Robofootball: Doublespin

During the Summer of 2020, Carly and Jess returned to Harrison and the Tuckers allowed Jess to stay with them until he would start school in the Fall. He was somewhat estranged from but at least spoke to his father on occasion. Mike Robinson had still managed to keep his engineering job but barely made it from paycheck to paycheck. He was now living in a cheap crappy efficiency apartment with holes in the walls that was so small, it did not have a bedroom, just a sofa bed in the small living room that connected openly to the kitchen. Other than a tiny bathroom, they were the only two rooms. The place smelled like an ashtray too even though Mike didn’t smoke. He may as well have given the 2nd hand smoke he regularly inhaled at his Friday night card games. The unit was in the basement of a slumlord palace squeezed between a noisy dirty laundry room and a boiler room that often drowned out the noise of the washer and dryer with its constant 90 decibel hum.

Mike used up his money for booze and gambling but no longer incurred any serious debt. That was mostly due to Reynolds who had given strict orders to Smithy not to front or loan Mike Robinson any money or take bets that he couldn’t cover. It went against basic family policy since putting the squeeze on one often netted assets or favors or both, but Reynolds didn’t want Jess to pay for the sins of his father. Reynolds had a soft spot for the kid any way. Jess was a humble kid but a proven warrior in combat, and he had taken several for the team, making Reynolds a richer man and adding several times over to the collective wealth of the Verlucci clan. Thanks to Jess’s heroic run, Reynolds had become a multi millionaire and the Verlucci Family holdings, with the acquisition stake in the Venetian, topped a cool billion.

Dano Verlucci could have retired, but he already had a new goal in mind, and that was to eventually build a version of the Venetian in Detroit. If MGM could do it, why not him? Aside from the MGM, Detroit had two other big name casinos, Greektown and Motor City, surely there was room for a 4th. Anyhow, that was a few years down the road. There was ground work to be laid, land to be purchased, palms to be greased, but like most anything, throw enough money behind it, and you could get it done; after all, there were rarely any poor people in Congress. Then again, the same philosophy rarely worked for the government.

Jess would actually split time with the Tuckers and his room with Gramma and Antwan. Gramma had promised him that it was his room forever, at least for as long as she was on God’s Green Earth as she put it, then she made Antwan promise and literally swear on her mangled bible that he would do the same. They had adopted him as grandson and little brother. Jess and Carly would have plenty of lake time and the summer turned out to be as magical as the first one they had been together. When they eventually married some years later, Antwan, with a contact he had in Vegas, would arrange a nice free suite at the Venetian for them, one that ran 10 G’s a night and featured everything from bronze sculptured Jacuzzis to gold fixtures in the bathrooms. Antwan himself would use it 2 or 3 times a year too with his choice of girls that Reynolds’ associates arranged for his approval. Antwan learned through many trials and errors that he preferred Asian women or ‘Ho’s’ as he put it.

Dr. Hobson, with his landmark study and research on the human brain, not only published an article with a 17-word title, but wrote a best-selling book, and was runner up for the Nobel Prize in Medicine. He may have won it if not for another doctor in India who came up with a viable vaccine for the AIDS virus. Soon after, Hobson expanded his newly opened practice and work specializing in rehabilitating and occasionally reawakening coma patients from around the world. Naturally, the Verlucci Family sponsored him and shared 10% in the profits.

From his gloss black Mercedes E Class sedan with heavily tinted barely legal windows, Antwan called Jess from the hands free car phone. Jess happened to be driving a very limited edition 2012 Dodge Challenger STR8 Yellow Jacket model. It was an older car glossy yellow car with intimidator black stripes, but 9 years ago, they had only made 1,000 of them and Mr. Verlucci had purchased one on a whim for his private collection. It only had 600 miles on it and Mr. Verlucci preferred his Maybach or Bentley over a car that was as flashy as Carly’s Camaro. Both the Challenger and he Camaro were pure American muscle like the Ford Mustang, the perfect dream cars of the younger generation who could rarely afford them or the insurance to boot. It helped if your father owned a car dealership or if one had earned the gratitude of a Dano Verlucci.

“How ya doin’ kid?”

“All right, what’s up?”

“We gonna have a barbeque this Saturday, coach’s meetin’, can you make it?”

“Yeah, got it on the calendar,” which meant that Jess had it stored in his phone.

“You can bring yo’ girl too.”

“Okay by me, but I gotta check with Carly.”

