Well, my PC crashed so I had to get a new one. My old PC had my next few chapters on it, and I lost them. Some time I will continue but it's gonna take even more time.
That's why I was in the middle of putting the story on here, in case of something like that, LOL. At least I have the first 3/5 of the story or so.
Friday, August 22, 2008
Wednesday, July 16, 2008
One Two Punch - Chapter Ten: "The Qualifiers"
Finally, some basketball action! I gotta tell ya, I've been wanting to write this part out for a while.
I took a while to explain the rules, but I had to.
Chapter Ten: “The Qualifiers”
I drive Danny home and then go home to sleep. The following week I have Danny practicing at every opportunity when he didn’t have any extra-curricular activities going on.
Before I know it, Saturday and the round of the opening qualifiers is upon us. I pick Danny up from school and we drive to Galen Center. The parking lot is extremely full.
We get out and head towards the stadium. It’s at this moment I realize how many father and son teams are competing. The line is backed up into the near parking lot, as if there were actually a USC game going on, except of course hardly anyone had USC merchandise on.
We finally get up to the ticket-takers, and I hand them our pass, and they let us in. They tell us to find a seat in the stands anywhere. Danny and I manage to find fourth row seats in the stands, behind where the commentators usually call the game.
“Well, this is it, Danny,” I say.
“Yep,” he replies.
“You nervous?” I ask.
“Yeah… I mean this is the first time anyone besides you will see me play basketball,” he says. “How about you?”
“Danny, I played college basketball in the NCAA tournament. This is nothing compared to that,” I say.
After waiting for about another half hour, the stands are filled and the tournament chairperson takes the microphone.
“Welcome, fathers and sons, to the first ever father-son basketball tournament!” he says, to vast applause. “Before we begin the qualifiers, I must explain the rules. Each game will take place on half-court. The first team to 21 points wins. You do not need to win by two points or more, so, for example, the final score can be 21-20. After a change of possession, the ball must be taken outside of the three point arc. Failure to do so before a shot results in a turnover. To start each possession, we have what’s called a ‘reset,’ where a player on one team passes to a player on the other to start the possession. Resets occur after out-of-bounds, non-shooting fouls, scores, and the failure to bring the ball outside the three point arc before shooting. Resets must only be completed after the referee has blown his whistle. Also, if the referee determines you passed the ball in an unsportsmanlike manner, he will call for a free throw shot to be taken.”
“There is also a new scoring system. Normal three point shots are now worth two points and regular field goals are worth one point. Fouls in the act of shooting from one point range result in one free throw attempt for the player fouled if the basket is missed. If it is made, they still get one shot. Fouls in the act of shooting from the two point range result in two free throw attempts, and only one if the basket is made. Also, the first possession is determined by a coin flip called by the older of the two fathers. Finally, there is no ‘make it take it’ rule here. Each team that was just scored on will receive the ball in a reset.
“Well, that’s pretty much it. The teams that will be playing will be announced and displayed on the giant screen above your heads. When your names are called, please go to either the ‘north court’, here,” he says, pointing at the court to his right. “Or here,” he says, pointing to the court to his left. “Finally, not only will these games determine who will be playing next week, but it will determine your seedings which will be announced this Wednesday. Unfortunately, if you lose a game today, I’m afraid to say it will be pretty hard to be seeded in the tournament. Anyway, without further ado, let the tournament begin!”
Danny and I watch and listen for our names to be called. We’re able to see a few games going on, most of them one-sided. It looks like there are some pretty good teams here.
After about 3/4 of the teams have played their first game, we finally hear “Mike and Danny Hollins” announced and see our names displayed on the screen, telling us to play on the south court against a father son team named “Tom and Timmy Robinson.”
We get on to the court and see our opponents. The father is wearing a headband and an extremely short pair of shorts and looks out of shape. His son, meanwhile, looks about eight years old.
The referee motions us to gather at the top of the three point arc. He then says “Tom, call it in the air.”
