Over the Top

The GROUP, b-ball plus, 6, who's the plus? It don't matter, floor today, plus tomorrow, floor the day after. B-ball the exercise of choice for the group, pretty much like the group. Come from work. Go to the Y, run hard, play fast, talk smack. Push and shove, run hard picks, talk trash. Fall on your ass type of play. Get up fast don't let them see you hurt, they will eat you alive, just like work don't stop someone breathing on your ass. Don't keep score, who cares, proud points.

Bunch of high level executive types playing in the company gym. Not hardly, at the YMCA, taking on the top high school and U players. Cutoff sweat shorts, t-shirts with the arms cut off. Sweat running off, playing pick-up games. Not very often, nobody likes to play against the group, No pick-up game, play with the plus, 3 on 3. The group plays together, IF you want to play pick-up bring a team. Most teams don't like to play the group, plays hard and wouldn't stop running. Most pick-up ball likes to stop, admire, and talk about how they did. Group talks shit on the run. Mostly it's because the group is a joint team. When it's all on the floor and running hard, clicking together. It's almost like a hive mind, don't stop and think, it's already too late. Throw the pass...he...will...be...there, just like work with the company, we will always be there. It's when you stop and doubt he won't be there. The loft to the hoop, balls already in the air, center pushing for height, BAM. Inlet guard, behind the back pass to Tom, don't look, there, ball flying cross court to me slaps my hands hard, stings, legs back on the up, wrist over the top. Baseline 3point, just the net. Could you possibly think of a better therapy for a bunch of work-driven, office-caged, decision-making assholes?? I...don't...think...so.

The group is SOLID, all from the company, no cubical dwellers here. All with offices, PAs, and secretaries. Group runs the company, Group is the company, CEO, CFO, COO, Director Human of Resources, VP of Resources, and the IT Department. BIG company. One met two in high school, one in college, and the rest from the company. Only one from money, if you just met everyone together, couldn't tell who, I won't tell. Only one married, Thomas and Alex. Alexandria boy is she a hoot, has to be, she is almost in the group. She has it hard, a lot to put up with. Part time husband, long hours, travel, high stress, fast pace, and the group, plus her own job. It's like having a family with six older brothers and no parental control, one baby sister. Tom Alex, just like that. Zero degree separation. Born next door, parents lived there 35 plus years, Tom 28 Alex 26. Another girl, the thought never went though the Tom's head. Tom Alex jointed at the hip, no in the hip, heart to heart. To the end of story, plus.

Alex, beautiful little sister, not really, only child, group little sister. About 5ft 6 all woman in a tight little package, teaches yoga, runs with Tom, maybe 110-115 lbs. Red hair...long, green eyes and freckles, can't count them. We asked Tom if he tried, no, too many, but it was sure fun to try, made my tongue hard thinkin' about it. No way though, too much like incest, the entire group says the same. Alex watches sports with us, yell, scream, holler, slap you on the ass, pat you on the back, slap you up backside of the head, and call you fuckin' stupid. She'll be here later. Plays a couple of games during baseball, bets how long it will be until some player digs crotch on TV. She watches the player, how he plays, runs, hands feet nose, how he scratches. According to the formula she will tell you how big his dick is, loudly. Like I said she's a hoot.

Only one thing wrong with Alex, like most women, she can't stand to see a man alone. Met the BITCH. Bitch decided I was it. Bitch decided I worked too much, didn't spend enough time with her, had too much money, she would help with that, needed to grow up. "Less group and basketball." She needed more commitment, more emotional support, more social standing. More social standing meant I had to accept my "major leadership role" in business and the community at large. This meant more parties, balls, charity events, opera, and dance. I didn't need to be running to the Y all the time for basketball. I needed to dress to present dignity and decorum. The group and even Alex finally agreed with me, I didn't need the Bitch. I was wasting time and becoming an ass at work. So I dumped her ass. All the single guys in the group have been handed their version of the bitch. We got together and told Tom he HAD to explain the facts of life to Alex. Then turn her upside down and spank her, ass. So much for good intentions, he said she liked it, women, oh well.

