ONE MONTH LATER
The bar fell silent and all eyes were glued to the screen. The camera zoomed in on Richie, center court, desperately trying to catch the blood pouring from his nose.
"That was unexpected," the TV announcer said. "If some how you missed what happened, O'Neal from Missouri, just hit Ryan of the same team in the face with the ball." Richie was surrounded by people and undoubtedly trying to convince them he was okay.
"Let's just hope he can hold them off until his nose isn't broken anymore," Adam whispered to Duncan.
"Ryan seems to be okay," the announcer said as Richie was led off the court with a still bleeding nose. "And Coach Roberts is having it out with O'Neal at the Cougars' bench. Neither one of them seems very happy. Looks like O'Neal is benched, with both him and Ryan out of the game the Cougs are going to have a hell of a time keeping the Cowboys of Oklahoma from scoring and winning this already close game." The channel went to commercial.
Joe chuckled lightly from behind the bar. "What are you laughing at?" Amanda demanded.
"That O'Neal guy really has it out for Richie. That and I wonder what story Richie's going to come up with to explain his perfectly fine - should be broken nose," Joe explained innocently.
"I want to know what story that O'Neal guy is going to have for doing that," Amanda huffed. "He could have ruined a very cute face if Richie wasn't who he is."
Joe laughed again and this time Adam joined in. "Does the name Heather ring a bell?" Joe asked.
"How about Heather O'Neal?" Adam added. "Looks like your cute face has gotten himself in trouble with the girlfriend's brother. Some of the Watchers have started a pool betting on how long Richie can last without pummeling the guy."
"This could be interesting," Duncan commented. "How does he always do that?"
"Answer that and the world's rotation will reverse itself," Adam mumbled taking a swig of his beer. "It's like he's not happy unless he's involved in some completely avoidable disaster."
"Then he should be ecstatic, now. He can't keep getting hurt and somehow managing to be okay an hour later," Duncan said helping himself to another beer.
"Well, reports from the team doctor say that Richie Ryan of the South Missouri Cougars is okay. He isn't going to play the rest of the game, but he should be back in by the Penn State game," the announcer informed the bar patrons. A small cheer went up from the crowd and a couple of Richie's friends glanced over at Duncan to give him a wave.
"Looks like you have a home-town hero on your hands," Amanda said to Duncan.
"He'd never come home if he knew about all the attention he's been getting," Duncan assured her. "That's why I'm meeting him at the barge; nobody in Paris follows American college basketball."
"Is he letting you buy the ticket?" Joe asked.
"Yes, surprised?"
"Yeah, according to Mike that monster of a car you got him hasn't left the parking lot but once."
"Once?" Duncan repeated. It had been almost a month since he and Amanda had surprised Richie at work.
"The night you showed up with it. He and a couple guys from his floor took it to - -"
"Let me guess," Duncan interrupted. "The store, right?" Joe nodded. "I knew he'd at least take the food."
"You spoil him, MacLeod," Adam said knowingly. "How can you expect him to function on his own when you keep giving him stuff? Give the kid a chance to support himself."
"He'll have plenty of time for that later. Right now he's getting an education. He shouldn't worry about working, I've got him covered."
"Has it ever occurred to you that he doesn't want to be covered?" Adam asked. "He has a job, he's refusing your little present, give him some space."
"Empty nest, eh Mac?" Joe said with a grin.
"No," Duncan answered.
"Face it, Duncan, you miss having Richie follow you around," Amanda said giving him a reassuring pat on the knee.
"It's okay, I'm sure he misses you, too," Adam said with notable less sympathy than Amanda did.
. . . . . .
After the game Richie tried to sneak out of the locker room but was quickly spotted by the media.
"Richie, are you okay?" a reporter asked cornering him. Richie squinted at the camera light shinning in his face.
"Randi?" he said disbelievingly. "Since when do you cover sports?"
"Since now," she answered with a smile. "How's the nose?" she asked holding her microphone out to him.
"I'm fine. It takes more than a basketball to the face to stop me," he said forcing a smile.
"What happened? Why did you attack your own team-mate?" another reporter asked spotting O'Neal trying to sneak by.
"It was an accident," he shrugged. "You know that don't 'cha, squirt?" He wrapped his arm rather forcefully around Richie's neck.
"Hey it could'a been anyone. But next time you decide to throw a fast ball, make sure you're on the diamond and I'm no where within hitting range," Richie answered with another forced smile. The reporters laughed.
"So, are the rumors true that you'll be taking O'Neal's place as captain next year?" Randi asked Richie.
