For over an hour Dave was hounded by reporters, tournament officials and people from the hospital. Even his teammates were asking him for the real reason why Barry was late. He could think of nothing more to tell them than that Barry overslept. This revelation, though true as far as Dave was concerned, was met with more skepticism. After listening to his speech for the third time, one of the hospital public relations people approached him.
“Mr. McCall, I’m Laura Howard with Children’s Mercy Hospital. Perhaps you remember me. We met at the cocktail party the other night?”
“Yes I remember. Hello.” He gave her his customary friendly grin.
“Do you mind my asking if Barry mentioned Roxanne when you spoke with him?” She had a worried look, he thought.
“Who the hell is Roxanne? Oh, sorry. I have to learn to watch my language.” He felt embarrassed, and more than a little puzzled.
“No problem. I guess that answers my question.” She left it at that and walked away.
Barry Dennis simply did not oversleep for an important event, Dave thought. He didn’t even oversleep for unimportant things, much less this. Dave stood in the lobby holding his cell phone, debating whether to call again. It was ten thirty now.
“You are trying to hide something—I’ll bet he’s been injured and you’re trying to keep it hushed up until you know if he’ll be playing. What about it, Dave? How serious is the injury?” the reporter from the Boston Globe, Kevin Moroni, asked
“No. I’m serious. He really did oversleep, Kevin. Why would I lie about something as embarrassing as that?” They walked out to where the team’s coach was standing, in a corner of the clubhouse where refreshments were being served until the event would officially begin.
They joined the coach and he looked worried. “Dave, it’s all right. Tell us what happened to Barry. You can keep it off the record, can’t you, Kevin? Besides, it can’t be anything too serious or I would have heard about it,” Coach John Benson assured the reporter.
“Look, Coach, he should be here soon—at least that’s what he told me. Let him explain it to you. All I know is what he told me.” Dave shoved his hands through his mop of hair and turned away in exasperation. He was starting to have his own doubts. He assumed that Barry was still in bed with a woman named Roxanne after Laura Howard’s question, but Barry hadn’t said so. His assumption was based on Barry being a normal red-blooded male—not that he wasn’t—but sometimes Barry seemed to be more superhuman than most. Barry rarely—no never—succumbed to normal human distractions. Nothing ever interfered with his professional life that Dave knew of.
The crowd of spectators grew as the start time for the tournament approached. The men inside, the paying participants, celebrities from various sports, press people, and Children’s Mercy Hospital representatives alike began murmuring. Dave had the uneasy feeling that they were spreading rumors about Barry Dennis’s mysterious absence. After all, he was the star attraction of the event.
Finally, Dave spotted Barry’s black Cadillac Eldorado stealthily driving up to the curb like a sleek black alley cat trying to sneak by. Dave rushed out to talk to him before any of the press did, but he was too late. Kevin Moroni got to him first and took him into the pressroom. Coach Benson and Dave followed them into the room arranged with chairs, tables, computers and printers. The door was closed after them.
“All right, let’s have it.” Kevin wasted no time. All three looked at Barry expectantly. Barry had no idea what to say to them and looked at Dave for help. Dave merely shrugged his massive shoulders with an apologetic look.
“Didn’t Dave tell you?” Barry stalled, suddenly finding the situation embarrassing. He looked at his watch and started to rise from the chair they had backed him into. “It’s late already. We better get started…”
“Not so fast. I’d like to hear it from you.” Kevin was relentless with his pencil poised. Barry looked at them all in disbelief. The coach had his arms crossed expectantly.
“I overslept. I’m sorry, but there’s nothing I can do about it now except get out there and get on with it.” He rose again from his chair, and this time he was determined to get out of there.
“That’s it? You sure you’re not trying to hide anything?” Kevin questioned.
Barry concentrated a stare at the reporter, wordlessly telling him he was out of line. It was Coach Benson who responded.
“Now you know better than that, Kevin. If Barry says he overslept, then that’s it. Everyone’s entitled once in a while.” Coach Benson slammed his fist on the table.
“I guess so. Barry Dennis is human after all,” Kevin observed and everyone laughed except Barry.
“No, I’m not. This was just a test to see how much you all really cared.” Barry laughed at his own joke along with the rest of them. As they all started outside the room to get on with the tournament, Kevin pulled Barry aside.
“You know we really thought you were hurt or ill or something—you sure everything is okay? I’m not trying to question you or anything—it’s just not like you to make such a simple mistake as oversleeping.”
Barry responded to the concern in Kevin’s voice and because he had known him since he first came to Boston to be a fair reporter.
“I did oversleep, plain and simple. But I can tell you—no I can promise you—I will never make that mistake again.” Barry didn’t realize he’d said it with such vehemence until he noted Kevin’s reaction; Dave heard him too. They both looked mollified; convinced that this was a freak incident in the basketball-dedicated life of the legendary Barry Dennis.
