Chapter 3

His first Sunday in his new home saw him sleep until 11 a.m. waking well rested and ready to take on his new position. He hadn't slept past 7 or 8 o'clock in 10 or more years. Had financial security and guiltless sex eased all of his tensions and allowed him to relax?

He made coffee and turned on his computer to find 13 emails in his inbox. Eleven were from campus well-wishers he met the day before and two were from Barbie, which he opened last.

Jared: I found a lot of your things you probably need. Let me know if you're going to be home on Sunday and I'll drive them up for you. Please let me know by Saturday evening, as I would like to get an early start on the road. Love ya, Barbie.

"Well," he thought, "I guess I'm a bit late in reading this one. I hope she didn't leave to come here anyway. I really don't want to see her."

The second email answered some questions for him.

Jared: I guess you're out of town as I thought you might be. Call me on your return.

Love, Barbie

"Oh God, what does she have?" He said to himself. "Probably a half tube of toothpaste and some socks. I know I cleared out anything I wanted."

He sat and thought about Barbie, trying to miss her. Their first 5 years together were the best time of his life. She was a fun loving, active, vibrant partner to him. She had a body to kill for and was such a tiger in the sack that she wore him out. He wished he could find the moment where it began to go south. She was a horny nymph at times then. Now, he barely missed her, the only image he conjured was her in front of the TV. The fun loving person whom he would frolic with both outside and in was just what he called "a wump". Yes, she put on a good show on their last Sunday, but the days that followed left no hangover of rekindled feelings. Very possibly she left everything at work where her passion for her job filled her life, it seemed. Like the pitcher who warms up so meticulously before the big game only to go to the mound with no stuff, no idea, having left it all in preparation, once she got home she had no time, no passion, no idea. So lacking was the passion, he once thought she was cheating, but that wasn't her.

He thought, "Am I bastard son of a bitch for not answering this at all? Right now I don't want her in my life at all. Let me live a month, 2 months or even 3 without seeing her, thinking of her, having her and see if I really miss her. If she came now, or even if we communicated, old feelings may root and spoil the landscape I want to create. If this tree grows, I want it to be for real."

He went through his campus phone directory to find a phone number for Brian Faraday. He found it and called.

Hello Brian, this is Jared Winslow. I've just been hired here at NEAT as the football coach and I'm told you're quite an athlete.

Brian: uh ... oh really? Coach Winslow! I've heard and read so much about you. Welcome to University. How can I help you?"

Coach: I was hoping to get a chance to talk with you. You know there's going to be openings for walk-on on my team and I would love to see you try out. I hear you've got quite a foot.

Brian: I've never played American football. At home, well most everywhere else, football is soccer. But, I've never played.

Coach: They convert kickers all the time you know. Soccer style kickers fill the NFL and a good one can play a short career and comfortably retire with a great pension and have a second career in his given field. Because you play in a club status, if you convert to a NCAA sport there could be financial help from the NCAA's University Incentive with tuition. I know we're getting ahead of ourselves here, but I just want you to see the possibilities.

Brian: I'm hoping that we can get some sort of status here for soccer, maybe a Division 2 or 3.

Coach: Well, that could happen, but you're just finishing your freshman year, you'll be a senior by that's ever decided. It wouldn't hurt to come out and talk would it? Obviously I'm thinking of the success of the team, but think of yourself as well.

Brian: I heard all of this from the baseball coach, but I was cut after 3 practices.

Coach: Baseball is a multi-faceted sport. With football we would concentrate on your one known given skill, kicking. I have one other kicker coming in for sure. There may be other walk-ons, but as long as you can do it, you have the inside track already.

Brian: Really, why?

Coach: Because you're an athlete, a proven athlete and most important, a great student athlete. You know pressure, you know your studies, you can handle both.

Brian: Suppose I can't kick a football?

Coach: Suppose you can. Believe in yourself if you want others to.

Brian: I've got a game soon. Can I think about it?

Coach: Of course, I'll be at the game. I've never seen you play. I'm going on what I've heard. That's how good it's been.

Brian: We aren't breaking any NCAA recruitment rules are we?

Coach: No, you're already a student, classes are in for a few more days. I'm having one walk-on skills workout before school ends. Any current student can show up and you have a head up, you've got full medical clearance. Can we talk after the game today?

Brian: Sure, it won't hurt.

Coach: Be sure you tell your coach, keep it all above board. Remember, I'm not trying to talk you out of a soccer career here. Our seasons may overlap a little from time to time, but almost never from day to day. If you keep up your studies there won't be a problem. Look for me after the game. I'll be outside the locker room.

Brian: Thanks for thinking of me Coach. Bye.