Richie flushed a little. "I haven't heard that rumor. I'm sure I'll get my chance eventually, but not next year. There are some people waiting in line before me for that gig. You know, Sinclair, Brewer, Jeffries; I think one of them is going to get it."
"Would you like to?" the second reporter asked.
"Well, yeah, but I can wait my turn."
"Now if you'll excuse us," O'Neal interrupted having heard enough talk about his team being turned over to a show-off like Richie. "It's past this little guy's bed time." He ruffled Richie's hair big brotherly, Richie yawned dramatic and swatted his hand away. The reporters laughed appreciatively at their antics unaware that it was a unique form of the fistfight both players wanted to start.
O'Neal started to walk away with his arm still around Richie's neck, leaving Richie no option but to stagger along beside him trying to keep up with his long strides.
"I saw you and Heather kissing last night," O'Neal said in a sugar sweet voice once they got outside.
"So you nearly blew the game to get back at me?" Richie shot back; tired, sore, embarrassed and not up for having to put up with O'Neal.
"If you'd just do what I told you, stop dating my sister, then we wouldn't have a problem," he insisted.
"Like, hell," Richie said removing O'Neal's arm from around his neck. "This is your team and you hate that I'm on it. I don't particularly like playing with you either, you know. I'm sorry if you feel threatened or whatever but we're on the same team and you need to get a grip because I'm not going anywhere."
"I don't know what you're talking about."
"I saw your face when Randi mentioned me becoming captain. I'm not here to take over, I'm just here to play, so back off."
"You know what, Ryan? We're going to settle this once and for all," O'Neal said putting his fists up.
"What?"
"Come on, man. Let's just get this over with. You think you're so tough with your martial arts and everything, let's see how good you are when it counts."
Richie laughed. "I'm plenty good, trust me. I've gone up against people a lot scarier than you. And I'm not about to waste my time."
"Come on, Ryan. Let's see what you've got." O'Neal gave Richie a shove.
"No."
"Scared?"
"Not of you. I'm scared of getting booted off the team. I'm not risking it on you."
"Nobody has to know, you can just say you tripped or something."
"What makes you so sure I'd be the one needing the excuse?" Richie snarled being sure to keep his distance.
"I know I won't." O'Neal took a swing. "You talk big, why don't ya back it up?"
"Hey!" a voice yelled from across the arena parking lot.
Richie froze. "Oh, man."
"What do you two think you're doing?" Roberts demanded approaching them.
"Coach, I didn't do anything," Richie quickly insisted.
"We were just foolin' around," O'Neal shrugged.
"Really?" Roberts inquired. "Then why don't you use all this energy you seem to have for something constructive. Suit up, both of you."
"But, Coach," Richie protested.
"Do you really want to push me, Ryan?"
Richie sighed. "No."
"Excuse me?"
"No, sir," he corrected.
"Then I want both of you on the court in five minutes. Better get moving the clock's ticking."
Richie turned and walked back to the locker room. "Good going," he mumbled as O'Neal caught up with him.
Five minutes later Richie and O'Neal were sprinting back and fourth across the court each trying to out run the other. Roberts kept them there for an hour making them run the stairs and do push-ups. Not before both boys were sufficiently exhausted did he let them stop.
"O'Neal get out of here; Ryan, I want to see you in my office."
After he changed Richie knocked softly on Coach Robert's door.
"Come in, Ryan." Richie walked in and waited for permission to sit down. He wasn't given it.
'This is it,' he thought miserably. 'Pack up; you're going home.'
"Well?" Roberts asked expectantly.
"Yes?"
"Do you care to explain what was going on in the parking lot?"
"I didn't do anything," Richie said slowly. "He's just mad at me."
"So he decided to try to break your nose twice in one night?"
"Coach, nothing happened, I swear."
"I believe you, Ryan. Don't think I haven't noticed the way he picks on you. And don't think I haven't noticed the way you take it. I just wanted to let you know that if O'Neal doesn't straighten up he's going to get into some serious trouble. I don't want to risk the Final Four, but if I have to, I will bench him."
"Why are you telling me?"
"Because you provoke him, Ryan. And I know that you don't want to risk it for the entire team, and I know you don't want to risk any personal consequences, so watch it."
"Okay," Richie answered not very happy that O'Neal wasn't getting this little warning as well.
"Excuse me?"
Richie cleared his throat. "Yes, sir."
"Now get out of here. You have exams next week and I want to see some A's."
AN: I have a request for all you Missouri-ans reading this. I'm looking for a cute little quirk for Richie to pick up while at school. If you have any suggestions please E-MAIL them to me at Gosalyn@hotmail.com. Thanks!
