Sporting Chance

"It must be real nice not to have to deal with Coach Baker anymore, right, Coach Easton?"

The comment came Eileen Farmer, a cheerleader and the school social butterfly. Every eye in the classroom was looking at me and I know I must have shown how stunned I was by her comment. I quickly gathered my senses but not enough to avoid a Freudian slip.

"I don't know what you mean, Eileen," I laughed. "He's the best friend I've got on this campus."

You could have heard a pin drop and I continued demonstrating the chemistry experiment.

'Where the hell did that come from?' I thought. 'It ought to be fun digging myself out of this one.'

I didn't know why I'd made such a bold statement and I was sure it would get around the school like wildfire to students and teachers alike. I didn't really care what everyone else thought but I felt a tightness in my gut thinking about Wolfe and Baker, wondering what their responses would be. I knew Baker's response really mattered to me and I didn't give a goddamn what Marcus thought.

The staff Christmas party was when he finally approached me. Everyone was scattered around the teacher's lounge in the various cliques and I was sitting in a corner, bored and just wanting it to be over. Baker sat down on the couch beside me.

"You don't mind if I sit with you, do you?" he grinned. "I think your buddy Wolfe will forgive you for fraternizing with his enemy at a Christmas party."

"Why do you do that?" I asked softly. "Why do you always call him my buddy?"

"Because it pisses you off and I like the look on your face," he laughed.

The other teachers were laughing and talking, a boisterous crowd who seemingly was ignoring us but still we spoke quietly.

"Like the look on your face now, for instance," he continued. "I know you've tried to maintain your neutrality with Wolfe and me but I heard you said I'm the best friend you've got in this place. You must be pretty damn lonely if that's the case since you haven't said more than twenty or thirty words to me since football season ended."

He looked like a mischievous little boy.

"Well, we have so little contact with each other and like you said, I don't want to give the appearance of taking sides between you two."

"Why do you care? I think the whole school knows by now that you're not a part of the faculty politics. So if I'm you're best friend I think you could afford to have a conversation with me occasionally."

"Really? And don't you think that would break down everything I've worked to achieve? What I don't understand is why you and Marcus can't seem to bury the hatchet and drop this bullshit. I'm tired of being caught in the middle of your goddamn childish games. The two of you act like you're fucking nine years old."

"Well said, Easton, well said. We all agree with you," said Margaret Greville.

I blushed as I realized the entire room was silent, all listening to us. Baker realized it at the same time and I watched as his face turned beet red. He stood up to leave.

"Come now, Rick. Don't run away like a nine year old. I guess Wolfe realized what a wet blanket he was throwing on the party and he left a few minutes ago to discuss something with Lou Mansfield."

A few people snorted with laughter and Greville continued.

"Jeremy's right, I for one am tired of the friction here and most of its caused by you and Wolfe. Why can't you just admit it that he wasn't the one who made the decision to cut the budget? He was forced to act on their decision, maybe with a little more gusto than was required but if he hadn't done it they would have gotten someone else to do it."

I could feel the tension in the air. Margaret Greville was the Language Department chairperson, the oldest and most senior member of the faculty, and a veritable dragon when crossed. Baker sat down, his anger still apparent but chastised enough not to run.

"Hear, hear," several faculty members chimed in.

"Jeremy, I think what's gone on here has probably gone too far to heal completely but I also think enough time has passed that most of us just want to put it behind us. We've all come to like you a lot," she continued, "and no one here's going to hold against you if you decided to be friendly to Rick. Or to Marcus either for that matter. Everyone can see you're your own man."

"That's easy for you to say, Mrs. Greville, but I think the students here might look at it differently and I just don't need the headache."

"Call me Margaret, for god's sake. You make me feel like an old woman and..."

Several people laughed. She gave them the finger which surprised me and I joined in the laughter.

"As I was trying to say before they so RUDELY interrupted me, you may have reached a point at which you're allowing the tail to wag the dog. While it's important to have a good teacher student relationship you can't do the job if you let them control every situation. Friendship is at stake here or so I've heard. The word is out that Rick is your best friend here although I must confess my feelings are hurt. I thought I was your best friend."