“All right, lemme know.”

“Sure thing.”

At the barbeque, Yuri, Doc Holliday, Rudy, Dino, and several Kettering students including Ichiro Nagasaki and Ho Chit were there to talk about the upcoming season. Carly came along too.

“Hey, got some new light bulb jokes,” said Antwan. There was an instant collective harmonious groan. “How many shrinks does it take to change a light bulb?”

“You mean psychiatrists?” Carly butted in.

“Yeah, yeah, whatever.”

“Don’t know,” was said by several.

“Only one, but that light bulb has really got to want to change.”

There were more groans, only out of sync this time.

“Here’s one for you Carly, how many women on PMS does it take to change a light bulb?”

“I don’t know”, said Carly who was about to get her dander up as Jess held her back with a hand.

“ONE GOD DAMN IT!” Antwan nearly shouted.

He got better laughs with that one, but Gramma scolded him, “Yo’ keep dat up Antwan an’ I goin’ to have to wash out dat mouth boy.” The laughs got louder.

“Sorry Gramma.”

“Now that I’m going to Michigan, you got any good Michigan State jokes?” Jess asked.

“Well, you can use the one ’bout the artificial turf, ya know, why’d they have to put da turf in, ya know, cuz the cheerleaders ate up all da grass.”

“Yeah, yeah, I remember that one, works good too since they’re an aggy school.”

“You could try one with the light bulb.”

“Which one is that?”

“How many MSU grads does it take to change a light bulb?”

“Yeah?”

“No one knows, last count was 33,676 attempts, but they haven’t got one to figure out how to do it yet.”

Jess laughed, “That’s not bad.”

“You got any intellectual jokes Antwan?” Carly jumped in, “Something real smart if you can think of one,” she said sarcastically. A few Ooo’s and Ah’s followed.

“Dang Jess, I tried to tell you man,” said Antwan, “Stay away from those smart ones, they nuthin’ but trouble, you’ll never win. You know that Will Rogers dude? I think he said there were two theories on how to deal with women.”

“What are they?” Jess asked interestedly.

“Doesn’t matter cuz neither of them works!”

“He’s winning at love Antwan, that’s all that matters,” said Carly as she planted a kiss on Jess’s cheek, “Maybe you ought to try a smart one for a change, come to think of it, maybe a dumb one too, and I don’t see any around here, unless maybe you like boys! Should I be worried Jess?” Carly needled while faking concern. There were more Ooo’s and Ah’s and Boo’s too, but a good deal of laughter from those gathered. They all looked at the master Antwan anxiously awaiting a catchy comeback.

“I like the, the…. honeys just fine,” said Antwan, who, on thinking way back to his time with Willy J, wanted to say “Ho’s’ and ‘Bitches’.”

“No really Antwan,” Carly pressed, “It’s realllllly okay, society has gotten much more tolerant. We’re well in the 21st century now and you don’t have to hide any longer. In fact, there’s a gay rally on campus next week, they’re trying to get support for the gay marriage bill that’s coming up again for a vote in the state.”

More Ooo’s and Boo’s as they all looked to Antwan again for a famous retort, “Okay, I give up,” Antwan said and turned to Jess: “I love you man,” and gave him a big crushing bear hug along with a kiss on his cheek and a firm grab of Jess’s ass. In a prissy voice he added, “Will you go to the gay rally with me?”

“Sure,” laughed Jess, “I saw one of those once, maybe we can ride with the ‘Dykes on Bikes’!”

They all laughed good naturedly.

“Wait a sec,” said Antwan who straightened seriously and stepped back, “I thought of one, just for you Carly.”

“Uh huh, is a smart one?” She asked doubtfully.

“Yup.”

“Let’s hear it then.”

Antwan, like most blacks can do, spoke in his non-Ebonic professional white voice as he liked to call it, mimicking that of a deeply-toned haughty professor, “What does an agnostic man do who suffers from both dyslexia and insomnia?”

“What?” Carly asked.

“He stays up all night wondering if there really is a Dog.”

Carly paused considering, then laughed out loud, “I’ve got to hand it to you Antwan, that one’s good, really good.” It took the others who had been listening a few extra seconds too before they started chuckling.

“Okay,” said Antwan when the laughs died down, “This Harvard Professor, a southern cracker named Bubba, and a black man walk into a bar…..”

The groans started up again, but the party went on, never a dull moment around Antwan.