“Tails!” Tom says. It turns out to be in fact, tails, so the referees hands the ball to me to complete the reset with Tom.
I complete the reset and we start. I immediately steal the ball from Tom and face him outside the now two point arc. I fake him out with a juke, drive to the rim and lay it in. On the next possession, Danny manages to steal a pass intended for Timmy and he drops back behind the two point arc, drives to the basket and lays a shot in.
Danny and I continue this play for the rest of the game, and we win, 21-0. We congratulate the other team on a solid effort and head back to the stands.
“Great job, Danny. That’s just what I expected from you,” I tell Danny as we finally take our seats, exasperated.
“You know basketball’s not that hard,” he replies. “We could do pretty well in this tournament.”
“That’s what I’ve been saying!” I say.
After a half hour, we are called again to the court. Our next opponents are a father son team named “Carlos and Miguel Lopez.” They are Mexican, with the father having a bunch of tattoos and the son being about twelve years old.
Again, Danny and I play extremely well, and we manage to win 21-2. The two points we allowed late in the game because we were easing up on our effort levels.
We return to the stands again after our victory, and just ten minutes later, we are called again. This time our opponents include an almost seven foot tall father who tells me before the coin toss he played professionally, which I later wonder if that is true or not. His son is about Danny’s age, perhaps a little younger.
Danny and I slack up at the beginning and actually fall behind, 5-3. But we work hard and go on a 16-2 run to finish the game, to win 21-7. We congratulate the other team and are told by the referee that that was our last game today.
Danny and I leave for the car, discussing the games we played.
“Man, we are going to get a great seed in this tournament,” I say.
“Yeah, I think so,” Danny says.
“Do you know what that means?” I ask.
“That we get to play easier teams?” he replies.
“Exactly. Well, at first we do. Anyway, with how well we played, I wouldn’t be surprised if we got a number one seed,” I say.
“And we find out Wednesday?” Danny asks.
“Yep at 7:00 pm,” I say.
“Great,” Danny says.
“And we should probably practice even more this upcoming week. I know a lot of other father-son teams will,” I say.
“Okay, I can do that,” Danny says.
“So what do you think of basketball so far, Danny? You liking it?” I ask.
“Yeah, I really am. I mean, it’s fun and I’m pretty good at it. If only I started playing when I was younger,” he replies.
“Eh, so you’d rather be like your mother, big deal,” I say.
Danny laughs.
I took a while to explain the rules, but I had to.
Chapter Ten: “The Qualifiers”
I drive Danny home and then go home to sleep. The following week I have Danny practicing at every opportunity when he didn’t have any extra-curricular activities going on.
Before I know it, Saturday and the round of the opening qualifiers is upon us. I pick Danny up from school and we drive to Galen Center. The parking lot is extremely full.
We get out and head towards the stadium. It’s at this moment I realize how many father and son teams are competing. The line is backed up into the near parking lot, as if there were actually a USC game going on, except of course hardly anyone had USC merchandise on.
We finally get up to the ticket-takers, and I hand them our pass, and they let us in. They tell us to find a seat in the stands anywhere. Danny and I manage to find fourth row seats in the stands, behind where the commentators usually call the game.
“Well, this is it, Danny,” I say.
“Yep,” he replies.
“You nervous?” I ask.
“Yeah… I mean this is the first time anyone besides you will see me play basketball,” he says. “How about you?”
“Danny, I played college basketball in the NCAA tournament. This is nothing compared to that,” I say.
After waiting for about another half hour, the stands are filled and the tournament chairperson takes the microphone.