She was joking and we all laughed.

"Yes, Easton," Baker grinned. "I was a bit surprised when the good Eileen informed me of your declaration. Of course, I responded that you're my best friend too, what else was I to say? I don't think she believed me though since we don't walk down the halls holding hands."

"Okay, you guys have had your laugh," I smiled. "We worked together well during football season and we share a common view of the athletic program and education. Football is a common denominator for most guys although I must confess I don't know what Baker sees in the Redskins."

The party mood changed and we all had fun together. I saw a different side to my co-workers but I couldn't help but think about Marcus, too. How was it that he'd gotten it so wrong with these people? Being a hard ass Master Sergeant doesn't work too well with people who already are all officers and good ones at that.

"You mind walking out to my truck with me, Easton?" Baker asked.

"Sure, I think the party's about to come to a halt anyway."

He just smiled and I followed him outside. It was freezing cold and looked like the sky was about to fall.

He took a gift wrapped box from his truck.

"Merry Christmas, Easton. It's not much but it's the thought that counts."

I was astonished.

"Thanks, Baker, but I didn't get you anything. I'm sorry but I didn't know we were exchanging gifts."

He grinned. "I know, I just want to make you feel guilty. Go ahead, open it."

I tore the wrapping off the small box. Inside was a strange trowel with a cherry wood handle that had a long thin scoop with two sharp points, not cheap I was sure. I didn't recognize it although I'd used gardening tools all my life.

I guess I must have looked puzzled because he laughed.

"It's what you call a dandelion digger. It's for digging up weeds with as little damage as possible to the surrounding lawn. I pass by your house on the way to mine and I've seen you outside pulling weeds. Of course that was before the cold set in and you won't need this until spring. I've got one myself and I can promise you, this'll make it easier for you."

His voice was friendly and his eyes were filled with amusement at my flustered response.

"Thank you, Baker, it's really nice of you and I really appreciate it. I'm sorry I wasn't thinking and didn't get you something, too," I smiled. "After all, if you're my best friend you'd think I'd at least gotten you a box of chocolate covered cherries."

"I'm sorry you didn't," he chuckled. "I love cherries. You'll have to give me one...some later."

"You're determined to make me feel guilty here, aren't you?"

"Yep, I really am," he smirked.

"Well, thanks again for the dandelion digger, Baker. Mrs. Moon worked a lot in her yard but weeds were beginning to sprout when I took over the place. I just didn't have the heart to let the lady's hard work go to seed and Harold works twenty four seven at the restaurant. I don't know if you've ever really seen the place but Mrs. Moon kept the house and grounds in perfect condition."

"Yeah, Victoria was one real class act. After she died I tried to help Harold out with the place but I don't have much free time either. I was glad to see you move in because keeping Victoria's place up and my own was about to do me in."

"Oh, did you know her well?"

"Since I was a little boy if you can envision me that way," he laughed. "She was Mom's best friend and I spent almost as much time at Victoria's as I did at home. I'm about half a mile down the road from you, did you know that? When my parents died I took over the house and farm again and I've been there since, four years now."

"So did your family move in with you?"

He laughed. "I guess that's your half assed way of asking me if I'm married and have kids. I'm divorced. My wife remarried and lives in Atlanta with my two daughters."

"Man, I'm sorry, Baker, I do remember someone mentioning you're divorced but I forgot it. Do you see the kids often?"

"Not really. Belle's nineteen and goes to Emory and Ella's seventeen and will graduate from high school this year. They're at that age where so much is going on with their lives they hardly have time to turn around. I get down to Atlanta about once a month and take them out to dinner and they come up here occasionally. But after the divorce things changed between us."

"That's too bad. Families are just never the same after divorce."

"Shit happens. So are you going home for Christmas? You've got a bit more time than you had at Thanksgiving."

"No, my family's not that close and I'd just like a peaceful break. I talked to my mother last week and my father's still furious with me for not continuing the family tradition of a military career. I don't get along too well with my sister and I fucking hate her husband. He's navy, he's a total ass hat, and I can't stand to be in the same state with him."

"Wow," Baker laughed. "Now that we girls are such good friends I guess it's okay for you to share that with me."

