39
The Bigger They Are
Everything about the new home of the Los Angeles Sea Lions was impressive: the size, the octagonal shape, the sleek, colorful seating, state-of-the-art sound system, strategically placed food courts boasting everything from popcorn to sushi and lobster to Kobe beef, and the suites that companies and a few rich patrons purchased for well into the six figures. Inside one of these luxuriously appointed rooms was where thirty or so people mixed and mingled, some inside the room, watching the first minutes of the first quarter of the preseason game from the television screens, and others outside in their private block of seats. Hope encouraged Cy to join his associates outside while she tried yet again to reach Frieda. “I knew we should have gone by there and picked her up,” she mumbled, after getting voice mail yet again. But knowing how important this game was to Tony and by extension, Stacy, Hope had been certain that Frieda would be there. Although, truthfully, she understood why her cousin was a no-show. The past week had been horrible, and that was putting it mildly. The Frieda that Hope had encountered when she arrived in LA was not a woman she’d recognized. Her cousin had been distraught, inconsolable, and had broken down and cried in Hope’s arms. “I’ve ruined the best thing that happened to me,” Frieda had wailed. “He won’t even take my calls.” Hope had spent the night and then demanded Frieda come stay in La Jolla for a couple days. After long talks on the patio followed by long walks on the beach, Hope had felt Frieda rational enough to not do something crazy and hadn’t protested when Frieda hired a car to go home. And now I’m getting voice mail. Hope’s worry returned. She sent Frieda a text, looking up just as Stacy entered the room.
“Hey, girl,” Stacy said, giving Hope a hug.
“Hey, Mrs. Johnson,” Hope said, taking in Stacy’s immaculate appearance. The designer pantsuit she wore, equal parts sexy and classy, was tailored to perfection, her custom sandals rocked, and her short cut was ridiculously whipped. “You look like a model!”
“Thank you, Hope. With the buzzards flying around the paychecks you know I had to represent. This is nice.” She looked around Cy’s company suite, nodding as she did so. “Y’all almost have a better view than the wives.” Taking in the group outside their windows, she added, “Where’s Frieda? In the restroom?”
“She hasn’t shown up yet and I can’t reach her on the phone.”
“You think she’s all right?” Frieda had broken the news to Stacy during her stay at Hope’s house.
“I hope so.”
“Do you think we should go over there?”
“Let me worry about Frieda. This is your hubby’s big moment. If I haven’t heard from her by the end of the game, Cy and I will swing by her condo. Come on, let’s go outside and try and enjoy ourselves. I want to be sure and not miss when Big Tony takes the field!”
The two ladies joined Cy outside and soon they were caught up in the excitement of preseason football. The fact that there’d been a drought of football in Los Angeles was apparent by the packed stadium that sat sixty-thousand plus. It didn’t hurt that they were playing an old nemesis, the Broncos. But it probably wouldn’t have mattered if they were playing Mickey Mouse and company. Angelenos were ready to have a good time. They were ready for some football!
“Hello, Stacy.” Cy rose to greet his wife’s friend with a kiss on the cheek. He moved aside so that they could sit in his row. “You’re looking good.”
“Thanks, Cy. I appreciate it. Thanks for coming to support Tony.”
“You know I’d be here. He’s my brother, and I’m a fan.”
“Really?” Hope said. “I thought basketball was your passion.”
“Baby, basketball is my game, but sports is my passion.”
“Ha! Fair enough.”
Hope grabbed Stacy’s arm. “I’m so happy for you, girl,” she said, her voice low enough for a conversation just between them. “I know how hard you prayed for this moment, for your man to get back to what he loves, back in the game. I’m so glad God answered your prayer.”
“Me too,” Stacy said, her eyes shining with excitement. “Me too.”
Down on the field, Tony prowled the sidelines like a caged tiger, watching the line and the men he’d guard once in the game. He’d trained hard for this moment and knew he was ready. “Come on, man! Go get it, baby. Yeah!” He pounded a fist into his palm, his eyes glued to the field. A couple guys came up to him, gave him a pat. They knew how important the night was to him, how special it was to be back on the field. They also knew that his spot on the roster wasn’t totally assured, that the coaches were still trying out combinations to see who would work together the best. Two minutes into the second quarter, Tony got his shot. “Johnson!” He nodded, put on his helmet, and trotted out on the field.
“There he is. He’s going in!” Stacy shook Hope’s shoulder, not even trying to hide her excitement. She was happy and nervous at the same time. God, please take care of my baby. The ball was snapped, the runner moved forward, and Tony made one helluva tackle. A few plays later, he made another one that prevented a Bronco touchdown. The half ended and he was still in the lineup, looking great. After halftime, Tony’s supporters were all happy to see him trot back on the field. He lined up for the first play of the second half, eyed his target and as soon as the ball was handed off dove in for the tackle. The timing was perfect. The tackle was clean. But when everyone came out of the pileup, Stacy saw that Tony was still lying on the field, holding his knee. Oh. No.