“Welcome, fathers and sons, to the first ever father-son basketball tournament!” he says, to vast applause. “Before we begin the qualifiers, I must explain the rules. Each game will take place on half-court. The first team to 21 points wins. You do not need to win by two points or more, so, for example, the final score can be 21-20. After a change of possession, the ball must be taken outside of the three point arc. Failure to do so before a shot results in a turnover. To start each possession, we have what’s called a ‘reset,’ where a player on one team passes to a player on the other to start the possession. Resets occur after out-of-bounds, non-shooting fouls, scores, and the failure to bring the ball outside the three point arc before shooting. Resets must only be completed after the referee has blown his whistle. Also, if the referee determines you passed the ball in an unsportsmanlike manner, he will call for a free throw shot to be taken.”
“There is also a new scoring system. Normal three point shots are now worth two points and regular field goals are worth one point. Fouls in the act of shooting from one point range result in one free throw attempt for the player fouled if the basket is missed. If it is made, they still get one shot. Fouls in the act of shooting from the two point range result in two free throw attempts, and only one if the basket is made. Also, the first possession is determined by a coin flip called by the older of the two fathers. Finally, there is no ‘make it take it’ rule here. Each team that was just scored on will receive the ball in a reset.
“Well, that’s pretty much it. The teams that will be playing will be announced and displayed on the giant screen above your heads. When your names are called, please go to either the ‘north court’, here,” he says, pointing at the court to his right. “Or here,” he says, pointing to the court to his left. “Finally, not only will these games determine who will be playing next week, but it will determine your seedings which will be announced this Wednesday. Unfortunately, if you lose a game today, I’m afraid to say it will be pretty hard to be seeded in the tournament. Anyway, without further ado, let the tournament begin!”
Danny and I watch and listen for our names to be called. We’re able to see a few games going on, most of them one-sided. It looks like there are some pretty good teams here.
After about 3/4 of the teams have played their first game, we finally hear “Mike and Danny Hollins” announced and see our names displayed on the screen, telling us to play on the south court against a father son team named “Tom and Timmy Robinson.”
We get on to the court and see our opponents. The father is wearing a headband and an extremely short pair of shorts and looks out of shape. His son, meanwhile, looks about eight years old.
The referee motions us to gather at the top of the three point arc. He then says “Tom, call it in the air.”
“Tails!” Tom says. It turns out to be in fact, tails, so the referees hands the ball to me to complete the reset with Tom.
I complete the reset and we start. I immediately steal the ball from Tom and face him outside the now two point arc. I fake him out with a juke, drive to the rim and lay it in. On the next possession, Danny manages to steal a pass intended for Timmy and he drops back behind the two point arc, drives to the basket and lays a shot in.
Danny and I continue this play for the rest of the game, and we win, 21-0. We congratulate the other team on a solid effort and head back to the stands.
“Great job, Danny. That’s just what I expected from you,” I tell Danny as we finally take our seats, exasperated.
“You know basketball’s not that hard,” he replies. “We could do pretty well in this tournament.”
“That’s what I’ve been saying!” I say.
After a half hour, we are called again to the court. Our next opponents are a father son team named “Carlos and Miguel Lopez.” They are Mexican, with the father having a bunch of tattoos and the son being about twelve years old.
Again, Danny and I play extremely well, and we manage to win 21-2. The two points we allowed late in the game because we were easing up on our effort levels.
We return to the stands again after our victory, and just ten minutes later, we are called again. This time our opponents include an almost seven foot tall father who tells me before the coin toss he played professionally, which I later wonder if that is true or not. His son is about Danny’s age, perhaps a little younger.
Danny and I slack up at the beginning and actually fall behind, 5-3. But we work hard and go on a 16-2 run to finish the game, to win 21-7. We congratulate the other team and are told by the referee that that was our last game today.
Danny and I leave for the car, discussing the games we played.
“Man, we are going to get a great seed in this tournament,” I say.
“Yeah, I think so,” Danny says.
“Do you know what that means?” I ask.
“That we get to play easier teams?” he replies.
“Exactly. Well, at first we do. Anyway, with how well we played, I wouldn’t be surprised if we got a number one seed,” I say.
“And we find out Wednesday?” Danny asks.
