Hot Shot (17 page)

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Authors: Fletcher Flora

BOOK: Hot Shot
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He was a good coach, though. Like I said before, he was a damn good coach, and I can’t deny it. We got fast and slick and better than we’d been the year before, and even old Carboy smoothed out and got a little better with the hook, and when we had our first warmup game about a week after the football team wound up in the cellar as usual, there must have been fifteen thousand maniacs piled into the field house to see the team that everyone thought would be national champs sure this year, and certain people damn well knew we’d
better
be, including us and old Umplett, and after the game everyone thought so more than ever, especially the team we played, because we murdered them. After that we played another team that wasn’t any match for us, and then an outfit from the East breezed in on tour, and they were experienced and supposed to be damn good, and it turned out that this was the first game that Francis Z. Ketch wanted me and Micky to fix the point spread in. It was Candy who called me to pass the word, and I’ll tell you how it was.

I was at the frat house, and this guy called up from downstairs and said, “Telephone, Scaggs,” and I went down and answered, and it was Candy, and she said, “Hello, Junior. Well, it’s your turn on the schedule,” and I said, “I’m damn glad to hear it, but it’s the first time you ever called me to tell me so, and I’d like to know why,” and she laughed and said, “Not my schedule, Junior. Franzie Ketch’s schedule. You better come on downtown tonight and get the details,” and I said, “Well, since I’ve got to come downtown anyhow, you might as well work your schedule around to fit Franzie’s,” and she said, “Lord God, you can figure more angles than any engineer. Remember to come’ right to my place and not to the Gay Gander,” and I said I would and did.

I got there before she did and had to wait in the hall, and I made up my mind right then if I was going to have to meet her that way, not knowing just when she’d get there, I’d have to have a key to the joint so I could go on in and make myself comfortable. She came along after a while and said, “Hi, Junior,” and we went in and had a drink, and she said, “I guess I’ll have to quit giving you drinks now that you’re playing basketball again,” and I said, “The hell you will! You just let me worry about the God-damn basketball,” and she said, “Well, you can start worrying about the game Saturday night, because Franzie Ketch says the wise money is going for you to win by eight points on your home court, but he figures it will be closer,” and I said, “How closer?” and she said, “The way he sees it, not over seven.”

Well, that’s how it was, the way we-settled it, and I started to get down to other business, and she said, “How the hell do you expect to keep on being a star athlete with the kind of habits you’ve got?” and I said she could damn well quit bothering herself about it, and after a while she did, and when I was finally ready to get on back out to Pipskill, I remembered about having to wait in the hall and said, “By the way, you better get a key made for me,” and she asked me what the hell I meant, a key, and I said, “A key to open the God-damn door with. You think I want to stand out in the lousy hall waiting every time you’re late?” and she said, “Well, of all the lousy damn brass I ever heard of, this takes the prize. I’ll just tell you, Junior, that you can wait in the hall or in hell or any place you damn well please, but if you think you’re getting a key to my apartment you can put it out of your little mind right now,” and I could see that she was really in an uproar about it for some God-damn reason or other, so I let it drop for the time being, but I didn’t put it out of my mind, like she said, but intended to come back to it later because I couldn’t see any sense whatever in waiting around for her in the damn hall.

I went back to the frat house and told Micky how it had been set, and he said, “It oughtn’t to be very hard to make it look good at seven points because this team’s supposed to be pretty sharp,” and I said, “Well, we damn well
better
make it look good because I’ve got a feeling old Umplett will smell something damn fast if we don’t,” and Micky said, “That’s for sure, and I don’t mind admitting that the son of a bitch gives me the creeps,” and I said that went for me, too, doubled in spades.

The truth is, we damn near flubbed it. It was the other team’s fault, really, the bastards, because they didn’t come through the way they were supposed to, and the way it was, they played sharp and fast the first half and kept within four points all the way, which was the widest spread we built, but then, the second half, damned if they didn’t grow all feet and thumbs and get as cold as a damn ice cube, and almost before we knew it we had a lead of twelve points. I got worried as hell, and that’s the truth, and during a time out I whispered to Micky to start missing some, for God’s sake, and he whispered back, “Well, damn it, it’s not so much our
missing
some as figuring a way to get those spooks to start
hitting
some,” and I had to admit to myself that he had a damn good point.

