Chapter 36

On Monday, David slipped into the trainers’ area, hoping to get a massage after lifting. His lower back had tightened up. That was when he overheard Matt in a hushed conversation with Bryce, the head trainer.

“Yes, I’m sure. You have a sexually transmitted infection,” Bryce said.

“Shit. What about John?”

“Privacy laws prevent me from commenting on another patient’s test results. But if, say, you and he were with the same person ... well, you can draw your own conclusion.”

David gave them a generous quarter of a second, then stepped into the room and said brightly, “So, your cock is diseased.”

“David, Matt and I are having a private conversation,” Bryce said.

David glanced at the wide-open door and back as if confused.

“My bad. I’ll come back later,” he said, acting contrite, but then he stopped and held up a finger. “And John?”

“Hang on. It’s not what you’re implying,” Matt said, clearly worried David would run off and tell everyone that John really was his butt buddy.

David grabbed a chair and flipped it around so he could straddle it and have a front-row seat to this little drama.

“We got with a hooker,” Matt said to explain.

“Dude! Seriously?! And you forgot to wrap it?” David asked, then turned to the trainer. “We had a meeting about this during fall drills, didn’t we? I think you said something along the lines of our dicks would fall off if we didn’t use condoms.”

Matt looked at his shoes, and David could tell he was mentally calculating how many punches he could get in before they pulled him off. Finally, Matt said, “We ran out.”

“I can see that,” David said to console Matt. “Not! Dude! Again, seriously?! Did you think that since you did it once with a condom, the next one wouldn’t count?”

“You can’t say anything,” Matt panicked.

“Only if you make me a promise,” David said, holding up two fingers like a Boy Scout.

He figured he wouldn’t get into trouble with the Scouts because their salute was three fingers.

Matt got a hooded-eye look that didn’t bode well.

“What is it?”

“That when you can’t piss anymore because your dick begins to rot from the inside, and they have to shove one of those bottle cleaners in there and give it a twirl ... I mean, it wouldn’t be all that big, maybe a small pipe cleaner because you and John are each less than half a ruler ... Just promise me I get to watch,” David said eagerly.

He might have gotten away with it because Matt was focused on getting a pipe cleaner shoved up his dick. He’d played a similar prank on his brother in high school, so he knew what mental gymnastics Matt was going through. But the fricking trainer burst out laughing.

David leaned back so the first big roundhouse just missed his head. He laughed as Matt chased him into the locker room. When Matt saw a bunch of their teammates, he stopped and glared at David before stomping back into the training room.

“What’s that about?” Bear asked.

“Just guy stuff,” David said to dismiss it.

If it were David, he would just man up and tell the team because he wouldn’t want to be Matt’s bitch for the rest of the season. The thought of Matt worrying that he would spill his shame put David in an amazingly good mood. He’d have to come back to get his back massage.

Karma bit David in the ass when he got a call from his agent on his way to practice.

“They’re writing you out of the soap,” Kendrick announced.

“Is there a chance I could come back in the spring and summer? They aren’t like killing me off, are they?” David asked.

“Well, you get shot in the back of the head by Bec’s jealous husband, so I don’t think there’s much chance of you coming back. But it’s a soap, so you never know. I was able to get Zak Verwood to play your nemesis. They’ve agreed to make Bec and Zak regulars on the show, so I’ll get a steady paycheck out of this,” Kendrick said.

“Good for you,” David said but didn’t mean it.

As David got older, he started to see why people despised certain professions. At the moment, he wasn’t sure which was worse. In no particular order: lawyers, used car salesmen, TV talking heads, and the new addition to his list, agents.

Though, in his opinion, the worst profession of all was spam phone caller. David hated spam phone callers with a passion. If a politician promised to shut them down, they would get his vote. They’d passed a law that made the calls illegal, but the spammers weren’t afraid it would ever be enforced. The proof was in the daily calls and texts to fix his credit or to sell him an extended car warranty. They were also smart enough to bypass most spam software—he knew because he’d paid for a few of those apps, and eventually, they quit working.

He might authorize a few rogue drone strikes on call centers worldwide if he were elected president.

This was a good reminder of why Tami had told him that his first idea was ALWAYS wrong. But he felt he might be right on this one. There would be a bunch of hand-wringing over ‘collateral damage,’ but this was one of those issues that the majority of people would secretly agree with. Especially when the calls stopped.

“I’ve got some more bad news. The Pac-12 is holding off on using you to promote the conference until you’re a starter.”

“Really?” David asked, trying to sound disappointed.

“I told them I doubted you’d be interested down the road if that were the case,” Kendrick said.

Maybe he wasn’t the self-centered agent David suspected. Then David did the math. Kendrick would make nothing if David donated his time. But for now, Kendrick had done the right thing. This got David out of having to help the Pac-12 make more money.

Personally, he thought they were crazy not to promote him because, as a conference, they were lagging in TV revenues compared to the big-boy conferences. If it weren’t for two big boosters, USC wouldn’t be able to make up for the shortfall from the lack of TV money.

“Well, good job for not letting them play you,” David said.

“That’s all I have,” Kendrick said and hung up.

David had to laugh. He wondered why he let Kendrick talk him into even having an agent when he couldn’t work.