“Yep at 7:00 pm,” I say.
“Great,” Danny says.
“And we should probably practice even more this upcoming week. I know a lot of other father-son teams will,” I say.
“Okay, I can do that,” Danny says.
“So what do you think of basketball so far, Danny? You liking it?” I ask.
“Yeah, I really am. I mean, it’s fun and I’m pretty good at it. If only I started playing when I was younger,” he replies.
“Eh, so you’d rather be like your mother, big deal,” I say.
Danny laughs.
Thursday, July 10, 2008
One Two Punch - Chapter Nine: "The Fake ID"
Here is Chapter Nine, entitled "The Fake ID". It introduces the character, JT, and it is one of my personal favorite chapters and one of the longer ones. Enjoy!
Chapter Nine: “The Fake ID”
I drove over to the house of where an old friend of mine lives who used to make me and my friends fake ID’s. He is a few years older than me, so he was in college when we needed fake ID’s as seniors in high school. He made them out of his parents’ basement with the help of a lamination machine.
Anyway, I knock on his door. What if he doesn’t live here anymore? An old woman answers the door, and I recognize her as his mother.
“Hi, Mrs. Thomas, does JT still live here?” I ask her.
She gets an angry look on her face. “Why, so he can make you some more fake ID’s?!” she exclaims. “Yes, I know what he was doing for you and your friends. Let me guess, you need one for him?” she asks, referring to Danny.
“Yes,” I say. “But I don’t need it for alcohol, otherwise I could just buy it for him. Listen, to make a long story short, he’s my son and I need a fake ID to change his last name to match mine, since I gave him up for adoption.”
“Oh,” she says. “I see. Well, my son doesn’t live here anymore. He got married, would you believe it? Anyway, I can give you their address, but I must warn you, he’s a changed man now. He won’t be so willing to make you one,” she says.
“That’s okay, I think I can persuade him,” I say as Mrs. Thomas leaves to get a pen and paper. She returns and then writes down the address and hands it to me. “Thank you very much,” I say politely.
“Not at all,” she says. “Goodbye, Michael.”
“Bye,” I say. Danny and I go back to the car and I start driving to the address Mrs. Thomas gave me.
“So, this guy JT made you fake ID’s so you could get beer?” Danny asks.
“Yes, and it was really effective seeing as I was already over six feet tall then. I looked like I was twenty-two, which is what my fake ID said. I would always be the one to buy the beer,” I say.
I pull up to a one story house. Danny and I exit the car and head up to the door and I knock on it.
A man opens the door and I immediately recognize it as JT, but he looked a lot different. He was clean shaven, he had shorter hair, and he was pretty good-looking. “Mike, is that you?” he asks. “What are you doing here?”
“Listen, JT, I need a favor. I need a fake ID,” I say.
JT gets a grimace on his face. “Sorry man, but I don’t do that anymore. Not after the fight I had with my mother.”
“Who is it James?” asks a female voice from inside the house.
“Just an old friend of mine. We won’t be long,” he yells back to her.
“Look, you gotta help me out. You see, this is my son,” I say, referring to Danny.
“You mean the one you gave up for adoption? Wait, aren’t you breaking the law or something?” he asks.
“Well, kind of. His dad doesn’t know I am Danny’s birth father. Anyway, I need the fake ID to enroll him in a basketball tournament, since we don’t have similar last names,” I say. Which reminds me, what time is it? I check my watch and see it is 7:15 PM. We have only forty-five minutes left to sign in.
“What’s so important about this, ‘basketball tournament’, did you say?” he asks.
I nod. “Well, I am in a lot of debt and if I don’t pay it off soon, I am going to be evicted and homeless. The winner of the tournament receives a whopping $25,000,” I say.
JT ponders this for a few seconds. “Gee, y’know, I don’t think I help you out man, I’m sorry,” he says.
