Iron Chef: Arrest Season
Joey in L.A.
By CAP
The sun was a ball of flame sinking into the sea when a tanned bare chested Joey Mallarme stepped out onto the balcony of his new condominium in the Venice district of Los Angeles. "Oh, man, L.A.," he pleasurably moaned. He sent a silent prayer of gratitude to the football gods that the NFL came to their senses and put two expansion teams in southern California.
Savoring the evening after an afternoon of voluntary workouts with the Zorros, he took a deep breath basking in the warmth of the waning day. A slight breeze teased the dark hair that ended just above his shoulders. The gentle rumble of the Pacific Ocean wafted around him as it endlessly crashed against the shore. The sun-drenched sands of the beach that ran up to the gate of his small, enclosed back yard teemed with young, taut-bodied women wearing the smallest of bikinis. More than one smiled and waved at Joey as they slowly sauntered along.
Word gets around. Anyone who could afford a beachfront apartment was worthy of their attention and it helped that Joey was young and handsome with a sculptured physique but more importantly as the second round draft choice of the city's new expansion football team, he had celebrity, the most tantalizing intoxicant in Los Angeles County.
Joey surveyed the immediate area as he nonchalantly stretched to the appreciation of several female onlookers. A rush of euphoria surged through him. He had made it! He was a professional football player. Jeffy never got beyond high school ball. Jamie went to some rinky-dink division two college and never got so much as a second glance from a NFL scout. He alone made it! He went to one of the best football programs in the country and stood out, twice All-Conference, second team All-American his final year, Mel Kiper talked about him on ESPN in the months leading up to the draft. Fox Sports listed him on their pre-draft big boards. Several sports talk radio hosts in various cities said that their local teams would be idiots not to snatch him up quick. He was the Big Dog, The Hot Ticket.
An errant ray caught the massive ring on his right hand sending shards of color into space. Joey smiled as he gazed upon his National Championship ring that he won his during his redshirt junior year at college. He kept the smaller ring that he received for being on Lawndale's state championship team in a petite case buried amongst his socks. "I didn't peak in high school," Joey often thought smugly.
"It's gonna take a couple of years," he cooed to it. "But you're gonna have a Super Bowl ring or two to keep you company."
A knock at his front tore him reluctantly away from the adoration of his ring. Frowning, he grabbed a maroon Pennsylvania Commonwealth University tee shirt as he headed for the stairs.
The black man with dark sunglasses on his front stoop was not very tall but the broadness of his shoulders and chest made him appear far more substantial than mere inches could.
"Mack?" Joey asked in disbelief. "Mack! How ya been, man? Get the hell in here! I got some beer in the fridge. How are the Broncos treating you?"
"I'm not with Denver anymore," Mack Mackenzie answered returning Joey's exuberant hug with somewhat more restraint. "They left me unprotected in the expansion draft and Orange County picked me. I play for the Rebels now.
"Orange County! Cool," Joey exclaimed stepping aside to allow his old friend inside. "That's like pretty close to here, right?"
"The stadium's in Irvine," replied Mack quickly if covertly scanning the near empty ground floor. "Just get on the four-oh-five and head south. It's about fifty, fifty-five miles from here."
"Cool," Joey said. "Gotta beat freezing your ass off in Colorado."
"I liked Denver but that's the business," Mack said. "If you haven't checked the schedules yet we play against each other in September."
"Really? Cool," Joey said. "I'm gonna burn your ass, ya know."
Mack tolerantly smiled. "You never did in practice back in Lawndale but maybe you learned a thing or two at PCU."
"A thing or two," Joey agreed. "Oh man, Mack, this is great. It's been what five years?"
"Four," he answered. "We never seemed to be back home at the same time."
"Well," Joey drawled directing his fellow footballer to the kitchen. "I haven't been back in Lawndale that much. Nothing there for me. After the glassworks plant closed three years ago, Mom and Dad moved down to Raleigh for work. Just about everyone from high school left, too."
"Keep in touch with anyone?" Mack asked.
"Sorta," Joey replied a shrug. "E-mails usually, ya know. Jamie White mostly, a couple of other guys from the team."
"I ran into Jeffy Burgess a few months ago," Mack said accepting a bottle of beer. "He's in the Navy, a Petty Officer, 2nd Class."
"I knew he joined up," Joey replied after taking a sip. "We don't talk much anymore. I think he's jealous of me."
Mack took a long draught as he scanned the near empty apartment. "He seems happy," he said. "He's engaged now to an English girl he met in Barcelona of all places."
Joey chuckled. "Engaged? Better him than me. What about old 'I'm the QB' himself?"
"Kevin's working with his father's construction business and going to Lawndale State at night," Mack supplied. "Failing as he did embarrassed him. He says that even if it takes him ten years he's going to get a degree."
"Knowing him, twenty years might not be enough time," Joey said. "Man, I still get steamed thinking about that last game of his. I was wide open for a touchdown and he never saw me. We could've won State."
Mack waved a hand. "O-line didn't give him much time that day," he replied. "He usually had someone in his face before he took three steps. Anyway, you won it the next year."
"Yeah, but back-to-back would've been sweet," Joey replied.
Mack shook his head. "You want it all, don't you?"
Joey laughed in return. "Not all of it. Just what's mine."
Mack scanned the open ground floor again. "Does what's yours include furniture anytime soon?" he asked.