Gray, Grayson Jerome Allen, rows, columns, numbers. Makes a picture to Gray, picture makes a movie, movie makes a story. Gray can tell anything that's going on in the entire company. Gray always says "money knows, everything flows though money and numbers can't lie. Numbers tell the story; if you can't read the story, get out of the kitchen." CFO, group. Big for a man, real hard body, don't collide with him, fuckin rock. Gets up 0-dark thirty, runs, and runs. Shower, off to work, maybe lunch corner deli for 30 mins, not at the ritzy hotel restaurant for 2 hours, back to work. Gray's PA covers about half the miles he will in a morning, at work that's a lot, if she wants to keep up with Gray better haul her butt. Her secretary will cover half again as many miles, mental, planning, talking, mostly from her desk.

If anyone in the group is said to be typical. It might be Gray: hard, lean, hungry, real hungry. Hard charger at, work, life or play. No excuses, can't spend the time, learn, and move on, be another mistake later to cry over, if you want to. Late 20's maybe early 30's, nothing special to look at, no dress to impress kind of guy. Why want the spotlight? It just makes everyone want to fuck with you, takes the decisions away from you. Spend too much time to get back to where you want to go. All of the group feels that way, stay out of the center, we don't have a company me wall. All the executives' portraits lined up in a row, past and present. There is a small area in the largest conference room with the most historical leaders, but it's been there for decades. Diplomas, certificates, awards posted in your office if you want to, most of the group don't. No news letter with photographs showing the company officers. I've always felt that's not the message that leaders need to show our people. We as leaders are not the ones that make the company go. We only point the direction, try to keep all the people going that way and give them what they need to get there. Then get the hell out of the way. Plus I want to go uptown have a beer with the group. The ones that need to be stroked in the newsletters and get their pictures taken, are the ones who help us to go faster. The group has done a lot of melding and blending together, so most of our leadership ideas are amalgamated from each other. A lot from me too, it's sort of my group, back to the guys.

We have talked about Mike a little. Quite a bit about Tom and Alex, plus Gray. So I'll try and run down the rest of them. Michel Lee Jensen, Ex. Professional baseball pitcher, New York Yankees, yeah he had it made. The arm injury was very unfortunate, dramatic and public. Second year of his career, third game of the World Series, bottom of the eighth inning, winning 6 to 1, count 1 to 2 to the batter. Blew out his elbow on the pitch, right on camera you can see the arm go WRONG, very wrong. Young career, top of his game, wining the big game on national TV. Done in one pitch, been very tough to take. Most people would be down for the count. Mike had his path already planned and in the works, made the final arrangements as he went through rehab. Bulled through rehab, in half the projected time. Moved on with his life in a new direction. As I said, he's our IT manager over the whole corporation. It's a large company, seven major cities, and two counties. Only Ken could tell you how many employees there are.

Kennrath David Smyth III, our Human Resource Director. Oops, I guess I shouldn't have mentioned his full name. Now you know who has the silver spoon and the old money. If you talked, walked and dealt with Ken you would see that he's just like the rest of the group. Changed a little in the melding and blending along with the rest of us. The only thing that would stand out is his age; he's just a little older than the rest of us. We don't acknowledge that too much, okay we might call him old man on the court if he's a little slow on the count. Not very often. Might call him dad just to fuck with his head. I'm the only one that knows more dirty tricks on the court, since I played Big Ten b-ball all four years of school. Power forward, I'm big, tall, and strong, big feet and hands. I've learned to use caution around everyone.

Don't let Ken fool you, he's just as fast, hard, and hungry as the rest of the group. Devious a touch too. Ken is the only holdover from the Old Man's crew. He was the youngest then, loved the Old Man, but everyone felt that he was young enough to make the transition the easiest, jumping to a new group. They have been proved right, he's there right there. As I've said it's a BIG company seven major cities, two countries. Right here in this city we have four main buildings, several branches, satellite offices, department head complexes, and division annexes. (Sounds familiar?) Most people don't know who works where, Ken knows it all, and maps it all in the back of his mind. He knows Bernie, the mail transfer carrier in building3. Mary Ellen, the office manager for the engineering group in building1, and James, the security chief in building4. Ken tries to tell us he's not an office person, gets paper cuts, no shit, well he tries.