To make it worse, that God-damn Carboy had a good night and even hooked in a few, and Micky and I had to look so damn bad to make up for it that I got to worrying about old Umplett jerking us out of there, and then we wouldn’t have had any chance at all to fix the spread. In the fourth quarter, though, the other team got its eye back and began to move the ball better, and with the help of Micky and me they got the spread narrowed to six points with less than a minute to play, and it looked like everything would come out all right after all, and it was right then that the thing happened that looked pretty God-damn phony, and I’ll have to admit it.

The other team had the ball and took it downcourt and banged away at the basket and missed, and old Carboy went up and took it off the boards and passed it out, and we took it down in no hurry because we had the game on ice, and ordinarily we’d have just hung onto the ball until the gun. They were playing a man-for-man defense, though, and the guy on me got sloppy and dropped away, and old Carboy in the slot got the ball and popped it out to me, and there I was in the open with the God-damn ball and plenty of time to dribble in and lay one up that would have been as easy as hitting a bull with a spade. To tell the truth, I didn’t know what the hell to do, and so I wound up not doing a damn thing, and the spook who was supposed to be guarding me woke up and got in between me and the basket, and it looked pretty phony, like I said, and as a matter of fact it stank.

The gun went off then, and we went in the locker room, and when I came out of the shower and started dressing, old Umplett came out of his office and looked at me with his sour, sick eyes and said, “Why the hell didn’t you go in for that last shot?” and I’d been thinking he might ask me about it and had a reason ready for him, so I said, “Well, we were ahead and only had a few seconds to go, and I thought there wasn’t any use in it.”

He kept on looking at me, and his lips sort of curled back off his crummy teeth in a little smile that didn’t have any Goddamn humor in it at all, and pretty soon he said in this very soft voice, “Well, isn’t that just too God-damn touching for words! If there’s anything makes me want to break right out in tears, it’s a guy like you who has such a tender heart that he just can’t stand beating anyone any worse than’s absolutely necessary. I’ve been at this business a long time, and sometimes I get to feeling pretty low and thinking maybe it’s been a wasted life and I’ve never done anyone in the world any good to speak of, and then a fine, tender-hearted lad like you comes along and makes me feel ashamed of feeling and thinking that way. However, we got to remember to be realistic about things, and one of the things we got to remember is that there’s a time to hold the ball and run out the clock, and there’s a time when it’s better to take a shot, especially when it’s a dead cinch to make and not even enough time left for the other team to get the ball back downcourt. I don’t have to tell you this, though, because you’re a natural sharpie and know damn well when to shoot and when not to, and you knew you should’ve taken that shot tonight. I don’t know why you didn’t, except for the natural tenderness of your heart, and I don’t want to know, but I can God-damn well tell you that if you ever pull another phony trick like that while you’re playing on this team I’ll make you sorry you were ever born, and don’t you forget it.”

Well, I could see the son of a bitch didn’t trust me and was going to be suspicious of every lousy little thing I did, and I knew damn well I’d have to smooth it up and do better if I ever intended to get away with it and had just about decided to tell Francis Z. Ketch to blow it when I got a call from Candy to come downtown to her apartment and pick up something she had for me. I went down there in the Crosley to pick it up, and it was the payoff for fixing the spread, and as a matter of fact it was five hundred for me and three for Micky, and I got the extra two for setting it up and being the contact man, which was just adding sauce to the gravy, the way I looked at it, since the one I had to contact was Candy and she usually had something extra for me herself.

She gave me the money and said, “Well, how does it feel to be in the chips?” and I thought I might as well push it a little while I was at it and said, “It feels pretty damn good, all right, but Francis Ketch doesn’t need to think I’m going to keep on fixing points for any lousy five C’s per, and you can tell him from me it’ll have to go up a couple of C’s each time,” and she looked at me with her eyes wide for a few seconds and then said, “By God, you might be worth hanging onto, at that, if you can manage to keep living,” and I said, “Don’t worry about that, and while we’re on the subject of living, how about living it up a little right now?” and she laughed and shook her head and said, “Probably someday I’ll wonder why I was ever so damn crazy, but just the same I think you’re pretty cute, Junior, and I’m tempted to cooperate.” Which she did.

