Robofootball: Doublespin

The following week, Reynolds said his good-byes but not before bearing gifts.

“What about my contract?” Antwan was saying.

“I’m taking you off the field as we discussed, one season was enough with you and the kid. Anyhow, got a new gig for you, gonna get you a raise too Antwan.”

“Oh yeah? I’m listenin’.”

“I’m leaving for Vegas, gonna run Mr. Verlucci’s interests from there at the Venetian, sports betting, shit, the stuff is legal out there.”

“So what ’bout me?”

“The team’s going to need a new head coach,” Reynolds let it sink in.

“What ’bout the Gorilla dude and the Dinosaur?”

“They’re good guys, you should keep’em, wouldn’t want to make Mr. Verlucci unhappy now, they’re relatives, and family is very important. Dino’s getting on some, but he’s a wise old ass, can teach you a lot about D. A coach has to do a lot more.”

“Uh huh?”

“Deal with Doc Holliday and Yuri, budgeting too, and building a new team for next year. The Jappers will probably have Gen 4’s before you know it. We or you’re going to need a new quarterback, a receiver too! I had a generous budget and with all the money pouring in from the big game, I believe that Mr. Verlucci upped a little more for next season. He likes a winner.”

“Yeah, yeah, I can handle it.”

“I hope so, there’s a lot of pressure like you wouldn’t believe, but I wouldn’t offer it to you if I didn’t think so.”

“You said something about a raise?”

“How much?” Reynolds shot back.

“150 G’s.”

“That’s pretty steep, 50% more that what you make now,” Reynolds wasn’t that bright with math, but when it came to money, the Verlucci’s, along with those who had a relationship with them, even if it wasn’t marked directly in blood, had a way with money, profit and percentages. When it came right down to it, it was little different from corporate America on general. “How about $110?” Reynolds countered, “That’s 10%.”

“140.”

“120.”

“130.”

“125.”

“Okay, a buck and a quawta,” Antwan grinned, “Still got my guaranteed 4 mo’ years?”

Reynolds stuck out his hand, “Deal,” and they shook on it. It was a different kind of shake as the cold steel-titanium alloy from Antwan’s right prosthetic hand connected with his own. Reynolds would have doubled Antwan’s salary if he had started higher, but dealing was part of his business, any why give up points if someone was content without them?

“How about the kid? You gonna hook him up? He got nuthin.”

“That’s another loose end I want you to help me with.”

“Yeah?”

“We got the lawyers working on getting all of his identity shit back together again. That girl of his already got him a tentative tryout for the Michigan baseball team. He’s got to finish his GED, but he’s only a credit or two off from graduating high school. His SAT or ACT scores were okay when he took the test the first time and he got good grades in high school. Michigan was scouting him out for both football and baseball, hell, maybe even basketball too. Anyhow, if he gets in, he’s going to be the first recipient of the new Vincent Verlucci Athletic Memorial Scholarship Fund. We gave them the money but have the final say in who gets it. If we grease their palms a bit, I think the kid will get in, money talks.”

“Okay, sounds good,” said Antwan. “He still need to live, get a place, get some wheels, a phone, ya know.”

“I was thinking of making him an assistant coach, maybe you can use him on the field as the team rep. The dude we had is gone now, off to Florida, he wasn’t a relative of the Verlucci’s any way.”

“He get a salary?”

“Sure, I don’t know, 50K a year sound all right?”

“With the scholarship too?”

“Of course, but you can work out a salary in your budget, make him an employee of the team. I’ll get you set up with the bean counters.”

“Yeah, it all good then.”

“In his appreciation, Mr. Verlucci would also like to give you each a car from his personal collection, but it does come with a small price.”

“Hmm, you told him about us?”

“Yeah, I’m leaving for Vegas, I didn’t want any more surprises or loose ends, best that he knows in case something comes up. By the way, you have a meeting with Mr. Verlucci next Tuesday afternoon at 2:00 p.m., don’t be late.”

“We jus’ need to keep quiet about it all, right?”

“Smart man,” Reynolds said, “I’ll leave you to tell the kid.”

“He knows.”

“Yeah, but a little reminder never hurt, he can’t tell his girl either, loose lips sink ships.”

“Yeah, he knows, I’ve already tol’ him many times, he cool.”

“Okay, I’ll get contracts and budgets over to you. Doc Holliday has a new kid in need of a sponsor, some Korean or Thai kid, got a great idea for a quarterback model over at Kettering. You’re going to love his name.”

“What is it?”

“Ho Chit.”

“Ho? And like Shit?”

“No, CHIT.”

“Like Chitlins?”

“Yeah, I guess, but the kicker is his middle name, ‘Li’, pronounced ‘Lee’.”

“Ho Lee Chit?”

Reynolds laughed, “Yup, but Doc Holliday says that the Chit kid has a complicated design with more intricate gears than a space shuttle or a Swiss watch, Holliday’s words, not mine. Holliday can fill you in on all that scholarship sponsorship crap, you just need to get him some money.”

“You shall not bow down to them or worship them; for I, the LORD your God, am a jealous God, punishing the children for the sin of the fathers to the third and fourth generation of those who hate me.”

The Bible, Exodus, 20:5