The bar fell silent and all eyes were glued to the screen. The camera zoomed in on Richie, center court, desperately trying to catch the blood pouring from his nose.
"That was unexpected," the TV announcer said. "If some how you missed what happened, O'Neal from Missouri, just hit Ryan of the same team in the face with the ball." Richie was surrounded by people and undoubtedly trying to convince them he was okay.
"Let's just hope he can hold them off until his nose isn't broken anymore," Adam whispered to Duncan.
"Ryan seems to be okay," the announcer said as Richie was led off the court with a still bleeding nose. "And Coach Roberts is having it out with O'Neal at the Cougars' bench. Neither one of them seems very happy. Looks like O'Neal is benched, with both him and Ryan out of the game the Cougs are going to have a hell of a time keeping the Cowboys of Oklahoma from scoring and winning this already close game." The channel went to commercial.
Joe chuckled lightly from behind the bar. "What are you laughing at?" Amanda demanded.
"That O'Neal guy really has it out for Richie. That and I wonder what story Richie's going to come up with to explain his perfectly fine - should be broken nose," Joe explained innocently.
"I want to know what story that O'Neal guy is going to have for doing that," Amanda huffed. "He could have ruined a very cute face if Richie wasn't who he is."
Joe laughed again and this time Adam joined in. "Does the name Heather ring a bell?" Joe asked.
"How about Heather O'Neal?" Adam added. "Looks like your cute face has gotten himself in trouble with the girlfriend's brother. Some of the Watchers have started a pool betting on how long Richie can last without pummeling the guy."
"This could be interesting," Duncan commented. "How does he always do that?"
"Answer that and the world's rotation will reverse itself," Adam mumbled taking a swig of his beer. "It's like he's not happy unless he's involved in some completely avoidable disaster."
"Then he should be ecstatic, now. He can't keep getting hurt and somehow managing to be okay an hour later," Duncan said helping himself to another beer.
"Well, reports from the team doctor say that Richie Ryan of the South Missouri Cougars is okay. He isn't going to play the rest of the game, but he should be back in by the Penn State game," the announcer informed the bar patrons. A small cheer went up from the crowd and a couple of Richie's friends glanced over at Duncan to give him a wave.
"Looks like you have a home-town hero on your hands," Amanda said to Duncan.
"He'd never come home if he knew about all the attention he's been getting," Duncan assured her. "That's why I'm meeting him at the barge; nobody in Paris follows American college basketball."
"Is he letting you buy the ticket?" Joe asked.
"Yes, surprised?"
"Yeah, according to Mike that monster of a car you got him hasn't left the parking lot but once."
"Once?" Duncan repeated. It had been almost a month since he and Amanda had surprised Richie at work.
"The night you showed up with it. He and a couple guys from his floor took it to - -"
"Let me guess," Duncan interrupted. "The store, right?" Joe nodded. "I knew he'd at least take the food."
"You spoil him, MacLeod," Adam said knowingly. "How can you expect him to function on his own when you keep giving him stuff? Give the kid a chance to support himself."
"He'll have plenty of time for that later. Right now he's getting an education. He shouldn't worry about working, I've got him covered."
"Has it ever occurred to you that he doesn't want to be covered?" Adam asked. "He has a job, he's refusing your little present, give him some space."
"Empty nest, eh Mac?" Joe said with a grin.
"No," Duncan answered.
"Face it, Duncan, you miss having Richie follow you around," Amanda said giving him a reassuring pat on the knee.
"It's okay, I'm sure he misses you, too," Adam said with notable less sympathy than Amanda did.
. . . . . .
After the game Richie tried to sneak out of the locker room but was quickly spotted by the media.
"Richie, are you okay?" a reporter asked cornering him. Richie squinted at the camera light shinning in his face.
"Randi?" he said disbelievingly. "Since when do you cover sports?"
"Since now," she answered with a smile. "How's the nose?" she asked holding her microphone out to him.
"I'm fine. It takes more than a basketball to the face to stop me," he said forcing a smile.
"What happened? Why did you attack your own team-mate?" another reporter asked spotting O'Neal trying to sneak by.
"It was an accident," he shrugged. "You know that don't 'cha, squirt?" He wrapped his arm rather forcefully around Richie's neck.
"Hey it could'a been anyone. But next time you decide to throw a fast ball, make sure you're on the diamond and I'm no where within hitting range," Richie answered with another forced smile. The reporters laughed.
"So, are the rumors true that you'll be taking O'Neal's place as captain next year?" Randi asked Richie.