“Please JT,” I say, grabbing his arm as he is about to leave and shut the door. “I need this really badly. You know what,” I say, pondering how badly I wanted to get into the tournament. “If we win, I will give you five grand out of twenty five grand,” I say.
He looks intrigued by what I said and says, “All right, I’ll do it. But only because my wife is pregnant, and we could really use the money,” he says. “Come on in.”
“Great, thanks,” I say.
JT goes into the kitchen and I can hear him tell his wife, “Listen, I gotta help this old friend out. He really needs my help. Don’t worry, this will only take five minutes max.”
He comes back and says, “Follow me,” and Danny and I do. He leads us into an office type room, with a desk and computer.
“All right,” JT says, as he gets out a camera. “It’s Danny, right?” he asks.
“Yeah,” Danny says.
“I need you to stand against that wall there. This is for the ID,” JT says. He takes a picture of Danny and then plugs the camera into the computer.
“Let me guess, you want California, right?” he asks, working on his computer.
“Yes,” I say. “Make his name Daniel Hollins.”
“OK, but first Danny, could I see your current ID, so I can match up all the personal info?” JT asks.
“Yeah, sure,” Danny says, pulling out his wallet and handing JT his license.
“OK, great. Wow, looks just like your old one, except for the picture and last name. Well that’s to be expected,” JT says.
“For someone who says they don’t make fake ID’s anymore, you sure can do it quickly,” I say.
“Yeah, well, let’s just say a few of your friends have stopped by again,” JT says. He prints out Danny’s ID and goes to his lamination machine, and laminates it.
“Looks good,” I say, taking it and examining it. I hand it to Danny who puts it in his wallet.
“Could I have my other license back, please?” he asks.
“Sure,” JT says, handing it to him. “Well, I guess that’s it then.”
“Yes, thank you so much, JT,” I say. We head out to the front door and stop.
“Listen, Mike. You’ve gotta win that tournament. If my wife finds out I did this, she’ll get really mad, especially if I don’t get any money out of it,” JT says.
“Don’t worry, you know how good I am at basketball,” I say. “Listen, before I go, the tournament is two weeks from now.”
“Okay. I was thinking ever since we made this deal I should come down and watch it in person. I could bring my wife, but not tell her what it’s for,” he says. “Where is it, by the way?” he asks.
“It’s at Galen Center, where the Trojans basketball team plays,” I say.
“Of course,” JT says.
“One more thing,” I say. “The tournament starts on Saturday, but it isn’t open to the public until Sunday.”
“Okay, I think I can make it,” JT says. “I’ll see you Mike.”
“See ya,” I say.
Danny and I head back to the car and I start to drive back to Galen Center. It is 7:40. I find myself going a bit faster than I normally would.
“I though you said I would get the $5,000,” Danny says, after a few minutes of driving.
“What?” I say, wondering what he was talking about and then finally realizing. “Oh! Well, I promised you $5,000, and you will get $5,000. I’ll take it out of my portion.”
“But I thought you needed almost all of it,” Danny says.
“Well I did, but I think I can manage,” I say.
As I drive a bit further, Danny asks, “What if we get caught?”
“We won’t be. The only people who could rat us out are Jennifer and JT, and I know neither of them will,” I say.
We finally get there, and as we’re running to the doors I check my watch again: 7:57. We run in and see there are only a couple of tables still set up and no families inside. I run up to the nearest one.
“Sorry, we’re late, got caught in traffic. Here’s the form, our ID’s, and the birth certificate,” I say to the man behind the desk, handing him everything I said.
“Okay, everything looks good. You will abide by all the tournament’s rules and regulations?” he asks.
“Yes, sir,” I say.
“Ok, great. The first qualifying game for the tournament is next Saturday at 10:00 AM, a week from today here at Galen Center. Tournament games only take place on weekends to accommodate the fathers’ jobs and their sons’ schoolwork. And here’s your pass to the tournament, show this at the ticket window as you come in,” he says.
“Ok, great,” I say, taking the pass. Danny and I leave Galen Center and head back to my car.