Joey laughed even louder. "Hey gimme a chance," he said. "I've only been here a month. Besides, I got a bed and that's what counts."
"What are you driving?" Mack asked.
Joey smiled expansively. "A Porsche 911," he purred. "The hottest thing on four wheels and one hell of a chick magnet."
"Have you a financial plan of any sort?" asked Mack.
Joey rolled his eyes. "Do you know how big my contract is?" he asked derisively. "Do you know how many freaking zeros were on my signing bonus check?"
Mack took another slow swig of beer before replying. "Yeah, I do."
Joey snorted. "Then you know I'm rich as hell now."
"You not rich, Joey," Mack countered.
"Dude, what do you mean I'm not rich," Joey shot back. "I just dropped a hundred kâcashâ on a car without blinking."
"And I bet the lease on this place is about two hundred thousand a year," Mack said.
"Try two-fifty," Joey replied.
"So you're out three hundred and fifty thousand dollars for just a car and a roof over your head," Mack said. "A roof you don't even own."
"Like I said, Dude, I'm rich," Joey replied complacently.
"Joey, you're not wealthy," Mack said patiently. "You have some serious coin at the moment but right now it's just so much vapor. You need to be careful with it nurture it turn it into some concrete that'll serve you in the long run."
"You're not my daddy," Joey snapped.
"No, I'm not," Mack acknowledged. "But I guess I feel the old loyalties. I'm still the team captain looking out for you."
"I'm doing good," Joey said less stridently. "Not to rub it in, man but a hell of a lot better than you. You weren't even drafted."
"That's right," Mack said calmly. "I signed as a free agent and however long my NFL career is, it's likely I won't even make in total what LA gave you as a signing bonus but I am going to be set if not for life than in a position to give myself options that don't involve working for minimum wage."
"Well, dude, of course you're going to be set," Joey said. "You're in the NFL."
"Joey," Mack patiently began. "There are scores of ex-pros working temp jobs right now just to keep body and soul together."
"No way."
Mack nodded. "Yeah, way," he said. "Look, I'm not going to point out that the next play could be last one for any of us or remind you that despite being at PCU for five years, you did not graduate. Yeah, I checked. Nor am I going to tell you that most of the women who hop into your bed PDQ are after your money. You know all of that."
"So what are you going to do?" Joey asked.
"Give you my phone number," Mack replied extracting his cell phone from its case.
"And?"
"And nothing," Mack said. "I have to get back to Irvine but let me say if you want to spend money like there's no tomorrow, knock yourself out. It's your money. If you want to do as much as you can to maybe have a dollar or two in the bank when that fall comes when your body says 'no mas', I can help you. Either way, don't be a stranger. Give me a call sometimes."
"Yeah, sure," Joey said honestly as the two of them headed for the door. "You know I will. We gotta get together, show LA who the true stars are."
Mack chuckled. "It'll take some doing to dethrone Kobe."
"Gotta think big, Dude," Joey laughingly replied. "Couple of years, Kobe and Ashton Kutcher are gonna be calling asking to hang with me."
Mack lightly punched his friend in the shoulder. "Well, see if you can work me in occasionally."
"Hey, you know it, homie," Joey said.
He watched as his old team captain climbed into his Toyota Corolla. Mack waved once before driving away. Joey waited until he turned the corner before he shook his head.
"Mack never did know how to have fun," he said sadly as he closed the door.
He let his gaze wander around the apartment as he headed back to the kitchen. "I guess it is a little empty," he thought to himself reaching for a beer. "It ain't the only thing," he added when he noticed how little was in the refrigerator.
Moments later, he dropped down on a patio chair in his small yard. It was dark. The sun left the sky leaving a canopy of stars stretched overhead. The sounds of the city snuck over the wall but it could not drown out the soothing sound of the endlessly crashing surf.
His thoughts drifted to his parents. They worked all of their lives but did not have anything to show for it. They were wage slaves completely at the mercy of forces that they had no control over. Corporate bosses decide that outsourcing was the way to go and the job his old man loyally did for twenty-two years disappeared overnight. New computer software hit the market and suddenly just two could do the office job that his mom did with three others. Thanks for all of the good work. Don't let the door hit your ass on the way out.
At least, Joey thought, a mortgage was something about which they did not have to worry. He bought them a good house. They liked it but he knew that they both missed Lawndale. It was home.
"Hi Joey," a silky voice purred snapping Joey out of his meditation.
"Hey, Anna," Joey replied. Her breasts were too symmetrical to be real, her teeth too perfect to be what nature gave her, and something just did not quite ring true when she said that she was twenty one yet she was stunning if one did not look too close. She said that she was a model who was taking classes to break into acting but she seemed to spend all of her time on the beach.
"Want to hit some clubs?" she asked.
"Uh, thanks but I can't," Joey replied. "Practice tomorrow, ya know."
"We don't have to stay out that late," Anna pouted.
"I'm sorry, I can't. Gotta be sharp," Joey said as he abruptly stood. "Too many guys want my job. See ya 'round."
Joey made certain that he locked the door behind him. "Wonder if the Dodgers are on TV?" he mused as he began to climb the staircase while punching the keys of his cell phone. "Jade Panda? Yeah, I'd like some Mongolian Beef."
-fini-
Obvious an AU since there are no NFL teams between San Francisco and San Diego and have not been any since the Rams departed for St. Louis prior to the 1995 season.