He says he has nine full offices, each with a full staff and a manager to handle the forms and paper work. Trouble doesn't come from the forms; if it does, he has nine managers that better fuckin' fix it. Trouble comes from the people, and he better know what he can ahead of time. He realizes he can't know everyone but he knows, Bernie has two kids, both full grown, and he's ready to retire. Maybe one of his sons would fit in the company. James is looking for a wife, Ken thinks he might like Sue in building2. Ken said it's called HUMAN RESOURCES.

Only two left, this one's' kind of a surprise, too. Dennis Mickel Allen that's right. Grayson Jerome Allen, brothers, TWIN brothers, IDENTICAL twin brothers. It's a good thing they take pity on us mere mortals and don't screw with our minds, too much. They DON'T dress alike, or answer each other's questions, split sentences, switch places, or offices. They try as much as they can to be two different people and let others know which they are. The only time they really fuck with people is on the b-ball court, then it's just too easy to resist. When they play guards, the timing is a dream to watch, rolls, picks, figure eights, overlaps. They can have a player spinning like a Ballerina en Pointe'. In my nasty imagination, what would it be to a girl who took them both to bed? Upside down, left, right, head or foot, she wouldn't know what, was what, but I bet she would have a lot of fun. I know they would.

Likes to be called Mick. I told them that instead of red blood cells, they have numbers flowing through their hearts. Gray CPA. Mick engineering; mechanical and electrical. When asked, he said chemicals stink and are very messy, don't like them. Two degrees: both MIT. COO, group. The twins are the only part of the group whose physical type might appear out of place on the b-ball court. They don't look tall but are. Wide shoulders, gym rat body, semi body builder. Not! Don't have time. Mick is just like the rest of the group. A little quieter personality, always seems to have kind of a half smile. Soft friendly presentation, fast, hungry, hard case, inside. Don't get into the center, you won't like it. Mick is probably the most visually recognizable of the group in the company. If you need something fixed or you have a system that needs troubleshooting, call Mick. It will get fixed; in the 1% cases that Mick can't fix it he knows who can. From a Hydro-electrical generating turbine to the break room coffee machine. Mick's called to fix it. Everyone needs something fixed, so they all know Mick even from his twin.

Last one, me, Markus Alexander Giovanni, Italian as olives, and cantonlli. Pizza is American. Dusty golden color skin dark hair, big like I said. The only thing that doesn't fit the genome type is my bright blue eyes. Group says they're like an Arc light shining in your eyes, interrogation light in the cop shop. How I got where I'm at, CEO, the group, the company, the corner office leather couch, wet bar in the office, can booze go bad from age? Private bathroom, shower, I don't...fuckin' know.

Mom and Dad had a restaurant old world style, family like, big bowl center of the table everyone dished up from it. Old world cooking "like Mama Mia used to make." Old Man came in some, real respectful, knew Pop. I worked in the restaurant from 5^th-6^th grade, I know illegal as hell. Got to talking with the Old Man. Ma spanked the hell out of me, didn't like me bothering the customers. Until they realized that he liked too. He wanted to know about school, girls and ball, knew I was big into b-ball, he told me stories and we laughed a lot. Mary, his wife is a special lady, real lady, old world lady. When I went to the Big Ten College, he made the point to come and talk when I was home. Told me things to learn, books to try, courses to take, not to play b-ball all the time. What kind of girls to watch out for, split between books and b-ball, most on books.

Didn't yell at me like Mom and Dad did when the grades weren't where I wanted them to be, where Mom and Dad said they HAD to be. Just looked disappointed, just said try harder next time, learn from your errors and move on. His disappointment hurt worse than all Mom and Dad's anger and yelling. When I got done with school he hired me into his company. Yeah the same company, worked for couple of years, moved around a lot, didn't stay in one job more than a couple of weeks maybe a month.