But Barry wasn’t so sure. They went out to the first tee and any questions about the delay were brushed off with statements about interviews running late. Barry took center stage and he did his job, playing host to the large audience from beginning to end. All the while, whenever he stood alone to concentrate quietly on a putt, or looked off into the distance to follow a drive, he saw her image. He saw her flirtatious eyes and seductive smile, her chestnut hair billowing out around her face against the pillows, her voluptuous body lounging invitingly, calling to him. This had to stop.
“Barry, wait a minute. Stay and have something to eat with me,” Dave invited, catching up with Barry just as he was about to have his car brought around. The tournament and autograph signing were over.
“Great idea. It’ll give me a chance to tell you about Roxanne.” Barry needed to talk with someone about it. He walked back into the country club to the restaurant with Dave.
“Roxanne again? Who the hell is she anyway? This is the second time her name came up today,” Dave told him.
Barry smiled at his friend’s puzzlement. It wasn’t a wise thing to tell Dave any secrets, but he felt a strong compulsion to tell someone about her. He didn’t know why. It wasn’t a matter of bragging. In fact, he was definitely not proud of having spent the weekend with another woman. He thought of Susan. She would be crushed if she knew. They were in the process of breaking up, but he should have done it cleanly. He felt guilty now and figured that must be why he needed to talk to someone about it.
That and something else. Even though he knew it wasn’t fair to Susan, he had no regrets about the weekend he spent with Roxanne. She excited him. He thought of the possibility of spending more time with her. Then he caught himself and shook his head.
When they took their seats at their table and the hostess disappeared, he answered his friend’s question.
“I was with her Friday night.”
“The woman in the car? I didn’t figure she was someone you knew. Want to hear something funny? I thought you two just met Friday night and you were picking her up. I should have known better.” Dave was grinning again.
“She’s the reason I overslept this morning,” Barry admitted.
“What? What do you mean?”
“I mean we spent the weekend together at my house.” He thought he was getting through now, but no.
“She spent the weekend at your house? Poor woman must h
ave been bored stiff. What did she do—watch you work out, play hoops and eat?” Dave laughed.
“I didn’t work out—or play hoops.” Barry made the statement as if he realized it that moment himself.
“What? You didn’t work out or play hoops? Are you kidding? What the hell did you do…” Dave stopped himself short. His mouth dropped and Barry could swear he turned a shade of pink.
Was it so incredible? Yes, Barry thought, it was. He wasn’t exactly known to be an impulsive person. He was more the compulsive type by far. But not this weekend.
“You got it,” Barry said.
“But…”
“Don’t worry. It won’t happen again. Just one of those things.” He didn’t sound convincing to himself either. Dave laughed at him.
“So, the great Barry Dennis has clay feet big time. You cheat on your girl, miss an entire weekend of working out and then oversleep for an important event—she must have been some woman.” The teasing smile on his friend’s face creased in lines around his eyes and mouth.
Barry looked at his best friend on the Celtics team—hell, his best friend period. He hadn’t seen much of his boyhood friends in years. Hadn’t had time or much in common. His life had been basketball 24/7 since he could remember. Judging by the look on Dave’s face, he was going to have to spill some details soon.
“She was. Who knows, maybe we’ll continue the affair—someday. But not until long after I’m retired from basketball. Then I might have half a chance at handling a woman like her.”
“That wild, eh?” Dave prodded, and leaned closer on his huge elbows.
“It was intense.” Barry didn’t want to say more. He thought about her. He liked thinking about her. But could he risk seeing her again? What was he really afraid of anyway? Of course he had to see her again, professionally, that is, for the interview he’d promised. He frowned now, worrying that maybe he shouldn’t have made that promise. Another impulsive move. He didn’t want to lead her on, but then he almost laughed at himself for worrying about her. She was definitely a big enough girl to take care of herself where men were concerned. He figured she had an abundance of experience. Not likely anything to worry about there.
Now Susan was another matter. Their relationship had been convenient for him, but she wanted more. He didn’t have any more for her. It was over and he knew it. He’d been restless and he supposed that’s part of the reason he took Roxanne home with him. But only part of it.
While Barry thought about Roxanne while he ate, Dave kept on a steady stream of play-by-play on his golf game that day.
“What happened to your last putt?” Dave asked with a grin.
“Me? I thought you said you’ve been living on the golf course this summer. If this is how you play when you practice you definitely ought to stick to B-ball,” Barry chided as they walked outside when they’d finished.
“Yeah? What about your drive on the eighth?” Dave reminded him.
“I planned it that way. I ended up with a par on that hole didn’t I?”
“Yeah, but who’s going to pay for that poor guy’s operation since you hit him with your flying two iron?” They both laughed at his exaggeration.
“Seriously, come out and play golf with me tomorrow morning. You could use the practice,” Dave invited him.
“I think I could use the hoop practice even more.” Barry resigned himself to getting back to the reality of his work regimen. Dave slapped him on the back.
“That’s what I like to hear. The old Barry’s back. Watch those wild weekends now.” Dave and Barry parted, walking to their respective cars.
It wasn’t until after he walked into the house that Barry realized Susan was home. Her bags were on the floor in the foyer. She must have caught an earlier flight than expected, because he was supposed to pick her up at the airport later that night.