I went back out to Pipskill pretty late, and the next day I slipped Micky the three hundred, and it bucked him up some and made him feel like going on with the deal with Francis Z. Ketch, and the truth is, he’d been pretty shaky about it and inclined to give it up. The first part of December, about the tenth, we took off on a tour, and this time we swung west instead of east. There wasn’t any worry about fixing the spreads, of course, because Francis Z. Ketch couldn’t keep in contact, and we let ourselves go and won all five of the games we played by big scores, except one that was close in California, and by the time we got back, Pipskill was already being voted number one team in the country, and I was way out in front personally in individual scoring. I might as well tell you right off that the team and I both stayed right there all season, in spite of my having to miss a few on purpose in some games, and as a matter of fact I got a lot of attention in the sports pages and had my picture in about six national magazines, two times in color, and was called the Pipskill Flash and the Pipskill Ace and other things like that.

We got back to Pipskill and laid off until after Christmas, and then we won two home games with the spreads fixed, and they worked out a lot smoother than the first one, and I didn’t get the two C’s more each game, but I did get one C more, which was as much as I’d expected, anyhow. The only thing that bothered me was that God-damn Umplett, and I kept thinking he was looking at me and watching me and crap like that, but I decided it was just because I had him on my lousy mind all the time, and finally I put him out of it, and damned if I didn’t feel better right away.

Right after that, just when I was feeling free and easy and loose as ashes about it all, the whole thing started going to hell and it seems like that’s the way things go sometimes, just all to hell and nothing you can do about it, but anyhow, I guess I’d better get into it and tell how it happened. It was all that God-damn Micky’s fault, and I don’t mind saying he had me fooled all the way, and I never even suspected that he’d play me the dirty trick he did. We started conference play and won a couple of games away from home, and I noticed he didn’t play up to par and made a hell of a lot of mistakes he didn’t usually make, but I didn’t think much about it because everyone gets off his game now and then, and the truth is, it was the way he started acting in the room at the frat house that finally made me wonder what the hell was itching him. He acted like a spook, I mean, like he had a God-damn bellyache or something, and finally one night I tried to get a little chatter going with him about this and that, and he wouldn’t say much but acted like he wished to hell I’d get away and leave him alone, so I said right out, “What the hell’s the matter with you, anyhow? As far as I can see, you’re about as gay as a pregnant spinster.”

He said, “I been meaning to talk with you about it, Skimmer, and the truth is, I’m pretty damn miserable,” and I said, “What the hell you got to be miserable about?” and he sighed like he had a God-damn pain and said, “You remember the girl I told you about? The one I borrowed the fin to make hay with?”

I said I did, and he said, “Well, I didn’t make any hay, and as a matter of fact I ought to have my tail kicked for even thinking about it because this girl doesn’t go for stuff like that and has extremely high standards,” and I hooted and said, “Well, pass the God-damn collection plate!” and he got red in the face and a stubborn look in his eyes and said, “No bull, Skimmer, I’ve really got it bad over this girl, and she’s got it bad over me, and the truth is, we’ve been talking about getting married and everything,” and I said, “Well, if you’ve got to get married to get it, you better go ahead and get married, but I don’t see why the hell it should give you gas on the stomach just to think about it,” and he said, “It’s not that, Skimmer. The thing that’s wrong, it’s this deal we got to fix the spreads in the basketball games. If Helen ever found out about it, she wouldn’t have a damn thing more to do with me because she’s got these God-damn high standards, and besides, if you want to know it, I’m beginning to feel kind of dirty about it myself, and I wish I’d never got started at it as a matter of fact.”

I could see right away that it was pretty damn serious, and I don’t mind admitting that it scared the hell out of me, and I said, “I don’t know anything about how damn dirty you’re feeling, but I can tell you one thing, and that is that this Helen, whoever she is, damn well better
not
find out anything about it,” and he said, “Oh, I wouldn’t tell her, of course,” and I said, “Besides, you been getting paid pretty good for helping fix the spread, and I’ll bet Helen’s been getting her share of it one way or another, and what’s more, I’ll bet she didn’t bother to ask whether it was dirty or not,” and this made him sore, and he stood up and stuck out his stinking chin and said, “You lay off Helen or I’ll knock your God-damn teeth out,” and I laughed and said, “Lay off, hell! It looks to me like a guy can’t even lay
on!”

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