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Page 9


  The coach handed out the list and reviewed it with the team:

  Basketball in the summer is your #1 priority.

  Because the IIAA allows twenty-five days of summer contact with the coach, the attached details the next 24 days (excluding Sundays) of your itinerary. You should be at East End High School from 9 a.m. to 4 p.m. for each of these days. Team practice starts sharply at 9 a.m. and will end at noon. You will have one hour for lunch. From one to four in the afternoon you will be role models and counselors in our basketball camps for grade school kids. As role models to the community’s kids, you need to be positive and helpful to these campers. You will earn $8.00 per hour for your afternoon work. In addition, you avoid or earn our normal summer camp fee. Three days a week, we play here at Olgesby. During the other nights, you do not have East End team obligations with one exception – it is a privilege to play on this team, do not do anything detrimental to yourself or our program.

  Vacations are no excuse to miss the next 24 workdays. Your families can use the rest of the summer to travel.

  Our playbook has expanded. You will be tested next Monday. Use the weekend to study the new plays.

  Your parents are encouraged to participate in the booster club activities.

  Poor attitudes will cost you summer minutes, which will lessen your chances of earning winter playing time.

  You need to support each other and remain positive. Always play hard and never stop trying to improve.

  We wear Vole shoes on this team. They provide awesome basketball clothes for us, and we need to show our appreciation by wearing their shoes. Tell me your shoe size and I will get you two pairs for the season – home and away colors.

  Read #1 again.

  “Are there any questions?”

  The boys were stunned. Some of them planned to work summer jobs to earn money. Others knew their parents would be unhappy with the small window of time at the end of summer ball to squeeze in vacations. No one dared to say anything.

  “Ok. Make sure you let your parents read this. Speaking of parents, Jamal, would you please get your dad out of the gym and ask him to join us for a minute?”

  “Yeah, coach,” Jamal said as he jumped up and ran into the building to fetch his father.

  Marcus and Jamal Imari came out of the building onto the lawn close to the gym entrance.

  “Boys”, Coach Venturi said, “Jamal’s dad is joining our team this year as a volunteer assistant. He was quite a player in his day, and he is knowledgeable about the game. He has some unconventional ideas about how to improve our fundamentals that Jamal used on his NAU team and we are going to try many of these drills this summer. Initially, he will help me in our morning camp sessions. He will also be on the sideline at Oglesby, and will be responsible for practice and game statistics. Many of you already know Jamal’s dad. The rest of you will get to know him as the summer moves on. We are lucky to have Mr. Imari helping our team. Not many parents know basketball as well as he does, and most cannot commit to being around the gym as much as we need him. Boys, let’s welcome Mr. Imari to our team.”

  After a polite round of applause, the coach continued.

  “There’s one more piece of business to handle before we play our first game tonight. Each of you voted yesterday via email to pick our team captain. We are lucky because we have three outstanding seniors who all have leadership qualities. However, the vote was nearly unanimous – you all picked Jamal Imari to be your team captain. Congratulations, Jamal.”

  Marcus could not have been more proud. It has been a long road for Jamal: from trying out for Coach Battle’s NAU team to becoming the captain of a statewide competitive high school team.

  “Boys, remember to tell your parents that this summer is about improving skills, not winning games. They may not understand why I might be more intense in a winning, blowout game than during a loss. You will have to explain to them if I am riding you, it is only because you are not executing something we have learned regardless of the score. Finally, boys, man-up this summer. Accept criticism in order to improve, it is not personal. And tell your parents not to call me so much this year!”

  Chapter Sixteen. Star Gazing

  Frank Worrell was dreading the start of summer ball. He was back in town from his annual early summer vacation and would not be free to get away until next spring. Summer basketball and football absorbed his entire hot season, leading into fall football, then basketball and a little break before baseball started. His “bread and butter” was basketball reporting. At the end of summer, he normally published his preseason football poll and a basketball camp review. As soon as football ended, his much-heralded pre-season basketball series started culminating with his initial rankings. The Windy City Daily conducted telephone surveys and online polls, and determined that the increase in circulation and internet visits occurred because of the paper’s basketball coverage. Frank Worrell was the reason.

  Nancy Kapist committed to the Windy City Daily Board of Directors that Frank was poised to contribute another outstanding year creating his high school sports columns. Some board members heard rumors that Frank was trying to jump over to the Chicago Tribune, assuming that he did not move to the crime beat or the political desk. Without exception, they appreciated his contribution to the paper’s prep coverage and to the bottom line profits. Personally, they were not opposed to accommodating Frank as long as they hired a replacement who could continue their near-monopoly of high school coverage. However, organization chart protocol dictated that they defer the discussion back to the chief editor. Nancy was concerned that Frank was about to explode. She wanted to have a conversation with Frank to put out his career fire for now, and keep him motivated. She invited him to dinner at her downtown penthouse a few blocks away from the Daily’s headquarters.

  Over the years, Frank had been to a handful of parties at Nancy’s condominium. The beautiful layout included a panoramic view of Oak Street Beach to the north and the old Meigs Field to the south. Across the street to the east was the infamous Lake Shore Drive, and beyond, Lake Michigan. The entire scenery from the balcony was breathtaking, and to Nancy, well worth the three million dollar price tag.

