The Baller: A Down and Dirty Football Novel

“What?”

“I’m kidding. It’s open to the public during tours. But I know most of the people who work here, so they let me come up whenever. Carl worked here for fifty years before he retired. I grew up next to him and his wife, Marlene.”

Brody wasn’t exaggerating. The view from the roof was pretty spectacular. Nestled between two of the church peaks was a cozy little seating area that looked out on the entire city.

“So what happened to the pigeon coops after Carl retired?” There was no sign of a cage—or a pigeon, for that matter.

“He kept up with it for a while. After he died, Marlene donated everything to the West Side Pigeon Club. There are a lot of pigeon people in this city.”

We stood along the brick rooftop rail, and Brody pointed out some buildings. He was pretty knowledgeable about the area and architecture.

“What was your major in college?” I asked.

“You mean you don’t have that memorized?”

“I’m better with statistics than actual words.”

“Engineering.”

“That’s right. Pretty difficult major while playing football at a Big Ten.”

“See. I’m not just a pretty face. Got some brains, too.”

I rolled my eyes. “So, is this where you take all your dates? It’s definitely not what I would’ve expected.”

“If this were a real date, we definitely wouldn’t be in the one place where I can’t maul you or tell you what I’m thinking of doing to your body.”

“So this is my safe place?”

Brody motioned for me to sit on the stone bench and then sat next to me. “It might be your only one.”

“Okay, then.” I cleared my throat and reached into my bag for my notebook. “Why don’t we get started? I’ll go easy on you.”

He smirked. “I wouldn’t be going easy on you if this was my show.”

I shook my head. “How do you feel about the changes in coaching and management that are planned for next year?” Coach Ryan had been the Steel’s coach since Brody began his career. He’d cut Brody from the team, but also hired him back and gave him a second chance. Due to his wife’s health issues, Ryan was retiring at the end of the season.

Brody blew out a breath. “Not looking forward to it. Coach is tough, but fair, and built the team to what it is today. I respect him and wish he was sticking around. But I respect him even more for putting his family first.”

“Any idea who they have in mind for his replacement?”

“Nope. But I’m hoping the decision is made before Coach retires. The sooner, the better. It’ll make for a smoother transition to have the two coaches work together for a while. Bob Langley has been solid with coaching picks. Just hope it continues.

“That brings me nicely to my next question. It’s rumored that Bob Langley might sell a—”

“Were the roses from Langley?”

“Why would the owner of your team send me roses, I’ve never met the man?” I knew exactly whom he meant. He was referring to Bob’s son, Michael.

“The dipshit son you work with, not Bob.”

“I don’t think that’s any of your business.”

“Maybe not. But I’m asking the question.”

I held his stare. “Yes.”

“Guy’s a—”

“We’re at a church,” I reminded him.

“Are you seeing him?”

“He asked me to dinner, if you must know.”

“You’ll go out to dinner with him, but not me?”

“His dinner invitation is to get to know me, not to get inside of me.”

“That’s where you’re wrong. I’m just more upfront about it than he is.”

“How did my pre-interview turn into you asking me questions?”

Brody leaned back and folded his arms over his chest. “Question for question.”

“Excuse me?”

“For every question you ask, I get to ask one.”

“That’s ridiculous.”

“Not if you want the interview.”

“Let me guess. All of your questions will be personal?”

“Only when yours are.”

“Fine,” I huffed. I’d just steer clear of personal questions. Perusing the list I had prepared, I skipped the first one that was clearly more personal than professional. “The offensive line seems to have become a second-half team. Sixty-eight percent of the scoring has been done in the second half, and the Steel have come from behind in the second half in four out of five of their wins. What happens in the locker room at halftime that makes the team rally together better?”

Brody looked pleased with my question. He spent almost a full five minutes talking about the halftime changes that Coach Ryan made during previous games. Unlike many quarterbacks, he didn’t take credit for the improvements that caused his team to win. Instead, he chalked things up to strong coaching.

“My turn,” Brody said when I finished scribbling notes.

“I’m almost afraid to hear it. But go ahead.”

“If you had to marry one man from Gilligan’s Island, which one would you choose?”

I laughed. “That’s your question?”

“It is.” He had a boyish grin on his face.

“That’s easy. The Professor.”

“Good answer.”

“Was there really any other logical answer?”

Vi Keeland's books