent head trauma tears nerve connections which leads to dead tissue. Football players have a lot more of it and helmets do little to protect against it. We can talk about tau next if you wish!”

“Oh no, am I about to be embarrassed again?”

“It’s my field of expertise and I did go to a real school you know, not that 2nd tier Harvard High or whatever you call it!” She teased. “On a more serious note, you get the somewhat watered down version, generic reports or what not; the scientific stuff is in our files, we have mountains and mountains of data. You wouldn’t believe how many big magnetic hard drives the size of turbines that we have measured in terabytes and even petabytes.”

“All right, tell me all about tau aside from it being a Greek letter down the chain a bit.”

“Tau in a plural sense are tiny brownish bits of toxic protein in the brain that choke off life at the cellular level.”

“Let me guess, football players are loaded with it.”

“Yes, very good, they show up most prevalently when we take cross-sections of the brains of football players.”

“I’m sure the lawyers have all of this information and more.”

“I hate to say it because I have my own mixed feelings about it,” Isabelle said seriously.

“Say what?”

“I’ve always been one to tout freedom, things like choice, a woman’s choice to have an abortion for instance. I support euthanasia too though we haven’t tackled that one yet from a legislative perspective. It people want to drink, smoke, or even take recreational drugs, I say do it in the privacy of your home, just don’t get on the road and take someone out.”

“My god, you’re a closet liberal!”

“In some regards, like freedom of choice, yes.”

“Is this leading to football?”

“Yes, for a long time, I felt that people, namely boys and men, should have the freedom to choose whether or not to play most any sports, including football, but with the years of research I’ve done with the CDC, I don’t believe it any longer.”

“Anything in particular change your mind?”

“Probably the letters I’ve received from mothers, a few from fathers too. I mentioned that I am not able to have children, so it can be hard for me to relate some to the parent-child bond. Statistics can be rather impersonal, but on a close personal level, these accidents, concussions, brain damage, behavioral problems, coma and death have left many with a feeling of helplessness. The peer pressure to play football, especially for kids who are physically larger, is enormous, but it is not unprecedented in history for one to be recruited for their physical prowess.”

“Yes, warriors, samurai, wrestlers, soldiers, Olympians, and, well you know Izzy, have always been idolized. Hell, we make heroes and statues out of them.”

“Sorry to go on, you know I get caught up in this stuff a bit too much. I think I’ll be happy some day that it’s over, I am getting burned out.”

“You may get your wish soon enough. But hey, I’ve learned all sorts of new 3-letter words that are more damaging than 4-letters! CTE, MCI, and Tau.”

“Not to sound like a doomsday prophet, but do you really think the end is near?”

“The short answer yes. If this multi-billion lawsuit is upheld, it’ll create an unsustainable financial backlash. Like I said, follow the money. Many owners tolerate unprofitable sports franchises just for the prestige factor of owning a team. Once you start getting 10-figure losses, they’ll bail out like passengers on a sinking ship. If the pros fold, college will go down with the ship too; after all, college football is little more than a minor league extension of the pros. The owners are considering a declaration of bankruptcy if the suit is upheld, rather than pay up of course. I’ve heard another rumor too that may have been inspired by you.”

“Oh?”

“The establishment of an RFL.”

“Uh oh, now you have me for a loss, and a 3-letter term at that!”

“The Robotic Football League as a possible replacement for the NFL.”

“Hmm, I have advocated that the technology is there to replace men with machines.”

“Yes, and I’ve heard that the owner of the Dallas Cowboys, has already contracted with the Japanese to start building players, something about generation one robotic soccer players being adapted to the American style of football.”

“It could be a viable substitute for saving the sport.”

“So I’ve heard from a super sexy intelligent source.”

“Who might that be?”

“Jennifer.”

“What? Jennifer who? What are you talking about?”

“Just kidding Izzy, it’s you of course.”

She slugged him.

“How do you catch a living bra? With a Booby trap!”

Antwan Randall Jackson