Richie flushed a little. "I haven't heard that rumor. I'm sure I'll get my chance eventually, but not next year. There are some people waiting in line before me for that gig. You know, Sinclair, Brewer, Jeffries; I think one of them is going to get it."
"Would you like to?" the second reporter asked.
"Well, yeah, but I can wait my turn."
"Now if you'll excuse us," O'Neal interrupted having heard enough talk about his team being turned over to a show-off like Richie. "It's past this little guy's bed time." He ruffled Richie's hair big brotherly, Richie yawned dramatic and swatted his hand away. The reporters laughed appreciatively at their antics unaware that it was a unique form of the fistfight both players wanted to start.
O'Neal started to walk away with his arm still around Richie's neck, leaving Richie no option but to stagger along beside him trying to keep up with his long strides.
"I saw you and Heather kissing last night," O'Neal said in a sugar sweet voice once they got outside.
"So you nearly blew the game to get back at me?" Richie shot back; tired, sore, embarrassed and not up for having to put up with O'Neal.
"If you'd just do what I told you, stop dating my sister, then we wouldn't have a problem," he insisted.
"Like, hell," Richie said removing O'Neal's arm from around his neck. "This is your team and you hate that I'm on it. I don't particularly like playing with you either, you know. I'm sorry if you feel threatened or whatever but we're on the same team and you need to get a grip because I'm not going anywhere."
"I don't know what you're talking about."
"I saw your face when Randi mentioned me becoming captain. I'm not here to take over, I'm just here to play, so back off."
"You know what, Ryan? We're going to settle this once and for all," O'Neal said putting his fists up.
"What?"
"Come on, man. Let's just get this over with. You think you're so tough with your martial arts and everything, let's see how good you are when it counts."
Richie laughed. "I'm plenty good, trust me. I've gone up against people a lot scarier than you. And I'm not about to waste my time."
"Come on, Ryan. Let's see what you've got." O'Neal gave Richie a shove.
"No."
"Scared?"
"Not of you. I'm scared of getting booted off the team. I'm not risking it on you."
"Nobody has to know, you can just say you tripped or something."
"What makes you so sure I'd be the one needing the excuse?" Richie snarled being sure to keep his distance.
"I know I won't." O'Neal took a swing. "You talk big, why don't ya back it up?"
"Hey!" a voice yelled from across the arena parking lot.
Richie froze. "Oh, man."
"What do you two think you're doing?" Roberts demanded approaching them.
"Coach, I didn't do anything," Richie quickly insisted.
"We were just foolin' around," O'Neal shrugged.
"Really?" Roberts inquired. "Then why don't you use all this energy you seem to have for something constructive. Suit up, both of you."
"But, Coach," Richie protested.
"Do you really want to push me, Ryan?"
Richie sighed. "No."
"Excuse me?"
"No, sir," he corrected.
"Then I want both of you on the court in five minutes. Better get moving the clock's ticking."
Richie turned and walked back to the locker room. "Good going," he mumbled as O'Neal caught up with him.
Five minutes later Richie and O'Neal were sprinting back and fourth across the court each trying to out run the other. Roberts kept them there for an hour making them run the stairs and do push-ups. Not before both boys were sufficiently exhausted did he let them stop.
"O'Neal get out of here; Ryan, I want to see you in my office."
After he changed Richie knocked softly on Coach Robert's door.
"Come in, Ryan." Richie walked in and waited for permission to sit down. He wasn't given it.
'This is it,' he thought miserably. 'Pack up; you're going home.'
"Well?" Roberts asked expectantly.
"Yes?"
"Do you care to explain what was going on in the parking lot?"
"I didn't do anything," Richie said slowly. "He's just mad at me."
"So he decided to try to break your nose twice in one night?"
"Coach, nothing happened, I swear."
"I believe you, Ryan. Don't think I haven't noticed the way he picks on you. And don't think I haven't noticed the way you take it. I just wanted to let you know that if O'Neal doesn't straighten up he's going to get into some serious trouble. I don't want to risk the Final Four, but if I have to, I will bench him."
"Why are you telling me?"
"Because you provoke him, Ryan. And I know that you don't want to risk it for the entire team, and I know you don't want to risk any personal consequences, so watch it."
"Okay," Richie answered not very happy that O'Neal wasn't getting this little warning as well.
"Excuse me?"
Richie cleared his throat. "Yes, sir."
"Now get out of here. You have exams next week and I want to see some A's."
AN: I have a request for all you Missouri-ans reading this. I'm looking for a cute little quirk for Richie to pick up while at school. If you have any suggestions please E-MAIL them to me at Gosalyn@hotmail.com. Thanks!