Sporting Chance

"Marcus showed me your resume. It looks like you've got an excellent background in sports and that's good. My last two assistant coaches were long on talk and short on doing and that's why they're no longer here."

"Right," Marcus cleared his throat. "Well, Patrick, I'll leave you to go into that with Jeremy. Bring him up to speed on the way the athletic department works here. Just try not to run him off on the first day."

He laughed but I could tell he wasn't joking at all. The phone rang and we stood up to leave.

"Patrick, why don't you take Jeremy to the lunchroom for the faculty meeting and on the way maybe you could show him his classroom. Tell the others I'll be along in a minute, I'm taking a call from the superintendent."

I watched Coach Baker gritting his teeth as we left Marcus's office and walked out into the school building. The school had four buildings, the main building that we were in and three smaller buildings surrounding behind it. The gym and another small building was across the street along with a football field, baseball diamond, track, and tennis courts. Hall Street was more like a dead end cul-de-sac road coming from a main street into the school complex.

"Here," Baker said abruptly.

We'd stopped outside a large classroom with large lab tables and scientific equipment, much better than I'd expected for a small town high school science classroom.

"This is great," I said. "I didn't expect the classroom to be..."

"You didn't expect us hicks to have lab table, right?" he said dryly.

Baker's attitude seemed to have soured.

"Not exactly, no, and certainly not in the critical sense you're implying. Most of my education was in military base schools all over the world and they ranged from great to what looked like left over barracks with army surplus furniture."

"I'm sure the students here will enjoy the stories of your travels and adventures. Not a one of them has ever been out of the state of Georgia and only about half of them have ever left the county."

Baker said this with a hint of mockery in his voice. He was an incredibly handsome man with a face that I could read like an open book. His sky blue eyes were incapable of disguising his emotions and it was clear that something was wrong.

"If you've got something else you need to do, Coach, I'm sure I can find my way to the lunchroom."

"No way," he laughed shallowly. "I'm on the way to the meeting too and I need to show my new coach his academic classroom."

His last phrase was definitely delivered with the tinge of bitter sarcasm. He smiled but his eyes didn't although when I looked into them he didn't betray animosity directed to me specifically. The internal twinge that was my response to him startled and confused me. His smile revealed teeth that were perfect, his wavy blond hair that was perfect, his tan, his muscled body in the school logo white tee shirt and shorts with football cleats, all new; every damn thing about the man seemed perfect and for the first time in ages I felt jealous inadequacy and I think he knew it.

"The classroom shows the input of a real science teacher," I laughed tensely.

Where the hell did that fucking laugh come from?

"Most science classrooms I had in school" I continued, "were makeshift rooms put together by someone who didn't know squat about science or what a science teacher needed."

"You're lucky, that's for sure. Al Sumner designed this room when they remodeled this hall a few years ago. He's got a master's in physics and he taught at a junior college near here at nights."

"He did a great job here."

"Yeah, he did."

That simple statement revealed everything to me. Baker liked Sumner and he resented me for taking his place.

"Do you know if Marcus plans for me to teach my geography class in this room?"

"I doubt it. Social studies is taught in building two and all the maps and stuff are in the geography classroom."

Baker was going to say something else but a bubbly little fat woman with red hair raced up and hugged him.

"It's so good to be back!" she squealed. "I missed it SO much over the summer."

"You need to get a life, Marcie," Baker laughed, a real laugh from deep down his chest.

"Who's this handsome guy here, Rick?"

"Marcie Croft meet Jeremy Easton. Jeremy meet Marcie. Marcie's the band director; she teaches music and band in that little building across the street. Jeremy here is my new tennis coach and my new assistant football coach."

"And you're going to teach science too, right? Or is it math? I can't remember, Rick."

"Physics and chemistry, Marcie; he's taking Al Sumner's place."

A brief dark look flashed in her eyes and then the smile returned.

"You're a lucky man, Jeremy. Al got all new textbooks last spring and a lot of new equipment, too. He was looking forward to..."

Rick cut her off. "Marcie, I think we'd better get to the lunchroom. I saw Wolfe leave his office and go down the other hall and he's going to be pissed if we're the last ones to get there."

