'Thanks a lot, doc.'
He grinned, patted my shoulder.
'You played a damn good game.'
'Nice line, wasn't it?'
'Theirs or ours?' he giggled.'
'Why the hell do you think I'm here?'
'You played a good game,' he said.
'Good?' I said. 'With that line, it was pure crap!'
He patted my shoulder again, giggled and went out. I took a nap. When I woke up, Miss Cassidy was standing beside my bed, getting ready to stick a thermometer into my mouth. Before she stuck it in I said, 'What're you doing tomorrow night?'
She didn't look at me. She was the most beautiful woman I'd seen in a long time. She just stood there, waggling the thermometer, waiting for me to stop talking. Her breasts jiggled against her white uniform. I stared at them, feeling my prick come to life. Down, boy. Down.
'Did you hear me?' I said.
She lifted her eyelids faintly, but her head did not move. She looked at me. She nodded and returned her gaze to the thermometer. Then she quickly jabbed the thermometer right into my open mouth, right under my tongue and picked up my wrist and looked at her watch, and started to take my pulse. I mumbled something but it wasn't any use with the thermometer in my mouth. I shut up until she took it out.
'Look,' I said. 'If you're married, say so.'
She studied the thermometer and wrote her report on my chart. She started toward the door.
'Get a good rest,' she said. 'The doctor said you can leave tomorrow.' She shut the door quickly.
I closed my eyes; my body filling with desire as I thought of her. I thought of running my hands over her breasts, her nipples thickening and then hardening, pointing at me, aching for my teeth to bite into them. Ah, her silky soft pussy, her lovely smooth skin, but suddenly my prick wasn't hard. I couldn't stop thinking about her, but in my thoughts she had on all her clothes. I wanted to see her naked, but no matter how hard I tried, I couldn't see her naked body. They have done something to your head, Scallen, I told myself. But I wasn't worried. I'd felt a little like this after some rough games after being kicked in the head. It would pass… yet I was worried. It had not been this much of a sexual block before. Not after a rough game. It was something else. Why in hell couldn't I undress Miss Cassidy and have a few nice thoughts? Maybe the trouble was I was feeling like a kid again, and I didn't know it. Maybe I was falling in love with Cassidy and didn't know it. No, she was only another gorgeous dish and I wanted some of it. Then I remembered how goddamn tough the war and football had made me. Yes, until Leighton's wife. I'd felt tender and loving toward her, and now it was happening to me for the second time in my life. I didn't want to get mixed up with any woman, and I mustn't screw or drink myself to death. And I didn't want to fall in love.
I got out of the hospital about noon and went looking for Mary Cassidy. Clara Cook was on the floor station desk.
'When will Miss Cassidy be on duty?' I asked.
'Tomorrow evening.'
'Do you know where I can reach her?'
'We're not in the habit of giving out phone numbers of our nurses to any of the patients.'
'Well, well,' I said. 'I just want to send her flowers for her help while I was here.'
'Nurses are not allowed to accept gratuities from any patient.'
'I'd love to give you a gratuity, Miss Cook.'
Miss Cook walked out from behind the floor station desk and down the hall.
I called a taxi and drove over to my hotel and called Binks. He wasn't in. Well, I had a day to rest up before reporting to practice. I didn't feel like resting. I wanted a work out. My car was out in the motel lot. The team was practicing kick off returns, blocking the third and fourth man on the defense. It was a good play, if you didn't use it in every game. It was sunny and clear and cool. I wore a T-shirt, shorts and cleats.
I walked over to the coach. He wasn't a bad guy, Jim Reed. He'd played ten years with the Giants, and he was hoping to make the Viking staff one of these days, too. Yet I wondered why the Giants hadn't picked him up as a scout. He'd been a damn good halfback. He looked glum.
'Binks wants to see you,' he said, not even looking at me.
Down at the end of the field Vakos was passing to Leighton.
'I've called him twice,' I said.
'He's down in the dressing room. He wants to see you.'
I felt rotten suddenly. They were going to give me the axe. Win the game for them and get the axe. Some pay-off. Break your ass and get the chop.
Binks was going through the locker. I wondered what the hell he was looking for. He turned around suddenly, looking embarrassed.
'Oh,' he said, blushing, like he'd caught his hand in the cookie jar. I pretended not to notice.
'Well, I'm back,' I said. I, looked at him standing there. He seemed to watch me closely. He turned slowly away from one locker.
'What do you want?'
'The contract.'
'What contract?'
'I won, didn't I?'
'We won,' he said.
'Come on, don't play games. A deal's a deal.'
'What deal?'
'Bull ' I said
'Come on down to the office tomorrow.'
'Bullshit,' I said. I walked over to him. He knew I could take him apart. He knew it would ruin me in football, but there were some other factors he wasn't thinking about. And I knew them. Like being a prick in the business and telling Sports Illustrated the real story.
'Well,' he said softly, smiling, lounging with a kind of sudden indolence against the locker.
'Don't give me any crap,' I said.
'Hoo, baby!' He started to chuckle. I socked him in the chest and rammed him back against the locker. His nostrils flicked white with rage. But he didn't move.
'If I win I get a contract,' I said. 'If I lose, I get five bills. Remember?'
'Come on down to the office tomorrow.'
'No way.' I poked a finger against his chest. 'You go out there and tell Reed I'm throwing to Leighton today. Now.'
He studied his fingernails, both hands, then swinging his eyes down, yet with that kinky, curvy smile on his lips, he slipped past me, silently.
I followed him upstairs. Reed was talking to his assistant coaches. Binks called him over, about twenty yards away from the coaches.
'I want Matt to throw some with Leighton,' said Binks coldly.
Reed's face didn't change, but his eyes flickered for a fraction of a second. He didn't answer. Reed looked at me and jerked his head, beckoning.
It was funny walking in on Vakos and Leighton. They were still down at the far end of the field, with Klobuchar, a center from Ely Junior College, who'd tried out with the Vikings but hadn't made it.
'Hello, hot dogs,' I grinned at Vakos. Screw you, Leighton, I thought, but I gave Leighton a nice smile to let him know that if I ever found my Boy Scout knife I'd stick it up his ass.
'Trade off,' Reed said to Vakos. Leighton looked at Reed like Reed had lost his mind, but he didn't say anything because Reed's voice sounded tight and strained and hard.
It felt good to have the ball in my hands again. No matter how you look at it, the best pass outside of the sideline pass against any defense is the slant pass.
It's a good pass to warm up on. I tried three and Leighton dogged it on all three. I didn't say anything to him,
