Senior Year Box Set

“That’s hard to say, and just so we’re clear, I have no direct knowledge of what I’m about to tell you,” Bo said. My mother snorted to share her thoughts on that disclaimer. “Basketball players seem to be at a premium. A top-five small forward might be worth $100,000, but a five-star quarterback would be worth at least that much, I would assume.

“For you, that would be the starting point because you bring more with you than just your football skills. Remember when you went to the Northwestern–Stanford game? You told me that you were surprised the place wasn’t sold out. What would it be worth to them to have a full stadium? If you draw even half as well as you did playing high school baseball, it would be a boon.

“I mean, do the math. If you drew an additional ten thousand season-ticket holders at Northwestern, their cheapest plan is like $160. That’s $1.6 million in ticket sales, and we haven’t even touched merchandise sales. I know that if you came here, half our fan base would have your jersey.

“Then let’s consider the draw of additional students. Someone like you would help our numbers. It’s just like Missouri took a hit when their football team threatened to boycott football games if their president, who they deemed ineffective in resolving the racist climate, didn’t resign. Believe me, we are very aware of what negative press of that kind could do to our program. At Missouri, they’re feeling the backlash in a big way. Enrollment is down, forcing them to close dorms and lay off over 400 employees. Good press and growth can have the opposite effect,” Bo explained.

“Bottom-line it for me,” I said.

“I would guess you could command at least half a million, if not double or triple that at the right place.”

“Okay, so what’s Alabama offering?” I teased.

“A full ride, me as your coach, and a chance to play in National Championship games. And then, if you feel like going to school, we’ll throw that in at no additional cost.”

“Have you ever thought of selling real estate? I’m always looking for smooth talkers,” Mom said.

“If it means your son plays for Alabama, I’m sure they’d fire me, and I would need a job.”

“I just realized you didn’t guarantee me a starting spot or scholarships for my posse,” I complained.

“That’s life. Suck it up and sign with us and let’s end this insane tour you plan to do this fall.”

“I forgot to tell you. Wisconsin stepped on their dicks with my dad.”

“David, language,” Mom warned.

“I asked them what the best fraternity for me to join was. They told us I wouldn’t have enough time for a frat because I’d be too busy preparing for football. Dad wondered if I would have time to study.”

“Good. I can mark them off your list,” Bo said.

“I think so. They don’t have an architecture program for Tim.”

“Oh, shit. We might not have one either. Let me look into that,” Bo said.

“For one-point-five, I think I can talk him into going to Alabama,” Mom shared.

Bo just laughed. I was sure that by now, he knew my mom well enough to recognize when she was joking. Let the bidding war begin.

◊◊◊

I came home to find Cassidy at my house, helping Dad make dinner. Before I had a chance to investigate why she was here, Duke informed me of an issue. It seemed Bandit was eating his dog food.

“Just stick your head in there and eat,” I told him. “Or better yet, eat Bandit’s food.”

Duke got brave and grabbed a mouthful of dog food. They would figure it out. If Duke could stand up to Precious, Bandit would be a piece of cake.

I walked up behind Cassidy, wrapped her in my arms, and kissed her neck.

“If Brook is ‘Hotness,’ what am I?” Cassidy asked.

Dad turned away because he was going to laugh. Cassidy said it so seriously he decided laughter probably wasn’t a good idea. While I’d never seen Cassidy take an adult down, I thought my dad made the smart play.

“I hadn’t really thought about it, but you’re right. You need a text handle so when I send you and Brook a message, you know who I’m talking about.”

“Why can’t you just say ‘Brook’ or ‘Cassidy’?” Dad asked.

He had a point, but Cassidy wanted a pet name. We both ignored him.

“I sort of wanted ‘Hotness,’” Cassidy pouted.

“Let’s try these on. Stop me when you hear one you like. Bumpkin, Sparky, Giggles, Puddin’, Boo, Peaches …”

“David, you’re not even trying,” Cassidy said as she crossed her arms over her chest.

“I know. You should be my ‘Bad Girl,’” I suggested as I waggled my eyebrows.

I could tell she liked that.

“What should you and Brook call me?” I asked.

“Besides ‘Stupid Boy’?” Cassidy asked, and I nodded. “Big Daddy.”

It could be worse.

“Why are you eating with us tonight?” I asked.

“I got kicked out. Dad had all the coaches over to plan for the Washington game, and they’re still trying to figure out what’s wrong with the offense. I told them it looks fine when you play quarterback.”

I gave her a high five.

“You can come eat with us anytime,” I assured her.

◊◊◊ Tuesday September 6