Hometown Favorite: A Novel (21 page)

"So's my deal," Dewayne said. "I'm the first draft pick. I'd like
to shake things up, maybe set a precedent. I'm part of a team,
and I want people to hear that message"

"How soon can you get to Kennedy airport?"

"We need to pack and check out of our hotel. About three
hours tops."

On screen, the commissioner shook hands with the Stars'
delegate and turned the podium over to him.

The hustle and flow in the green room stopped. A pause
came in the frantic deliberations. Everyone pressed in closer
to the monitors, all eyes watching, all ears tuned, except Sly.
He was looking around the room to see who still might be talking. His eyes widened when he saw his best friend with
his cell phone to his ear.

"We will have the company jet pick you up and fly you and
your wife back to Houston for a press conference and signing
all before the six o'clock news. Keep your phone handy. I'll
have someone on this end get back with you to give you the
flight details and what private hangar we arrange for you to
meet our plane"

Dewayne and Rosella rose from the table and began to walk
hand in hand out of the green room. Sly caught up with them
at the exit just as the commissioner announced that Dewayne
Jobe was the number one draft pick. Voices in the green room
erupted. Dewayne had his cell phone cocked to his ear as they
moved past Sly.

"Cat got your tongue, baby?" Rosella said, and she patted
Sly's cheek as they breezed out the door and into the backstage
area of the Music Hall.

"Make them pay, my man," Sly said, shouting above the noise
in the green room. "Make them pay."

Dewayne paused beside his friend and swung his cell phone
behind his back. "It's not about making them pay, it's about
getting paid. It's a process, baby, and what I'm about to do is
going to make me the richest man in pro football. Watch and
learn"

Dewayne slapped Sly's shoulder and proceeded out of the
green room.

Rosella stopped at the edge of the stage and stood beside
the first row of stage seating for VIPs. Dewayne was ushered
down the aisle between the thirty-two desks, one for each team,
toward the podium, his cell phone still plugged into his ear.

"I'll have your contract ready when you arrive in Houston;" Sam Thomas said. "Make the announcement and then get to
the airport"

Dewayne disconnected the phone and slipped it into his
suit coat pocket.

Sly knew something was up when his agent took his BlackBerry
away from his ear long enough to slap him on the back and told
him to shake it off and be glad he wasn't playing for last year's
worst team in the league. Sly clicked off his phone, forgetting
there was an NFL coach on the other end, and watched Dewayne hold up his Stars jersey with the number 1 written on
the back and front. His friend was going blind from the white
light of all the cameras flashing in his face, and he felt the envy
in his gut for not receiving this honor, even if it was last year's
worst team. He wished he were holding up the jersey, the first
to shake hands with the commissioner, the first to go blind
from the lights of the cameras. He needed to be happy for his
best friend. In time, he would get over the snub.

But the next newsflash made the sting to his feelings irrelevant.

What made Sly's blood turn cold, what muted every cell
phone and BlackBerry conversation in the green room, what
brought the world of professional football to a standstill, was
Dewayne's announcement.

"I'll be-" were the only words heard in the green room
before the entire place detonated.

The flight down to Houston on the Gulfstream G5 was smooth,
and for Dewayne and Rosella, it was not long enough to enjoy
the luxurious comfort and the pampered attention from the two flight attendants who indulged their every whim. Sam Thomas
and Coach Gyra along with several of the Stars staff were there
to meet the couple when the limo whisked them into the private entrance of the stadium past the gathering press corps and
diehard fans who wanted their first glimpse of the man who
had stirred up so much excitement. The public relations office
thought the stadium was the perfect backdrop to parade the
new star before the press and the city of Houston. The draft in
New York had just closed, so Thomas and Gyra gave Dewayne
the nickel tour of the locker room and workout center while
Rosella looked over the contract before they all sat down to go
over the simple terms of the agreement. Thomas commented
on how exceptional it was for Dewayne's wife to be so involved
in the business side of things, and not some agent.

"She's an exceptional woman with an exceptional mind;"
Dewayne said.

When they toured the locker room, a few veterans of the
team about to leave for the day got the surprise of their lives
with this unexpected visit. Gyra introduced the vets to their
new teammate, and Gyra and Thomas passed Dewayne off to
Harrison Barrow, a three-hundred-pound offensive tackle.
Harrison gave Dewayne a tour through the maze of state-ofthe-art rooms, from a small medical center to a relaxation room
equipped with a kitchen and minibar, oversized leather chairs
and sofas, and a plasma television covering most of one entire
wall. Before Harrison gave Dewayne back to Gyra, he stopped
him in the relaxation room.

"Been in the league a long time. Never seen anything like
what you did;" Harrison said. "They're calling this the deal
heard round the world."

Harrison placed his meaty hand on Dewayne's shoulder.

"Me and some of the old-timers were talking. We probably would have been casualties of the salary cap this year, but thanks
to your deal, we might get to stay in Houston."

Dewayne was hoping for this kind of result, and he might
have made his first friend out of the deal.

"This approach makes the most sense to me;" Dewayne
said.

"Anything you need you let me know," Harrison said, patting
Dewayne's shoulder a couple of times. "You'd better go. Sam
gets grumpy when he's off schedule"

Harrison pointed him in the direction back to the main
locker room.

"Hey, Jobe. You gonna finish school?"

"I wouldn't want to get on the bad side of my mama now,
would I?" Dewayne said as he went around the corner.

Sam Thomas took the first few minutes of the press conference to extol Dewayne for his athleticism and his character, and
he gave the general outline of Dewayne's deal, just signed ...
only waiting for the ink to dry before being given his signing
bonus check and playbook and put on the plane to Los Angeles.
Thomas ended his comments by saying in all his twenty-seven
years in the league, he thought he had seen it all until today.

When Dewayne took over from Thomas, no reporter had
the standard questions about his size, his college history, his
alleged use of steroids, and his loss of the Heisman. The why
of today's decision trumped those questions.

"It's simple;" he said. "When it comes to the salary cap every
year, you see great players who've paid their dues to a team
and the league being forced to renegotiate smaller contracts
just to stay employed and help their team. I'm not a proven
commodity. Those guys are. For a team to be successful, we
need their experience and dedication. I look up to them. I'm just doing my part now because I plan to be around for a long
time and be part of a winning team"

Rosella and Dewayne stared at the check for $2.5 million
propped against the binder of the Stars' playbook sitting on
the tray table in front of them. The Gulfstream would have had
to be flying at full throttle to have kept up with their speeding
hearts.

"Ten percent goes to God," Rosella said.

"No argument," Dewayne said.

Dewayne reached out and ran his finger over the embossed
bumps along the cut check that outlined the total, as though he
was reading Braille. "I want to pay off Mama's mortgage"

"No argument"

Rosella took her turn swiping the raised sum with her finger. "I'll pay off the SportsPlex, and then maybe I should buy
a car.

"Good. I'm getting tired of driving you everywhere."

They both started to giggle.

"You should agent my endorsement deals. Keep it in the
family;" Dewayne said.

"How much you pay me?"

Dewayne's bright face went pensive as though descending
deep into thought. "How about minimum wage and all the
lovin' you can handle?" he said, his face as straight as a union
negotiator's.

"I've seen what happens when I have all the lovin' I can handle" She patted her belly. "I think I'll just take the money."

Their laughter vaulted above the roar of the Gulfstream's
engines.