Long Shot

I’ve blown it, Jupe thought as his face turned deep red from lack of oxygen. He’s going to kill me because I’ve found out about the bribes.

Marty laughed and jerked Jupe around some more, “You’re going to hurt for a year,” he said as he cocked back one enormous fist, ready to swing.

Jupe couldn’t help it. He closed his eyes and screamed.

“Marty, back off!” commanded a stern, angry voice.

The big hands immediately let go of Jupe’s neck and gave him a push backward. Jupe slumped to catch his breath.

The voice had come from a man standing behind the basketball player. When Marty stepped aside, Jupe saw it was Coach Duggan. He moved in between Jupe and Marty.

“Young man, if you want to get aggressive on the court, I’ll stand behind you a thousand percent. But if this is how you get tough with the world, then you disgrace yourself, and the team, and me.”

Duggan spoke firmly and Jupe saw that his words had an instant effect. Marty looked down at the bookstore floor and stared at the tiles.

“Now what’s this all about?” said the coach.

“I heard him on the phone,” Marty growled, looking at Jupe with cold hate. “He was talking, uh, talking about my girlfriend.”

Girlfriend? Jupe thought. Pat is his girlfriend? Was that the truth? Or was Marty trying to cover up about the basketball bribery?

Before Jupe could catch his breath enough to reply, Marty had mumbled an apology and fled. He disappeared through the crowd of students who were staring at the action by the pay phone.

Jupe and Coach Duggan looked at each other.

“He’s got a temper problem,” said the coach.

“You’re telling me. You must have your hands full,” said Jupe with a scratchy voice. He tucked his T-shirt back into his pants.

“He’ll come around... with the right rewards,” Coach Duggan said. “Important phone call? Talking to a girl?”

“Not exactly,” said Jupe.

“Talking about a girl?”

Jupe nodded shyly to that.

“Call her,” the coach said, almost as if it were an order.

Now? In front of you? Jupe thought. No way!

“I’m out of quarters,” Jupe lied.

“Ah.” Coach Duggan reached into his purple sweat-pants pocket and pulled out a coin. “Call her,” he said, putting a quarter in Jupe’s hand. “Don’t ever let something like money stand in the way of what you want.”

Jupe watched Coach Duggan walk away. Generous with his money, wasn’t he? How much of the phone call had he heard? Jupe had even mentioned Duggan by name.

Now Jupe was worried. He’d have to be more careful on campus, or he’d blow his cover before the case was anywhere near solved.

* * *

Jupe had a heavy schedule the next day, Wednesday. From eight a.m.  to one p.m. he had decided to take five different phys. ed. classes. Each class had at least one basketball player whom Jupe wanted to observe. But it cost him. Weightlifting, bowling, gymnastics, track and field, wrestling — the workout was grueling.

And the worst part was that every class was wall-to-wall jocks — and every one of them was in top physical condition! Pecs, abs, bi’s, and tri’s all toned to perfection. Compared with the other guys, Jupe felt like a tackling dummy.

By the end of the fifth class Jupe had learned a lot. First, that he should never attempt more than two phys. ed. classes per day — even in pursuit of clues for a case. He also learned that not all the basketball players were rolling in money. Some of them seemed suspiciously rich, but others were obviously average. Jupe decided to focus on the players who were friendliest and easiest to talk to.

At two o’clock he dragged himself into a sixth phys. ed. class. It was a course called Colorful Speaking. The idea of a speech course for athletes intrigued Jupe, but more important, this class was a chance to question two more of the starting basketball players — Cory Brand and Matt Douglass. Based on conversations with other players that morning, these were two of Jupe’s prime suspects.

Jupe arrived at the classroom and took a deep breath — to try and suck in his soft middle. Then he strode confidently into the room. He tried to melt into one of the seats in the back row.

The guy next to him was muscular, handsome, and sandy-haired. He was wearing some old jeans and a black T-shirt that fit tightly around his chest. The guy had round, dark tortoiseshell glasses. “How’s it going?” he asked.

“Thousand percent,” Jupe said, trying to sound like a jock.

“You new in this course?”

“Yeah. I ’m transferring from another school,” Jupe said with a private smile.

“Matt Douglass,” the guy said. “What’s your sport?”

“Jupiter Jones. Curling. It’s a demonstration sport at Shoremont this year. You’re in basketball?”

“And tennis,” Matt said.

He seems like a friendly enough guy, Jupe thought. Let’s see how he does under the hot lights. “I hear the guys on the basketball team here know how to party.”

“We do our best,” Matt said.

“Wild parties at your condo? Everyone says they’re totally awesome.”

“Not my condo. I rent a small room off campus.

“Must be Cory you’re talking about.” Matt gestured toward Cory Brand — a tall, muscular, handsome guy a couple rows away.

Cory Brand seemed to collect things that began with C — condo, Corvette, cheerleader. Jupe was very interested, but he wasn’t done with Matt Douglass.

“You going down to Tijuana for spring break? Someone told me that’s where Shoremont students head,” Jupe said.

“Spring break I’m holding down two jobs so I can make my spring tuition,” said Matt.

Good, Jupe thought. At least he was asking the right questions. But Matt was giving him surprising answers. Jupe had now learned about four of the starting players on the basketball team. Walt Klinglesmith, Mr. Mont Blanc pen, obviously had money. Cory Brand, according to the cheerleaders and to teammates had money and was a party animal cum laude. Marty Lauffer was just an animal, period. Jupe hadn’t had a chance to ask him about his bank account while Marty was strangling him. But now he was meeting Matt, who didn’t seem to be getting any bribes. Some players had money, some didn’t. What was the pattern?

Jupe began to sift his memory, trying to figure it out. Matt and Marty were seniors... Tim, the fifth starter, was a junior... Cory and Walt were sophomores. In his mind, Jupe ran through all the other players he’d met. It seemed like the youngest guys were getting bribes, the oldest weren’t. The pattern didn’t make much sense to Jupe, but it was a pattern worth investigating. Jupe glanced at Cory Brand. Yes, talking to him was a good idea — as soon as class was over.

A moment later the course instructor walked in and laid his attaché case on the desk. He was a handsome man with smooth, dark hair, and he was in great physical condition, too — probably a former athlete.

“Good afternoon, ladies and gentlemen, and welcome back to Colorful Speaking! I’m your instructor, Al Windsor!” He said everything in a loud, overly friendly voice.

Why was he talking so loud? Why was he trying to make everything sound so important and exciting? Suddenly it dawned on Jupe exactly what kind of speech course this was. It was a broadcasting course! All these guys were here to learn how to become sportscasters after their sports careers were over.

“The classroom conditions are perfect,” announced Al Windsor. “And the players are at the pinnacle of their training. So I think we’re going to have a great class for you today, filled with the kind of excitement you’ve come to