Called me into his office one afternoon. Said he want me to try a different job, pulled a chair up to his desk and told me to watch. I watched, listened, when I went home, late, I tried to understand what he was doing and why. About a year later, he went and closed the door to his office, it was never closed, sat down close to me and started talking. Said he wanted to leave something for his grandkids, a lot of something. His wife was real sick, he needed to be there to support her, get her well. He wanted to show her the good life, travel the world. Hold the family together, have them surround her. Said his son Robert could be a hard charger, when he wanted, needed to be. But he was becoming used to the easy good life. Didn't have the trumpet or the heavy cavalry, needed for the hard charge. Old Man talked softy said he knew bad times were coming, knew the company had to change, get rid of the dead wood. Had to change the way it thought, worked. He didn't want to hurt the people who depended on him, but now he had to leave.

Then he dropped the BOMB, wanted ME to take the company, WTF...WTF (really oops.) I can't take the company, I've only worked here for a couple of years, and I'm way too young. Late 20's can't run an international company, disaster waiting to happen, big time, atomic bomb like. Oh fuck...Oh shit, this can't be happening, I can't do this, and I don't want to do this. But I love the Old Man, he means a lot to me, I've known him forever. This scares the fuck out of me. I... WILL...FAIL, let everyone down. I don't want to destroy the company. I fuckin' freaked out, jumped out of my chair, paced all over the office, and threw my arms in the air. Wild, wide flashing eyes ran my hand through my hair. Looked like a great big wild ape on a rampage.

That small Old Man came over, grasped a couple of my fingers and led me back to the chair, sat me down and started talking to me real quiet. Said he knew that's how I would react and he was proud of me for it, put the company first, myself after. Asked me how long we'd known each other. Said that's how long he's been watching me. Said he KNEW me, as a young boy. He'd seen how hard I had worked for Mom and Dad, paid attention to the old folks like him, friendly like. I told him that he wasn't old, he was my friend. How I did the dirty jobs because they needed done, helped all the others. Watched me as a teenager, talked to people in the school and coaches, and seen how I used my manners with the teachers and girls, respectful. Didn't smoke, drink, or party hard. He could see that I still had fun, was a leader for a lot of my mates. Watched me play b-ball in the Big Ten knew it was a hard place to succeed, watched how I treated my team and coaches and grades. I never knew that he'd come to a lot of my games, it was a lot of miles in between. Basically he watched all of my life that he could, without being in the middle.

Mentioned he watched a few others and told me who. Told me he always knew that he wanted me in the company and at a high level. Wanted me to be part of the future, the company's future. Just not this high this soon, wanted a couple of years to train me. Apologized several times about the speed that it needed to be done in. Then he told me that he wouldn't force me into such a hard decision, said to go home, take a day and do nothing except think about this. Then he said that in history, a lot of the very best leaders were the people who didn't want the job and thought that they were sure to fail. Then they put the others first, got up and did the job because it needed to get done. Because they thought they would fail, they tried harder than was possible, and succeeded.

Well, I went home and did like he asked. I thought about it a lot, but probably not as much as I should have. I loved the Old Man, respected him a lot, and loved the company. Respected a lot of the workers that I had been around. Then I got up and went to Mom and Dad's. Brought them over to the kitchen table, took about an hour, ran through the whole mess. Then I asked for their advice. Dad looked at me for a bit, nodded his head, said yes and went back to the stove. Looked over toward Mom, she was nodding her head slowly with tears in her eyes. She came over to me, wrapped her arms around me crying, and said they were happy tears. Well that didn't take very long! Dad looked back over at me asked.

"What did you spend all that money on schooling for?" Well...shit, that put the period on it.

Next day I went back to the Old Man, told him yes. He smiled, said that would make Mary very happy, He said he was sorry, knew it put me in a bad spot. We went back to his office closed the door and spend about two days there. The Old Man told me what he thought was going to happen, the bad times that were coming and why he thought that. Gave me the details as he saw them. When they would happen, and the order in which they would. Told of his vision of the future, where he saw the company in that, and what he thought we needed to do to get there. Told me the markets we need to look at, which to get into. Which companies to watch, people in those companies to watch for, good or bad? Talked about the things he felt I haven't had the time to learn yet. Broke down the company's money, where it was going, when it was coming back. Which project was over budget, what he thought I should do about that.