"Oh, fuck him," she cursed.

Baker cleared his throat.

"Ummm, Marcie, Coach Easton here is Principal Wolfe's good buddy from the army. They were at Fort Benning together."

"Oh, really?" she smiled as we walked down the hall.

Really she didn't give a shit.

Three other teachers, a woman and two men raced up behind us, wanting to join us so they were not the only ones late to the faculty meeting. The conversation turned to stories about their summers and as we walked into the lunchroom we knew we were not late because Marcus hadn't arrived yet. I got my first real lesson in faculty politics. My hallway companions darted off to various tables leaving me standing alone in the doorway. No one asked me to sit with them so I walked to an empty table at the front and sat alone, my back to them all. So this was the way it was going to be.

"I see we're all here!" Marcus roared.

He'd walked through the door with a beautiful blonde who looked more like a centerfold than a teacher. They were laughing and as Marcus walked to the podium at the front she sat near a slim effeminate looking man with balding brown hair. I looked into his eyes briefly and he smiled, a closet queen for sure. I'd seen that kind of knowing smile before on people I'd learned not to trust, usually the hard way.

"Good morning, welcome back! I hope you had a great summer and that you're ready to hit the ground running!"

Marcus was a good speaker, personable and funny, a tall handsome man in his fifties with salt and pepper hair, a man who was a woman magnet and his past life reflected it; he was currently on his third wife. I watched the crowd as he spoke and while a few responded well to him, there were more who clearly disliked him. The meeting lasted about two hours as introductions were made for the new teachers and general business was discussed.

Marcus dismissed us all and I walked with Coach Baker as he led us out across the road toward the football field and gymnasium. He didn't speak a single word, nor did he look at me. Office politics on my first day; same shit, different location.

"Am I supposed to know some kind of secret hand shake to fit in here? I've only been here three hours and already I feel like I've shit in somebody else's sandbox. What's going on?"

"I'm sure you know better than I do and if you don't you'll soon figure it out," he laughed.

"Well I don't know and I'd appreciate it if you'd let me in on it. There's some kind of friction between you and Marcus and I don't want to be a part of your turf war."

He stopped and his eyes bored into me.

"I thought you'd already chosen your side. Well, if you think I'm going to work with his spy while you constantly undermine me then you're wrong. You know your duties. You coach tennis and I don't give a damn about tennis. When it comes to football you just stand on the sidelines and look pretty for the ladies. Stay out of my fucking football program and away from me as much as you can."

I was stunned. The smiling Rick Baker had been replaced by a total bastard that reminded me of Marcus at his worst. I fought the desire to knock him on his ass but I had to make it clear to Baker that I didn't intend to take any shit from him.

"We can play it this way if you want, Baker. I can stay away from you as much as I can but let's get this straight. I've been hired to coach football and tennis that's exactly what I intend to do, with or without your goddamn help. If you think I'm going to put up with your candy ass shit because of some jackoff fantasy you have about me and Marcus then you'd better hang on to your nuts. You can either bring me up to speed and we can work together or I'll do it my way and leave my footprints on your back."

His laugh was nasty. "You can try."

Baker turned on his heel and stalked off. I couldn't believe that I stood there admiring his body as he left me. 'Goddamn, I'm going fucking crazy,' I thought. 'Looking at his ass when I should be stomping it into the ground.' I was debating going back to hash it out with Marcus but as I turned I saw him driving away with the blonde, Lou, that was her name. I didn't like her. Suddenly a teenager walked out the gym door with the field striping equipment and motioned me to follow him. I walked with him as he striped the field.

"My name's Roger Harris and you're Jeremy Easton, the new coach, right? I heard you and Baker get into it and I'm going to give you a head's up here. If you don't want to hear it that's your prerogative."

Roger looked like that savvy nerd kid in so many movies who saves the day, without the bottle bottom glasses, and I decided to hear him out.