  “Ronnie Edelman, come on in. Thanks for coming over. We have a lot to talk about”

  “Nancy, you are the only person who doesn’t call me Frank Worrell. Why is that?”

  “Well, I’ve known your Dad for so long. If I am to call him Dr. Edelman, I have a hard time calling his son by any other last name. Sit down. What would you like to drink?”

  Frank became uncomfortable. “I don’t usually drink at business meetings. We are here to talk about business aren’t we?”

  “Relax Ronnie. I know you have many concerns and questions. I have some answers and suggestions - so we have lots of business to discuss. However, we do not have to be rushed. How long have we known each other? Over ten years, I think. Anyway, we don’t have to be so formal.”

  “Yes, it’s been over ten years. Ok. I’ll have a beer.”

  “Sure”, Nancy said as she poured two glasses of wine and handed him one.

  Franks laughed and thanked her for the wine. “I guess they don’t serve beer in these lofty penthouses,” he thought to himself.

  In preparation for this meeting, Frank wrote the following issues on a piece of paper so that he would not forget to bring them up for discussion:

  Salary

  Prestige and Professional Respect

  Promotion

  Crime Desk

  Over the next hour, Frank outlined his frustrations, concerns and job hopping threats. Nancy was happy to elicit his lists because she wanted to reassure her bosses on the Daily’s board that Frank was under control and ready to deliver top-rate prep coverage in the fall and winter. The business side of the newspaper wanted to embark on a sales campaign highlighting the demographics of the increased viewership because of their focus on prep sports, but they needed Frank to calm down and work in the right frame of mind.

&
nbsp; “Ronnie, I want you to know that when you started with us, the high school sports reporter’s job was the bottom of the pecking order. It had the highest turnover. Sports journalists would cut their teeth on that job and usually move on to the glamour sports, but sometimes to other parts of the paper. As such, the job was slotted with a low-grade rating along with a low-pay grid.”

  “Nancy, you never told me this when I interviewed.”

  She was a shrewd businessperson. She replied to deflate his upcoming pitch, “Ronnie, you would never have been hired if I didn’t know your dad. If the decision depended on college credentials alone, someone else would not have been hired. You never seem grateful that I gave you this opportunity.”

  He turned red in his face. Just as he was ready to explode, she cut him off.

  “Despite all of that,” she said, “hiring you was the best accidental thing that happened to The Windy City Daily. You have worked hard, you have gone outside the requirements, and you have developed a unique niche. I don’t know any reporter in the country who has developed the relationships that you have with the coaches, players, parents, referees, colleges, and what do you call them, ‘Street Agents’?”

  “Yep. I call them the scum of the earth. Well, talk is cheap Nancy. I want to live better. I’m so far away from a place like this, and I’m not getting any younger.”

  “You’re right. In addition, in the past the board did not appreciate good high school coverage. Until you came along, that is. These people are not writers – they are business people. You could write a Pulitzer Prize quality column and they would give a shit. However, increase profits and they notice. You have increased the bottom line of the paper significantly. It took everyone by surprise. I’ll deny that I said this to you, but Ronnie, sometimes I think that the only time we make money is during your sports season, or if a national hurricane or some other disaster occurs.”

  “Flattery will get you everywhere, Nancy.”

  “Everywhere?” she asked as she provoked an awkward moment. “I was able to get the board to change the classification of your assignment. As such, I am offering an immediate 14% raise effective Monday. How does that sound?”

  He was shocked at the amount of raise. He was still in debt from last year’s football betting losses. He had paid off all of his debts to Bobby G. – the scumbag mostly operated on a cash basis. However, Frank ran up debt on a couple credit cards. Other newspaper employees that he talked with got much more modest raises between three to seven percent. Doubling the top end made him feel good and although even fourteen percent would not satisfy his materialistic needs, it was a great concession, and he grasped the commitment right away.

  “Next, you listed Prestige and Professional Respect. As far as I am concerned, you already have this. Nevertheless, here is an offer. Because of the success of the entire sports department and the readership that you have helped achieve, we have decided to sponsor a local access cable television show called, The Windy City Daily Sports Wrap, running five nights a week during the school year. It will be hosted by one of the Chicago sports celebrities, but we will maintain editorial control.”

  “That’s interesting, but I’m not following.”

  “Well, to further increase your profile around town, you can be on-air whenever you want with these conditions: 1) your column coverage and quality cannot suffer in any way, and 2) your participation on the show is restricted to high school sports topics. Look, it’s not Sports Center but it is a hell of an opportunity. I think you’ll agree that the money and the TV deal address your first three items on your list.”

  “Wow”, he was overwhelmed. He was not expecting so much.

  “And I know that you continue to be interested in working on the Crime Desk at the paper. The board will not let me,” she lied, “and I cannot afford to lose your high school coverage contribution to the paper right now. But I stand committed to make it happen in the future.”

  “Nancy, I came here ready to quit. And ... in the first five minutes I thought that the paper still undervalued what I do. However, your offer blows me away. I’m happily surprised.”

