Not Everyone Likes Football
Chapter 11 – Going in a Different Direction
A female politician is not necessarily a feminist.
That was one thought going through Tami Taylor's mind after a quick meeting on Thursday morning with Mayor Lucy Rodell at her house. Although she'd met the mayor before, she hadn't expected a sudden imperious summons from her the previous evening. The phone had rung, Tami answered, and right away, with no preamble, Mayor Rodell told her that she needed to meet with Eric and her urgently because of two issues, one of which concerned her personally and one regarding the football team. No chance to consult her schedule, just a specific time and address given and that was it.
In a small town like Dillon, you didn't say no to an invitation from the mayor. All that Tami could do was tell Eric what had happened and where they needed to be at what time.
Lucy Rodell lived on one of the last remaining farms within the official Dillon city limits, north of the main part of the town. She raised cows, pigs, and chickens there, as well as growing crops to feed them. There were no front yards with flower gardens here: the farm was a functional place, devoted to production and not to looking pleasant.
The Mayor answered the doorbell herself. "Eric, Tami, I sure am glad to see you. I know it was kind of sudden the way I called you, but when something needs to happen, it needs to happen. Come on in. You want some coffee or anything to drink?" Tami and Eric both said yes to coffee. Then Melissa "Missy" Blankenship, the real estate agent who'd sold the Taylors their house three years ago, walked into the living room and said hello to both of them before sitting down on the couch next to the mayor. What was she doing there? There was no chance at all that Mayor Rodell was looking for a different place to live; she was a vocal supporter of farming and "the right of Dillon to stay a small town and not copycat bigger places".
Mayor Rodell got right down to business once everyone had coffee in front of them. "Tami, I think you know we've got an election next year. I'm trying to line up some people who'd like to work on my campaign team. Do you think you're up for that?"
"Sure," Tami said with a smile. There were a lot of reasons for her to accept. The mayor had shown herself to be a strong supporter of education and counseling; it was no secret that it was her idea that the city should provide part of the funding for her guidance counselor job to be a full-time position with the same level of pay as other teachers.
"Great," the mayor said with a decisive nod, and then proceeded to reach to her right and grasp Missy's hand. "As I get more people on board, I'll be able to let you know who and what exactly you'll be working with, or somebody will call you and tell you." A pause, during which she and Missy stroked each other's hands. Not furtively, as though they were afraid of being noticed, more like that they knew they would be and didn't care.
Eric coughed slightly. "And what was the issue with the football team?"
"Oh, that, right." The hands moved away from each other. Mayor Rodell explained that since the Panthers' next road game was in Gatling, the players and coaches, as well as a contingent of fans from Dillon who would be driving there to support the team, would need to stay at one hotel or more. Usually the way things worked was that the mayor and a representative of the boosters, in this case, Buddy Garrity, would be meeting with a group from Gatling to hash out all the details, but she wasn't going to be able to attend and she wanted Tami to substitute for her. "Make sure they agree to us staying at a nice place. Gatling is no vacation spot, and I don't want anyone from Dillon shot in a drive-by or anything." Before Tami had a chance to ask why she was being chosen for this job, the mayor added some more instructions: "Wear something really nice and -" the gesture that she made with her hands clearly meant "low-cut". Tami saw Eric actually wince at this.
A few minutes later the meeting was over and Tami and Eric were walking back to their car.
"I wonder what all that was about," she said.
"I think the mayor just realized what a forward-thinking individual I am," Eric deadpanned. Tami smacked his arm, the most appropriate response that she could think of at that moment. Somewhere along the way, her inability to say no to people might be getting her into trouble.
###
After practice
Eric had just officially ended practice when he was approached by a stranger, or at least somebody that he wasn't aware of knowing. A man just shy of six feet tall who looked like he was about Eric's age, with short brown hair and a beard framing his face.
"Coach Taylor?" the man asked in a somewhat hesitant voice that showed that he was clearly not from Texas. He sounded more like he was from the West Coast. "I'm a great fan of your work." And then he introduced himself and held out his hand for a handshake.
"Thanks, I appreciate that," Eric responded in an affable but guarded tone as they shook hands. "What can I do for you?"
"Well," the man said, "I'm actually here on behalf of a mutual acquaintance of ours."
"And who would that be?"
"Mr. Naguabo." The name didn't ring a bell with Eric. What kind of name was that anyway?
"I'm sorry, but that name really doesn't seem familiar to me. I'm pretty sure I never coached a player or worked with a coach with that name, I'd remember it."
"No," the other man shook his head with a smile, "he's not a coach and he's not related to any of your players, current or former. He's actually been trying to write a book-length story about you, your family, the town of Dillon, and the struggles of the Dillon Panthers and other people in this town."
Eric raised his eyebrows quickly. "I didn't know anything about that. And I don't think I appreciate people writing about my family."
"Don't worry about that, Coach. I know him well, and he's not going to include anything that isn't already public knowledge or close to it. Your privacy is not going to get invaded. Anyway, he wanted me to tell you that he's not going to be able to complete his original project the way he planned it, there's just too much other work of his and other things getting in the way. He just can't manage it."
"Why would anyone want to write a book about this team?" Well, maybe that was a bit of an exaggeration. After all, he'd read the same book that Brendan had, and other sports biographies that focused on small-town environments. It was like big-city people needed to be reminded that a different world existed.
"The Panthers have won multiple State championships, and I'm pretty sure they're going to do it again. That attracts attention. The struggles of a small-town team in a big state that's absolutely football-mad, the people involved, how all that happens... it can make for a lot of good stories."
"So, I don't get it. What's your writer friend going to do instead?"
"Well, what he'd really like to do is watch one of your games and have a beer with you after, but he lives too far away for that. Instead, what he's going to do, when he can, is write some shorter stories about particular events that happen in Dillon as the season goes on, and maybe in the coming season too."
Eric put his hands together. "Does that mean something bad is going to happen?"
"Not really. No worse than things that already happen in real life. But I have to be getting back to work. Good luck with your game tomorrow, Coach, and my regards to Mrs. Taylor and your kids. They're great people."
And the other man left as suddenly as he'd shown up.
[Author's Note: Well, maybe that was a bit over the top, but I wanted to find an original way to explain myself. I just don't have the energy to make this story work like I wanted to, but instead I hope to fit some bits and pieces of the multiple-season story line, as I've imagined it, into future stories that will be shorter and therefore I'll be more likely to actually produce. I apologize to any disappointed readers, but my own disappointment is even greater. Still, I'm not giving up on this project, just sort of shifting my focus and plan. ]
TO BE CONTINUED ELSEWHERE...
