21
As Boots drove away, a television crew pulled into the parking lot. Sure enough, Sid had pulled off a coupe by having the station buy-into the idea that hurling a man out the front door would be a good thing-newsworthy.
“Where’s Boots!” a bald man yelled out running into the clubhouse.
Betty was not surprised that this charade would not end without another actor in the mix and lit another cigarette.
“He left,” she said succinctly.
“Left? What do you mean he left?”
Betty Bowles had seen some slow-witted people, but considering this man was part of a television station was indeed noteworthy, and maybe even concerning.
“I didn’t ask. Do you know where he went Bob?”
Bob Allsion shook his head in the negative.
“Did Sid stop by?”
Betty figured this inquisitive man probably hosted the game show at the channel-one thousand questions for the win!
“Sorry,” she offered.
“Goddamnit!”
Then they were gone too.
“Think Sid is in over his head?” Betty asked Bob Allison.
“Oh yeah.”
It was noon and already the throng of people were pouring into Leamington’s auditorium. The muffled voices rose when Sid walked in, and he waved to his readers. Ben and Jim followed, and they were subdued, it was a funeral after all. Mags, Carolyn and Rami followed, and promptly sat in the front row, seated by Betty Bowles and Bob Allison.
“Betty, so good to see you again. We met with Rami yesterday.”
“Oh yes, I remember, well I do remember Rami. Rami is a fixture, like a dim lightbulb.”
Mags was surprised that Rami had a following which was not impartial.
“Why do you say that?” she quizzed.
Betty floated away, and Bob Allison came over to field any questions she may have neglected on purpose.
“Can I help you?” Allison said.
“Betty mentioned that Rami…”
“Sorry, its anonymous,” and he walked away.
Mags bristled at Allison’s brusque behavior and shot Carolyn for a look, and since it didn’t have anything to do with her, she rolled her eyes as a statement of indifference. Since Rami was ‘mixing’ with strangers, he couldn’t have heard anyhow.
Carolyn was unusually quiet and kept to herself. It may have been the lack of visibility that had her pouting. She was the type of woman who would announce her family lineage, and since this was really a Sid affair, that didn’t matter. The gathered assembly was awaiting the ‘special guest’, or secret announcement, or whatever other term Sid had written for the television and radio talent.
One thing that was certain, it was more important than the death of a rival player from Ann Arbor, which was the amount of animus that goes into hating one’s rival in college football. Since Sid played both sides of the aisle, he was one of the few sports writers with national stature that had friends on every team that he happened to focus on. The Yankees, Dodgers, Indians, Braves and White Sox were perennial winners, so he did what smart reporters do, and schmoozed. His specialty was massaging the egos of mostly dull athletes and did they oblige. He knew they were out drinking and carousing nightly to give a damn about the political positions Eisenhower was taking.
“Hey Bobby,” Jim called out as Douglas walked by a few rows back with a shapely blonde.
He was sure he saw him but chose to ignore him. That hurt Jim, because he didn’t have that many people to let down, since he spent most of his days trying to keep Mags in good spirits. His dad bent over and whispered(loudly) in his ear.
“That damned Rami never played for Yale. I know a lawyer who went to law school there and never heard of him. Never heard of his stellar legal eagle…”
Ben stopped noticing Rami coming their way. Never one to censure himself, even at memorials, he painfully poked Jim in the ribs to witness his upcoming cross examination.
“Hey Khan! My friend Paul Evans never heard of you. Never played football, what kind of shit are you trying to pass off on us? Do you think we are a bunch of rubes?” he bristled as Jim reddened.
Even Sid had to take notice of such a broad side of character and looked up at Rami.
“It’s a long story, Ben. Let’s talk about later once Bill’s service is over.”
Ben laughed.
“I don’t know what about, you proved you are a fraud.”
Rami’s face tightened as he forced a smile.
“Ben. I must do the eulogy, remember?”
Rami turned and went up to the lectern and looked at the vast (at least two thousand) people sitting patiently for the special announcement.
“Thank you for coming. Bill Bastian was a…”
“Hey! There is a couple of buses sitting at 2218 just sitting, they don’t know where the service is!” came a shout from the back of the auditorium.
“Shit!” Rami said into the live mic.
Ben stood up and put his hand on Rami’s shoulder and pushed him in the direction of his empty chair. There was silent recognition that something was amiss and everyone could hear the rustling Ben was making on the mic. He looked at the people still streaming in, while Sid looked on with concern. It was his event, and this was turning into a disaster. Sid knew that Ben was unable to continue, considering with his grief for his best friend, so he moved aside as Sid came up and took over. He made sure he was respectful of Ben, and waited for him to sit down and settle in.
“I must say that the tandem of Ben and Bill on that damn team drove a lot of us crazy in this town. Never one to begrudge greatness, give a round of applause to Ben Nelson and our dear, now dead friend, Bill Bastion.
Mags looked around to see if people were tracking his impromptu union rally. The crowd clapped and cheered loudly, so enthusiastically that there had to have been Michigan fans in the hotel.
“We have Ben, his son Jim, his wife Margaret, better known as Mags, a real spitfire…”
Mags cringed at that term, like she was a dragon lady in wait.
“And of course a few rows back, the All-American receiver for Jim Nelson’s Rose Bowl winning team, Bobby D. Bobby, take a bow!”
Bobby, never one to turn down an opportunity to be gracious in front of a lady, took several and spun around so many times Mags thought he would fall over with vertigo. His date loved it and showed him by a long kiss. Even Jim thought it was excessive. Then it turned strange, as Sid waved Bobby up for an encore. Bobby ran up like he was running a deep post pattern into the endzone and grabbed the lectern with force, almost knocking it over in his excitement. He looked around and was unprepared for any remarks.
“Um. Thank you everyone. So, I came to the Twin Cities to support my best friend and teammate Jim Nelson on this sad day. Um, thanks Sid for letting me come up and say a few words, which slip me now!”
There was nervous laughter, and his lady-friend looked around with confusion. Jim sensed he had to do something, and got up and stood next to Bobby, putting his arm around his shoulder. Jim grabbed the microphone, and started-
“Yes, thank you Bobby. We had some moments, and you were kind enough to make it here, for Mags and myself and dad. Selfless as always…”
Bobby’s beautiful young woman friend was now beaming again as Jim continued to talk while canonizing Bobby.
“So, I want to do something I never intended to do but will do here and now. I want to let you all know, and no one else has any idea I am going to announce…”
Just then there was a roar from the crowd as Boots Kilkenny came running up the aisle to Jim and Bobby and threw his arms around them both, like a bear about to throw them down to the floor as a reflex from their football days. Then Sid ran up to join them, grabbing the mic.
“Ladies and gentlemen, Boots Kilkenny will be wrestling at the Minneapolis Auditorium Sunday night! The new addition to Vern Gagne’s AWA! Welcome Boots!”
The audience clapped with abandon as it confirmed Boots as the odds-on favorite secret reveal. The bookies would be busy settling the bets
Jim felt his body leaving, as Mags watched with dismay. She mouthed the word- really’?
Jim shook his head in the affirmative. He knew this would have been a perfect opportunity to run for President. Then Betty Bowles walked by and tapped him on the shoulder.
“I would have voted for you,” while winking.