He also remembered, with a groan, the condition he and Roxanne left his bedroom in that morning in their rush to leave the house. He suddenly felt pity for Susan. He knew that she loved him. They had lived together only five months because it was the only way he could maintain a relationship with a woman. She had always been loving and understanding from the beginning. He now knew that he had never loved her back. Their relationship had been nothing but a repeat of the mistakes of his marriage. He didn’t want it to end this way, but he was helpless to salvage the situation now.
He was still standing there in the foyer with his golf bag over his shoulder as she came down the stairs. Her face was tearstained and he didn’t know what to say, but he felt compelled to say something.
“Are you coming or going?” He gestured to the bags. She reached the bottom of the stairs. She wasn’t a petite woman, but she looked it next to him. She was average size with shoulder length blonde hair and clear blue eyes. She turned those eyes up to his now, and they were red and filled with pain. Then she answered his question with a catch in her voice.
“Can give me a reason to stay any longer?” She tried to smile, but only succeeded in looking more pitiful in her hopefulness, he thought.
“You don’t have to go now,” was all he could manage with any sincerity. He didn’t want to keep her under any illusions. He wasn’t the kind of man who would use a woman—or was he? Had he been using Susan all this time without realizing it? Taking her love and giving nothing of himself in return? He wouldn’t take from her any longer. He would let her go. Susan’s head dropped with his response.
“I think I should go right away.” She paused and seemed to have something more to say as she picked up her bags. He waited for her to speak.
“You can send the rest of my things…” She moved to the door and he turned to watch her go before she said what she had to. He wanted to say something more to her, something to make it up to her, but there was nothing.
“I always knew you probably didn’t really love me. Your only love was always basketball. I couldn’t get used to that. I hadn’t counted on there being other women too.” Susan’s voice trailed off and she turned to go out the door but he couldn’t resist asking.
“How did you know that I wasn’t in love with you?” He was astounded. She laughed without humor.
“It’s pretty obvious to anyone who sees you play basketball that that’s where your heart and soul is.” She sighed and then she left. His ex-wife had said pretty much the same thing.
He stood there holding his golf bag, not knowing what to do next. His weekend with Roxanne was over, but the repercussions were not. When the goose bumps sprang up, he felt very uneasy.
After an early workout the next morning, Barry felt better. Determined to get back to his schedule, he arrived early at the local college for a preseason practice. Only Coach Benson was there, in the office, reading the sports page of that morning’s Boston Globe. An immediate sense of dread assailed Barry when the coach looked up at him from behind the paper. John Benson sat at the desk with his expression holding a look of concern. It was the look that everyone on the team knew meant no good.
Barry took the seat next to the desk and didn’t say a word. He waited for the coach to say what it was he had to say.
“Have you seen this morning’s paper?” The coach shoved the paper in front of Barry’s face so he could.
“Note the lead on the article that was supposed to be about the charity golf tournament.” He prompted Barry to read it aloud.
“Basketball star Barry Dennis arrived late to the charity tournament yesterday, delaying the crowds and causing much speculation. Apparently the guru of basketball, the reincarnation of the work ethic, merely overslept.” Barry slapped the paper down. He was not a guru or a reincarnation of anything, he thought to himself, and if they thought so, then that was their problem. .
“And that was written by our friend, Kevin.” The coach nearly shouted. Barry couldn’t remember seeing him this agitated off a basketball court.
“Why such excitement about one minor off-season article in the Globe?”
“Because I t
hink there’s more here than meets the eye. What is it you’re not telling me?” Barry was taken aback by the question. Things had gotten all out of perspective and it was time he set the record straight.
“There is absolutely no need to worry, coach. It’s not that big a deal. I met a woman. That’s why I overslept and why I didn’t work out over the weekend.”
“Didn’t work out?” Coach Benson’s voice thundered. Barry winced. He realized immediately after he had said it that he shouldn’t have.
“Calm down, Coach, I’m back on my regimen. I took one weekend off.” Even Barry had to admit that didn’t sound like him. The coach paused for a few moments and seemed to scrutinize him, weighing the matter, as if to determine the severity of the problem like he was a giant puzzle with a missing piece.
“Barry, you don’t seem to understand what’s happening here. I’m just beginning to see it myself and I don’t like it. Not one bit. But I suppose it was bound to happen sooner or later—I was always hoping it would be later, when you were ready for retirement, not now while you’re in your prime.”
“Now wait a minute, you’re getting excited over nothing. As far as basketball’s concerned, nothing’s changed. I’m still dedicated, hard working, and the toughest damned competitor anyone will ever come up against.” Barry got up from his chair and began pacing, determined that he was right in his convictions. When he stopped pacing as he faced the coach, the man was shaking his head with almost a sad look on his face.
“But don’t you see, Barry? Basketball has been your woman all these years. You’ve carried on this love affair with basketball with such intense passion that you’ve become the best player ever to play the game. And I don’t want that to change, not yet. But you seem to have gotten distracted.” The coach waved at the paper.
“I was restless. I’m not anymore. It won’t happen again.”
Playing the Game Page 6