“There’s going to be a qualifying game?” Danny asks.
“Yes, and if I’m not mistaken, more than one. I’m pretty sure they need to whittle down the teams to a power of 2, so no one gets to play fewer games than anyone else, unless they win more,” I say.
“Ok, how many people do you think entered?” he asks.
“My best guess would be a couple hundred, so the qualifier will eliminate people down to 128 or 256 teams. I know, it’s a big tournament, but we can win, Danny. You’ve improved ten times better over practice and I know I still have what I had in college! We’re almost perfect for this competition, because neither the son nor the father can currently be a part of any professional basketball league, and neither of us is!” I say.
“Okay,” Danny says. “You know what? I think we can win too!”
“That’s the spirit!”
Chapter Nine: “The Fake ID”
I drove over to the house of where an old friend of mine lives who used to make me and my friends fake ID’s. He is a few years older than me, so he was in college when we needed fake ID’s as seniors in high school. He made them out of his parents’ basement with the help of a lamination machine.
Anyway, I knock on his door. What if he doesn’t live here anymore? An old woman answers the door, and I recognize her as his mother.
“Hi, Mrs. Thomas, does JT still live here?” I ask her.
She gets an angry look on her face. “Why, so he can make you some more fake ID’s?!” she exclaims. “Yes, I know what he was doing for you and your friends. Let me guess, you need one for him?” she asks, referring to Danny.
“Yes,” I say. “But I don’t need it for alcohol, otherwise I could just buy it for him. Listen, to make a long story short, he’s my son and I need a fake ID to change his last name to match mine, since I gave him up for adoption.”
“Oh,” she says. “I see. Well, my son doesn’t live here anymore. He got married, would you believe it? Anyway, I can give you their address, but I must warn you, he’s a changed man now. He won’t be so willing to make you one,” she says.
“That’s okay, I think I can persuade him,” I say as Mrs. Thomas leaves to get a pen and paper. She returns and then writes down the address and hands it to me. “Thank you very much,” I say politely.
“Not at all,” she says. “Goodbye, Michael.”
“Bye,” I say. Danny and I go back to the car and I start driving to the address Mrs. Thomas gave me.
“So, this guy JT made you fake ID’s so you could get beer?” Danny asks.
“Yes, and it was really effective seeing as I was already over six feet tall then. I looked like I was twenty-two, which is what my fake ID said. I would always be the one to buy the beer,” I say.
I pull up to a one story house. Danny and I exit the car and head up to the door and I knock on it.
A man opens the door and I immediately recognize it as JT, but he looked a lot different. He was clean shaven, he had shorter hair, and he was pretty good-looking. “Mike, is that you?” he asks. “What are you doing here?”
“Listen, JT, I need a favor. I need a fake ID,” I say.
JT gets a grimace on his face. “Sorry man, but I don’t do that anymore. Not after the fight I had with my mother.”
“Who is it James?” asks a female voice from inside the house.
“Just an old friend of mine. We won’t be long,” he yells back to her.
“Look, you gotta help me out. You see, this is my son,” I say, referring to Danny.
“You mean the one you gave up for adoption? Wait, aren’t you breaking the law or something?” he asks.
“Well, kind of. His dad doesn’t know I am Danny’s birth father. Anyway, I need the fake ID to enroll him in a basketball tournament, since we don’t have similar last names,” I say. Which reminds me, what time is it? I check my watch and see it is 7:15 PM. We have only forty-five minutes left to sign in.
“What’s so important about this, ‘basketball tournament’, did you say?” he asks.
I nod. “Well, I am in a lot of debt and if I don’t pay it off soon, I am going to be evicted and homeless. The winner of the tournament receives a whopping $25,000,” I say.
JT ponders this for a few seconds. “Gee, y’know, I don’t think I help you out man, I’m sorry,” he says.