When Jared hung up he had the impression that Brian Faraday thought he was a snake oil salesman. Now he only hoped his soccer Coach didn't portray him the same way. If Faraday was that talented he could get a lot further with football than soccer, at least in this country. The problem was, Faraday was supposed to help put NEAT on the soccer map. However the rest of the team was so poor Brian couldn't overcome the adversity. Surely other schools may try to woo him, as much as they are allowed, which is limited. But a transfer might mean sitting out a year, even if it was just a club team. The NCAA reviewed these on a case-by-case basis and Brian's reputation could make him probable to sit out a year on transfer.

After showering Jared was off to University Field for the game. As he parked there was a small sign at the ticket booth "Soccer Today vs. Connecticut Prep, Free Admission, NO ALCOHOL ALLOWED"

Walking in he saw the reason the old football field was called The Bleacher Bowl. It was all wooden bench on metal frame seats that ringed the field. No fancy seating and it held about 8000 uncomfortable butts. They added another 1000 folding chairs in the front when Varsity football played there. Today there was no need for any additional seating; a crowd of maybe 500 was there, including the players, friends and families of the players. Jared found a seat halfway up the middle stand. He pulled a ball cap over his head and tried to be as inconspicuous as possible. He knew media coverage may make him a recognizable target, but he planned on being courteous to any autographs or curiosity seekers.

Jared Winslow had a little knowledge of soccer having played it in high school, although he never excelled. What he was interested in was seeing the reflexes, speed and kicking power of the center forward Brian Faraday. The game featured little offense until a NEAT winger fed Faraday who came onto the ball just ahead of a defenders foot. He drilled a cannon shot off the goalkeeper's outstretched foot or goalpost and a defender intercepted the rebound and drilled it toward one of his midfielders but Faraday was anticipating the pass and headered it down as one of his other forwards crossed. Faraday, in full stride took a pass back and repeated his earlier cannon shot towards goal. And the keeper barely saw it pass over his shoulder.

"Hmm, in 30 or 40 seconds of play I can see what an athlete he is for sure. If he can kick a moving ball like that, a set ball on a tee or a hold should be cake." He thought. However he remembered Mike Denault the baseball coach and the trial he gave Faraday after seeing his fast feet. He should have been a natural for shortstop, but he saw no hope for him. So he wasn't quite measuring him for a uniform yet.

He was just getting into the flow of the game when he heard the clip-clop of shoes coming down the bleacher behind him and Belle sat right next to him.

"Good afternoon Coach Winslow. How do you like our football team, or should I say soccer team? My husband says you're probably looking for a kicker, young Faraday?" She said being quite polite, a change from the day before.

"Yes, it's just an idea. He's supposed to be a special athlete. Looking never hurt." Jared said keeping his eyes on the game.

"You mean like looking and not touching, like yesterday?" She said with a bit of attitude.

"Belle, how about a little decorum. You are the AD's wife, and I work under him. Don't you find that quite inappropriate?" He asked.

"He hasn't worked under or over me in a long time, so I look for a little excitement from time to time. I thought I had a hook in you yesterday, but you surprised me." Belle said bluntly; not afraid or shy to air her personal problems.

"If I seemed like I was coming on to you, it was because I thought you were Ann. It isn't that I want to come onto Ann either, but it seemed like YOU started it. I thought Ann was coming on to me and I responded. I'm very sorry if you thought I led you on. It wasn't my intention." Jared answered, as he got more and more uncomfortable by the minute.

"I respect your feelings and commend you for having the character not to have a fling with someone he obvious seems to think is attractive and willing, but morally unavailable." Belle said patting his knee and getting up to leave.

"You said that yesterday, and went back on it." He said still seeming to keep his attention on the game.

"I saw you staring at my coochie and I thought I rehooked. My bad." She snickered as she walked away

The game remained 1 to nil for quite a time and Jared sensed another person approaching, he hoped it wasn't Belle.

"Coach Winslow, Welcome to University." Said the friendly female face.

The greeting gave her away as a student, Winslow had already learned.

"Thank you very much, I'm very happy to be here." He said looking at the woman, who appeared to be beyond college age, maybe 28 or 30. She was sort of attractive in her own way, a big smile with rosy cheeks. Very cute in the face and long wavy brown hair. He detected she was a bit pudgy, but not fat. She looked motherly to him, or at least his perception of how a young mom would have survived childbirth.

"I don't mean to bother you, but may I sit with you for a moment?" She asked as Jared nodded politely.

"I grew up in Vermont and was always familiar with your fathers career when I was a little girl and now you're like a hero to me. When they said you were coming here I could barely contain my excitement. Now, meeting you ... Oh My GOD, I've never introduced myself. My name is Connie Nixon." She said extending her hand as Jared offered his to shake, but she never let go of it and continued to babble about her fanaticism for his accomplishments.

"I'm interning here in the Sports Department and I hope we get a chance to work together. I would even come over and clean your house or whatever. I feel I owe you so much for everything you've done." She said with a look in her eye that Jared had seen before in the eyes of young girls adoring star players. She was a Jared Winslow groupie; perhaps the only one in the world, for sure, as far as he knew.