  “Good, Ronnie. I could not tell you until the board approved these plans. They signed-off yesterday. If we have a deal, let’s shake on it and have some dinner.”

  With that, they shook hands and walked through the balcony doors to a table set with her finest linen and entertainment china, overlooking the pounding summer’s waves on Oak Street Beach. She signaled to her chef/maid that she was ready for dinner. They had a wonderful meal and drank a bottle of wine that Frank could never afford, even with his new raise.

  When they finished dinner, Frank thanked her again. He said he was delighted with the paper’s increased commitment to him. He also remarked how cool it was to dine with such a great view, in such a beautiful house. He was gushing like one of the adolescents that he covered in his column.

  “Frank, did you ever see the skylight in the condo when you were here before?”

  “I don’t think so.”

  She grabbed Frank’s hand and walked him through a threshold normally blocked by an in-wall sliding door. Behind the doorway was a massive bedroom. She pulled him into the room. While he stood looking around, she sat on the edge of the bed.

  “Look up Ronnie. There is the skylight. Look at all the stars out tonight. Come over here and look up.”

  She patted the bed next to her, and motioned Frank to come over.

  “Are you trying to seduce me, Mrs. Kapist,” asked Frank putting a twist on a line from the old movie, The Graduate.

  When he sat down, she smiled and quietly said, “Yes.”

  Frank found her quite attractive, and with the attention she showered on him tonight, he was powerless to resist. They began kissing on the side of the bed, timidly at first. Mad, adoring embraces followed the initial awkward pecks. Clothing piled on the floor as Nancy’s pent-up passions matched Franks’ desires. They made love for hours under the stars.

  In the morning, Frank woke up to Nancy sitting alongside the bed in a chair reading the Daily’s paper. Frank was hoping this was not a dream because he had received a hefty raise and a television show deal, and he slept with a beautiful, albeit older woman.

  Nancy was thinking to herself, “When is this kid going to get dressed and get out of here?” Instead she said, “Good morning, Ronnie. I wasn’t sure if you were ever going to get up today!”

  A little dazed, he asked, “Should I feel guilty about last night, Nancy?”

  “If you’re like me, you feel great about last night.”

  “Where do we go from here?” he asked Nancy.

  Nancy had several motives. She was frustrated with the lack of intimacy her marriage had achieved. Her husband was a good guy, but they no longer were sexual. He was gone for long stretches of time. Yet, she could not afford to begin an affair in her lofty social circles without professional consequences. Having a throwaway affair with Frank was ideal: he was attractive, he could fulfill her sexual needs, and she could use sex as a way to control him at the paper. She saw him as a means to an end.

  “Ronnie, I want to see you more. However, I must insist on some rules. Number one, we never publicly act out or discuss with anyone our encounters. It has to be secret. Two, around the office we interact professionally without regard to our private relationship. And three, either of us can call this off anytime unilaterally.”

  “Nancy, I completely agree. When can I see you again?”

  ***

  Occasionally when Nancy’s husband was out of town and more importantly, when she was bored, Frank got to be with her. They were discrete. Nancy’s maid knew about these sexual rendezvous, but pledged her secrecy. With her penthouse setup, they did not need to go out in public. The affair was off and running.

  Chapter Seventeen. Marriage on the Rocks

  Jamal Imari had grown to six foot five inches by the summer before his senior year. During the prior years, he had received several recruiting lette
rs of interest but there were no firm offers or commitments to scholarships. Jamal himself was evaluating his commitment to play basketball beyond high school. He liked Coach Venturi, but was scared of his newly formed intensity at the start of the summer.

  Coach Battle contacted Jamal on behalf of his NAU team sponsor and asked him to honor his old team by wearing Kerbe shoes during the high school season. This phone call put the young teenager in the middle of an adult financial squabble. Jamal realized for the first time that other people were making money on his back. He was stressing major about the gym shoe dilemma – his prior coach wanted him to wear the NAU’s team sponsor (Kerbe) shoes, the current coach wanted Vole. Jamal wanted to act loyal to both Venturi and Battle. He brought home the coach’s rules for the summer to show his mom.

  Marcus’ legal problems about carrying the gun into O’Hare Airport were finally resolved in an unsatisfactory way. In the post 9/11 era, the prosecutors insisted on a felony conviction. They wanted to show that Homeland Security was doing their job, and that airplanes and airports were completely safe. Marcus provided a golden chance for the federal agents to champion detection and prosecution. Prosecutors clearly understood that he was not aware that his gun was in his carryon bag, but they needed to post a felony conviction. The defendant lawyers’ strategy was able to accomplish two goals: they had stretched the speed of the trial longer than six years and they saved Marcus from any jail time. Nevertheless, the DA would not settle for anything less than a felony conviction and one-year probation for violating federal aviation and firearm laws. At the successful completion of the probation year, the judge would expunge his felony criminal record. The everlasting portion of this arrangement was that he had to forfeit his right to legally carry a firearm. Marcus agreed reluctantly with no other acceptable option. The overnight time in the Cook County holding cell scared him into accepting this deal. After all of these years, Marcus Imari could never again handle a gun or work for the Board of Trade.