"Your ass is screwed because Baker and Wolfe hate each other and there's no fixing it. The school board and the superintendent's office support Wolfe because he's really turned this dead ass school around. The community supports Baker because he's got the best Single A athletic program in the state of Georgia and they don't like the heavy handed way Wolfe cut those teachers. And in that community that likes him is Baker's sister, Darlene, the mayor, and his daddy, a state senator. The old man's slick as owl shit and dangerous as a rattler if you piss him off."

We were walking the field as he chalked the lines.

"So far I haven't heard any advice from you and you haven't told me much that I didn't already know. And since when do they let high school students curse?"

"I'll shut up if you like," he offered.

I said nothing and he continued.

"'You need to distance yourself from both Wolfe AND Baker, just do your job, smile, get along with people and don't eat lunch with either of them. I'd sit wherever there's an empty seat at the faculty table, if I were you. Don't get known for hanging around with anybody. Most of them are back stabbing bastards anyway as far as I'm concerned."

"That's it, that's all the advice you've got?"

"No, but I'm going to let you figure the rest out for yourself for a while. I hear you're a big Ranger man. You ought to know how to recognize when somebody's got a goddamn gun pointed at you."

"Thanks for the heads up, Roger. I'll try not to disappoint you," I grinned.

"Oh, you won't disappoint me either way you go," Roger laughed. "This is going to be fun to watch."

"This is my first year teaching, you know. You kids needs to give me a break."

I was half joking and half pleading.

"The students are to eat you alive with that attitude, Coach. YOU set the tone and kick ass if someone steps out of line. And if you need to discipline a kid go through Wolfe not that moron assistant principal. Cravey's one of these praise and ignore assholes and we all think she's a joke."

I thanked him and turned to leave him to his work.

"Oh, one other thing, Coach. Don't bring any women home to fuck, don't buy booze anywhere but Atlanta, and don't flirt with any woman in this town you ain't ready to marry."

"That much I think I've already figured out; Tiny Town, U.S.A. with no room to squirm. I've got it."

"Right. Don't let anyone stay in your house overnight who isn't your wife, brother, sister, or parents. You think you're safe because you live out in the country but the Baptist preacher lives down the road from you and goes by your house probably ten times a day or more on his rounds."

"You people need to get with NBC and do a reality show, you know that?"

"Sorry, that's the way it is, Coach. We're just a bunch of hicks," he grinned.

"Thanks for the advice, Roger. I'll keep my back against the wall and know where the exits are."

"And keep your guns loaded for bear," he laughed. "Teaching's a rougher job than you think."

As I walked back into the gym I ran into Baker, literally.

"Sorry, Baker, I wasn't expecting you to be coming out the door."

Unbelievably he laughed.

"I hope your coaching instincts are sharper than your response time. Look, I came on a bit too hard, Easton, and I guess I need to apologize. MY instincts should be sharper than to let your friend Wolfe pull my strings every time I see him. It's just that he calls me Patrick in that condescending fucking voice of his and I want to tear his head off and shit down his throat every time he does it."

"For whatever it's worth, Baker, I'd bet you my left tit he knows that, too."

He laughed.

"I'm sure he does but then I know how to send him over the edge, too. Look, I'll try to give you a chance but the athletic program's taken a beating from your buddy and he's had me in his gun sights ever since he came here."

I couldn't believe the difference in his attitude in a few short minutes and I wasn't sure how to take it. He'd already declared war and put me down as his number one enemy; maybe number two, after Marcus.

"Coach, I knew Marcus ten years ago when I went through Ranger training at Fort Benning. I didn't get any preferential hiring treatment, I got interviewed by Wolfe and two board members downtown, and I thought it was a bit odd that you weren't there but Marcus has not said one single thing negative about you. In fact, he's said you're a good coach. Just give me a chance and I promise you I'm not taking sides with Marcus. Or you either for that matter."

Baker looked me in the eye as I made my speech and then he grinned.

"I'm going to take you at your word, Easton, but if you let me down I'm going to bury body under those uprights over there."

We both laughed.

The drama played out over the next few months and Baker did give me that chance he'd promised but even so, it was a tense situation. It was like walking on a razor's edge trying to keep those two from forcing me to take sides and diplomatically avoiding being used as a messenger boy or spy by both of them. I did as Roger had suggested by avoiding every situation where it might seem I was getting chummy with anyone.