"How would you like me to shove this dandelion thing-a-ma-bob up your ass, Baker?" I growled lightheartedly. "For a second I thought you were my priest and I was making my annual confession."

"And you'd like me to carry this confession to my grave, right?"

"Yep, that's right, honor the seal of the confessional."

"That's me, just good old Father Rick," he grinned. "So why's it such top secret? I can't stand half my family either, of course they're cousins, aunts, and uncles; I have no siblings. Oh, and the ex-wife. Now her I fucking hate."

"For one thing, it's nobody's business; second, some of these kids here would put it on the goddamn internet and it'd probably go viral in an hour if Eileen's got anything to do with it; and third, I would rather Marcus not know I said it. I think he's a little pissed with me right now and I wouldn't put it past him to call Dad and tell him I said it. He was an adjutant in Dad's office at one time and that kind of bond never dies."

Rick raised his eyebrows in mock shock and laughed.

"Now that's deep. You'll have to tell me more about that later. Here I've been worried that you're Marcus's boy and now I find out you think Marcus is your daddy's boy. You military people weave some tangled ass webs, my son."

"It's just that..."

Baker interrupted me, his face looked stern and pious.

"Don't worry my son, other than us, only God will know."

"Thanks, Father."

"Don't mention it. I may see you during the holidays anyway if you're up to it. The girls are going with the ex and her rich husband to Barbados and I doubt I'll last the entire two weeks in Savannah. I may only last through Christmas dinner if my Aunt Maude starts in on me with what I could do or what I should do or what she would do if she were in my shoes."

"Man, we've all got relatives like that, haven't we?"

A hard sleet began to fall, bouncing off the cars and blanketing the parking lot.

"Merry fucking Christmas," Baker grimaced. "Let's go inside and tell them it's sleeting. If we all don't get out of here fast we'll be stuck waiting for them to clear the ice of the road for us."

As it happened, I never saw Baker over the holidays and I spent them lazing around the house. The weather kept us all inside and I didn't know if Baker had made it to Savannah or not. I pottered around doing a few general housekeeping chores and reading novels that I found in the bottom of the hall closet. Victoria had had an eclectic taste in reading material and I enjoyed myself. I called my family on Christmas Day and we were all civil and nice to each other in the Christmas spirit.

I need not have worried about everyone's perception of my self-declared friendship Baker. Nothing really changed; we were too busy to do much more than wave to each other in passing and the same went for my relationship with Marcus. I did notice that Marcus seemed much more preoccupied than before and kept to his office, leaving off his periodic wandering through the halls seeing and being seen style of management.

Soon spring quarter arrived and I was busy with coaching tennis. I found it to be a hassle to haul all of the equipment from the gym to the tennis courts and back with each practice, particularly when I found myself doing it alone, as I often did. After three thirty the gym was locked except during basketball season in the winter. For security purposes there were no windows in the athletic office in the gym. The athletic equipment room was a huge room that could only be accessed through a locked door within the office and of course the door was positioned in the room to make entry and exit with equipment a real pain in the ass.

A door in the back of the office, always locked, led to the coaching lounge/dressing room area. Coaches who also taught regular classes - like me - had to change from dress clothes to coaches' uniforms, often more than once during the course of a day for those who taught P.E. classes. Baker didn't need to change often because he coached all day long but Bob Harris, Mike Stephens, and I changed out of necessity. We had academic classes and the classroom teacher's dress code made no exception for coaches.

Harris, Stephens, and I saw each other naked periodically and I'd never given it a second thought. I'd never seen Baker naked although occasionally he'd come in as I was changing and sometimes I'd caught him checking me out as he walked past. After a while it began to bother me that he'd seen me naked several times and I found myself almost fantasizing what his perfect body looked like without clothes.

A few days into the new quarter I went into the gym after five. Tennis had gone well that afternoon and the students had played a bit longer than usual. It had begun to rain and aggravated, I walked across the field to the gym as quickly as I could loaded with equipment on rolling rack. I was surprised to see the lights off and it appeared that no one was in the building. Coach Baker's car was still in the teacher's parking lot but I knew that he occasionally walked down the street to a convenience store with a fantastic deli café.

