An offer? That sounds good. "What are the terms?"
"Not bad. They didn't give me a dollar amount, they want to talk with you personally, but they said upper range for a quarterback in their league. Of course, upper end for them and upper end in the USA are two very different numbers.”
“What do you think, Coach?"
He thinks for a moment, then shrugs. "It's got to be your choice, Tyler, but here's my thoughts. The League's stacked with quarterbacks right now, so unless someone goes down with an injury, your chances of getting more than a third string or a scout team slot are small. But, Canadian ball, the game's a bit different, the field's different. You're going to start with more money than a scout teamer or practice squadder, but there is a much lower limit up there.”
"But I wouldn't be banned from the League," I muse. "I mean, guys have gone from Canada back to the US before. Good ones, too." I think about it. "When does Toronto want to talk?"
"Quickly. The Canadian season starts in early July, and runs until the weekend after Thanksgiving when they run their championship game. They'll probably let you walk for graduation, but you're going to be going straight from graduation to training camp."
"That's not a problem. I'm not hurt, and with what Coach T's been putting me through, I'm in the best shape of my life. And like I said, it's not a prison sentence, it's just a season or two in Toronto. I can light up the field up there, and get an invite to a League team if everything goes right.”
Coach gives me a grin, and slaps my knee. "All right. Let's go to my office, we can make that call back to Toronto."
Chapter 2
April
"Miss Gray, would you come into my office, please?"
Oh hell. One year on the job with the Toronto Fighters, and I've already been called into the General Manager's office more often than I should, and most of the time it’s not good.
It's not that I don't try, I really do. I know I'm just the lowest level of administrative assistant on the staff, but that doesn't mean I don't bust my butt. It's just that I don't have experience in the sports world, at least not football. I don't know what pro athletes want, and a lot of the players aren't very patient with someone like me.
About half of my screw ups have been someone telling me something, and I’m too shy to ask them what they really mean. Like my first big screw up, with a right tackle from the States who I was supposed to shadow and help out. How was I supposed to know that 'two honey chickenheads' meant get the man two groupies from the crowd after the game and not a bucket of chicken nuggets with honey dipping sauce?
"How can I help you, Mr. Larroquette?"
The General Manager looks up from his blotter, where he’s reviewing some paperwork, and gives me a terse smile, which is actually pretty warm for him. He's not the most friendly of people to work for. He's not a jerk, he's just . . . cold, I guess. "Have a seat, April. How are your parents?"
He might be cold outwardly, but Mr. Larroquette is up to date on just about everyone who works for the Fighters. "My father's treatments are progressing, sir. The doctors still won't give me a straight answer, but Daddy's still hoping. Mom . . . well, she has her days, sir."
The GM gives me a supportive look, and I know that it’s partly my parents' health problems that have let me keep my job so long, even after so many screw ups. "We just signed a new player from the States, I'm turning you over to him as his personal assistant."
"I see, sir." I don't know what else to say. This is my third player I've done PA duties for, and the other two I lasted a combined month between them. And while the Fighters aren’t a baseball team, three strikes and I'm out, regardless of my family situation. "Who?"
"A rookie quarterback, he finishes his university classes in two days. Of course that means his timeline is going to be short. We start the season in one month."
"I understand, sir. You want to make sure he’s able to focus fully on football."
The GM hums like I've told a decent joke and leans back. "Not at all. We sent him our playbook the day we had him sign his contract, so he's had plenty of time to learn our system, which isn't that different from what he played. It's not his football playing that I’m worried about. I'm worried about him keeping his nose clean.
Oh hell. Chickenheads and honeys again. "That doesn’t sound good."
"Not at all. Especially with the amount of money that we signed him for. It's the biggest rookie contract we've handed out . . . ever."
"He must very good."
"He is. Coach Blanchard and I both agree that he can be the key to a very deep run at the Cup this year, especially with our holes on defense. Miss Gray, I cannot stress this enough. Tyler Paulson must stay out of trouble, and stay happy here in Toronto. I don't need to deal with anymore issues from immigration because American players get into trouble with the Mounties or the Toronto police."