Roger was right about Baker's coaching; we had the best Single A team in Georgia. Midseason we had a game that I could sense was one that Baker was sweating blood over. The team was looking forward to the game because it was a rivalry that went back over thirty years. Baker was nervous, the community almost demanded a win for this game, and I found myself doing most of the work. He walked the sidelines looking important but left the coaching to me.

"This is the most important game of our season, Easton," he said quietly. "Look at these people. The bald headed man on the end of the first row there, Donald Shively, he was quarterback of the team twenty five years ago. They won the game and I hear about the goddamn game every time I see him. The bastard always forgets we won it when I was quarterback here, too. We really need to win this thing."

The weather was cold but Baker was sweating and his eyes were begging me for help. He pointed out several other team members from years past and I could hear stress in his voice.

"Don't worry about it, Coach. We're going to win this one."

I gave him a knowing grin and his eyes bored into mine.

"Come on, we need to measure the down yardage," I smiled.

Baker's nerves were on edge from being placed in the vulnerable position of depending on me and knowing I knew how stressful this game was for him. He paced up and down the sidelines like a lion and I could almost feel the tension building in his muscles. For the first time there was a feeling of solidarity, I could see it unspoken in his eyes. The game was close and we won with a field goal.

As we left the school that night we were accompanied by excited students and community members who wanted to talk about the game, to them the game of the year. At last we got to our cars and Baker rolled his eyes and smiled at me. It was all I could think about on the way home.

By following Roger's advice about not getting too chummy with others I developed a reputation for being aloof which actually worked in my favor with the students and made teaching much easier for me. Week by week I began to gain the confidence and respect of my students and my fellow teachers. Baker was always professional and civil but we were not friends. He, too, was always cool but polite with me and no matter how hard I tried I couldn't figure him out.

I also couldn't figure out why it seemed to matter so much to me. I didn't understand why I felt I needed the approval of this blond surfer dude; at least that's how I always thought of him. I didn't know if he'd ever been near a coast but with his perfect tan, muscles, and blond highlights in his hair he reminded me of surfers in movies I'd seen. Female students seemed to adore him and some of the female staff members seemed to come alive in his presence. I didn't know why he mattered so much to me, maybe it was jealousy.

"So what are you doing for Thanksgiving, Easton?"

Baker and I were on the sidelines during the last football game before Thanksgiving. Things weren't going to well on the field and I was surprised by his personal question when we were so close to losing a game.

"You going home to be with your folks?" he smiled.

"Nah, not unless I want to fly to Hawaii and there's no way I'm doing that. It's snowing at home and my parents are treating themselves to two weeks in Maui. I'd spend a day in the air going and another coming back and I'm not doing that for just a couple of days in Hawaii. My sister's going with her husband to visit his family in Arizona so I guess I'll just rustle up something at the house and watch football.''

"I'm going down to Savannah to be with family or I'd join you. Trust me, I'd rather be here with you than putting up with them."

I don't know why that last comment startled me so much.

Our team failed in its final play for a touchdown and the fourth quarter ended with us losing the game. In the melee afterward there was no time for further conversation with Baker but his comment had surprised me. Somehow I knew I'd really enjoy kicking back on the couch with him on Thanksgiving Day and watching Dallas beat Washington. Of course he'd see it the other way. He was a big Redskins man and I'd have had fun teasing him as my Cowboys beat them. There was no way in hell I'd entertain the idea of them losing with him gloating in my house.

The weather turned really cold and we were all caught up in the usual hubbub of exams and changing to a new quarter. I didn't have any coaching duties during the Winter Quarter and had very little contact with Baker. I'd see him at lunch and faculty meetings but I maintained my neutral stance as usual. As time went by I found myself resenting Marcus for placing me in a position where I couldn't have contact with a man whose company I now enjoyed. I had slowly come to the realization that I had far more in common with Baker than anyone else at the school, more than anyone I'd met in the town.

I realized how closely students watch teachers a few days before the school was to close for the Christmas break.