As I entered the lounge I noticed the light was on in the back bathroom. Thinking someone had accidentally left it on I walked back to turn it off. As I turned to enter the door I saw Baker in the shower and I wasn't sure why but I stayed in the shadows and stared at him. I knew I'd never live it down if he caught me but I wanted to see his naked body to satisfy my voyeuristic curiosity.

I'd never given a damn about other men's bodies but I couldn't tear my eyes away from Baker's nude physique. He was in incredible shape with a body any man would envy, myself included. He most certainly didn't look like a man in his forties; over the years I'd showered with hundreds of guys in the army and few could compare to him. His body showed the years of exercise and weight lifting. The broad upper torso narrowed to a small tight waist, a firm bubble butt, and long slender legs.

I guess I figured I'd just take a moment to check him out but then I saw he was masturbating. It was a good thing the shower was running or he'd have heard me gasp in shock at the risk he was taking. It felt wrong but I was frozen in place. Baker had always seemed to hold the winning cards against mine and...hell, I wasn't sure what it was, maybe a chance to get even, to give me the upper hand? His masturbating showed him raw and human, a sexual being, and a side to him I'd been unable to imagine before. I'd long since decided he was an alien occupying a human body.

His angle changed, giving me a side view of his body. His eyes were closed with his face upturned into the shower nozzle and I could see the telltale signs his ejaculation was near. He stunned me further by sticking a finger in his asshole before his muscles tensed and I could hear his breathing change. He turned at an angle that gave me a full frontal view, a view of an erect throbbing penis. It was maybe seven inches long with a big mushroom head and looked like a beer can encased in skin. His eyes were closed as the water from the shower pounded his face, then suddenly his cock began to spurt thick white ropes of cum onto the shower wall. Baker's body jerked in spasms as he ejaculated and I could hear his soft moans.

I stepped back into the lounge as his orgasm ended. As I left the lounge I realized I had a full blown erection and I could feel the dampness of pre-cum on my boxer briefs. It embarrassed me and I reassured myself that I was just curious, not gay. It had been several days since my own last jack off session and I was in bad need of relief. As I left the office I decided to tease Baker a bit so I did something I knew he'd notice instantly. I left my playbook on my desktop, something I never had done before and I laughed to myself wondering what his reaction would be, how soon, if ever, he mentioned it to me.

What I didn't laugh about my own physical reaction. I'd had an erection since I'd witnessed Baker masturbating and on the drive home all I could think about was being naked in my bed and edging myself into a frenzy. Never in my life had I reacted in a sexual way to another guy and I wasn't sure what it was about Rick Baker that made me crazy, made me want to jack off but I was too horny to analyze it before I blew my load.

In my bedroom I stripped off my clothes and put a video in my player of two women in a 69 eating pussy while naked man jacked off on them. I teased my cock planning to blow my load at the same time as the man in the video. There'd be no edging today; watching Rick Baker had me burning to ejaculate. As I watched the video I played with my nuts, twisted my nipples, and teased my cock. I told myself my sexual excitement was enhanced by the video but I knew inside it was because of Baker. I tried to put him out of my mind but all I could see was him jacking off in the shower, imagining him doing it knowing I was watching, imagining myself jacking off while HE watched. I'd never done it before but I put a finger in my asshole as he had done and I couldn't believe the feeling. I tried to push it from my mind but I kept thinking that of thick cock of his, wondering how it would feel inside me. The sensation was so overpowering to me that I barely was able to last until the man in the video had his orgasm. I was panting, striving for self-control, and writhing on the bed before at last I could let it go. My cock spewed forth the best ejaculation I'd had in months, spattering my torso with like thick pearly strings of semen. I made no attempt to clean it off me, just turned the video off and fell asleep.

The next day I avoided Baker and wouldn't look him in the eyes although I could sense he was feeling me out. He said very little to me but his voice was not that of his usual cool chipper self. He sounded like he was going for friendly but wasn't sure how far to take it. I smiled and avoided him except in the company of others. As the days passed things returned to normal and I think he assumed that while I had definitely unlocked the door and entered the athletic office that I had not gone into the back.