After practice, David was to meet Coach Stackhouse and whoever else showed up in one of the coaches’ conference rooms for his video call with Tony Hope and Bud Mason. He found Rachel spinning around in her chair, obviously ready for her day to be over.

“When are you ever going to go out with me?” David asked, startling her.

“The last thing I want to do is take my work home with me. You’re in conference room B.”

“Not so fast. I haven’t seen you in a few days and heard you went out with your office-mate. I want to hear how it went.”

She glared at him, but David was unfazed. He grabbed a chair and pulled it beside her so he could hear all about it.

“He made reservations for La Tequila,” Rachel said.

“I hear they have great margaritas.”

“They do. So, anyway, it was packed, and we had to go to the bar before we could be seated. He ordered a pitcher of said margaritas. While we waited, he told me he’s a warlock.”

“The fuck you say?” David asked with a big grin.

“Exactly,” Rachel said, and he could see she was trying not to grin. “It got better. He told me he cast a love spell to get his last girlfriend.”

“See, this is why you should date me.”

“Then he shared the spell. On a full moon, he cut his nut sack to draw blood, which he saved and put into her drink at a bar. He bragged that she was his bitch now.”

“You’re telling me they’re still dating?” David asked in disbelief.

“Oh no,” Rachel said, shaking her head. “She dumped him, but he claims she’s still desperately in love with him. He said he figured I could act as her stand-in until she came running back.”

“I hope you ordered the most expensive item on the menu.”

“Turns out he didn’t really have reservations and that our wait would be like three hours. His buddy who worked there was supposed to hook him up, but the guy got fired the night before for stealing tips. He offered to take me to his friend’s house because the friend had eaten there and swore that he could make anything on the menu. I told him it would be best if he just paid the tab and left. He paid and was hurt when I said I’d get an Uber home.”

“That was probably for the best.”

“It would have been if that hadn’t left me depressed with a pitcher to finish on my own. One of the waitstaff overheard most of what he said, and they brought me appetizers on the house. Their food is outstanding.”

“Why don’t we head over and eat there after my meeting?” David asked.

“We’ll never get in.”

“When you’re with David A. Dawson, you don’t need no stinkin’ reservations.”

“I’d like to try their food, if you’re serious,” Rachel said, at long last agreeing to a date with him.

David was early for his call, so he handed his phone to Rachel to show her his kids’ Halloween video.

“They did pretty well at first,” David said as they did the dance Cassidy had taught them, “And then it became a free-for-all.”

“I want your dick,” Rachel said.

This was going much better than he expected. Maybe his kid’s dancing was an aphrodisiac to make women want Mr. Happy.

Rachel looked up from the phone and showed him the text message.

“Who’s Wren?” Rachel asked.

David didn’t even try to explain as Rachel packed up her stuff and left. Maybe Wren would go with him to La Tequila.

David had been running workouts just for Notre Dame, so he wasn’t all that surprised when almost the entire offense showed up for the call. Coach Stackhouse moved them to a bigger room when the coaching staff filed into the back.

“It looks like we have a crowd,” Coach Mason said when he came on.

Coach Hope joined them, and they got to work.

“We think we have a way to beat the Irish,” Coach Mason announced.

The room approved of that pronouncement.

“It all has to do with how sound they are on defense. They don’t fall for misdirection or tricks because they’re all veterans and have been well-coached. They’ve seen almost everything, and they don’t panic,” Coach Hope said.

“I want to show you some plays the guy at Mississippi State is running,” Coach Mason said.

“We saw that everyone the Irish played tried to run their offense perfectly. Screw that. With a few modifications to how you run your stuff, all your plays will be problems for them,” Coach Hope said.

“Let me explain,” Coach Mason said.

Notre Dame played off the ball on the wideouts to try to make opponents take the easy catch in front of them. They would then close and tackle for minimal gains.

Mississippi State sent everyone eligible to catch a ball thirty yards downfield and spread the receivers from sideline to sideline. The quarterback had no idea who he was going to throw to, so they had no way of making a read on where the play would go. Their offensive line did a great job of protecting the quarterback while giving their receivers time to get in position.

Then it got to a mad-scientist level of deviousness. Instead of throwing to a receiver, the quarterback threw to where he saw green grass. The receivers went and got the ball. The key was that the quarterback and receiver had to make the same decision. It was as simple as reading the defense and throwing where they weren’t.

The bonus was that since the receiver had to go get it, they were already running at full speed when they caught the ball. It was similar to the offense Washington State ran, though MSU seemed to be better at executing it.

Coach Mason shared some stats. MSU was gaining over four hundred yards a game passing the ball and scoring an average of 37 points per game. What made that so hard to believe was those stats were against the SEC, which had teams like Alabama, Georgia, Kentucky, and Florida. All had superior defensive talent, on par with Notre Dame.

David gleaned an additional insight from this. The Pac-12 didn’t play defense anywhere near the level the SEC did. That was why the West Coast schools got their clocks cleaned when facing SEC teams in bowl games. They didn’t face it week in and week out, so when the end of the season came, it was too late to prepare.

“We need to practice this if we want to have a prayer of it working,” Coach Thomas said.