“Please JT,” I say, grabbing his arm as he is about to leave and shut the door. “I need this really badly. You know what,” I say, pondering how badly I wanted to get into the tournament. “If we win, I will give you five grand out of twenty five grand,” I say.
He looks intrigued by what I said and says, “All right, I’ll do it. But only because my wife is pregnant, and we could really use the money,” he says. “Come on in.”
“Great, thanks,” I say.
JT goes into the kitchen and I can hear him tell his wife, “Listen, I gotta help this old friend out. He really needs my help. Don’t worry, this will only take five minutes max.”
He comes back and says, “Follow me,” and Danny and I do. He leads us into an office type room, with a desk and computer.
“All right,” JT says, as he gets out a camera. “It’s Danny, right?” he asks.
“Yeah,” Danny says.
“I need you to stand against that wall there. This is for the ID,” JT says. He takes a picture of Danny and then plugs the camera into the computer.
“Let me guess, you want California, right?” he asks, working on his computer.
“Yes,” I say. “Make his name Daniel Hollins.”
“OK, but first Danny, could I see your current ID, so I can match up all the personal info?” JT asks.
“Yeah, sure,” Danny says, pulling out his wallet and handing JT his license.
“OK, great. Wow, looks just like your old one, except for the picture and last name. Well that’s to be expected,” JT says.
“For someone who says they don’t make fake ID’s anymore, you sure can do it quickly,” I say.
“Yeah, well, let’s just say a few of your friends have stopped by again,” JT says. He prints out Danny’s ID and goes to his lamination machine, and laminates it.
“Looks good,” I say, taking it and examining it. I hand it to Danny who puts it in his wallet.
“Could I have my other license back, please?” he asks.
“Sure,” JT says, handing it to him. “Well, I guess that’s it then.”
“Yes, thank you so much, JT,” I say. We head out to the front door and stop.
“Listen, Mike. You’ve gotta win that tournament. If my wife finds out I did this, she’ll get really mad, especially if I don’t get any money out of it,” JT says.
“Don’t worry, you know how good I am at basketball,” I say. “Listen, before I go, the tournament is two weeks from now.”
“Okay. I was thinking ever since we made this deal I should come down and watch it in person. I could bring my wife, but not tell her what it’s for,” he says. “Where is it, by the way?” he asks.
“It’s at Galen Center, where the Trojans basketball team plays,” I say.
“Of course,” JT says.
“One more thing,” I say. “The tournament starts on Saturday, but it isn’t open to the public until Sunday.”
“Okay, I think I can make it,” JT says. “I’ll see you Mike.”
“See ya,” I say.
Danny and I head back to the car and I start to drive back to Galen Center. It is 7:40. I find myself going a bit faster than I normally would.
“I though you said I would get the $5,000,” Danny says, after a few minutes of driving.
“What?” I say, wondering what he was talking about and then finally realizing. “Oh! Well, I promised you $5,000, and you will get $5,000. I’ll take it out of my portion.”
“But I thought you needed almost all of it,” Danny says.
“Well I did, but I think I can manage,” I say.
As I drive a bit further, Danny asks, “What if we get caught?”
“We won’t be. The only people who could rat us out are Jennifer and JT, and I know neither of them will,” I say.
We finally get there, and as we’re running to the doors I check my watch again: 7:57. We run in and see there are only a couple of tables still set up and no families inside. I run up to the nearest one.
“Sorry, we’re late, got caught in traffic. Here’s the form, our ID’s, and the birth certificate,” I say to the man behind the desk, handing him everything I said.
“Okay, everything looks good. You will abide by all the tournament’s rules and regulations?” he asks.
“Yes, sir,” I say.
“Ok, great. The first qualifying game for the tournament is next Saturday at 10:00 AM, a week from today here at Galen Center. Tournament games only take place on weekends to accommodate the fathers’ jobs and their sons’ schoolwork. And here’s your pass to the tournament, show this at the ticket window as you come in,” he says.
“Ok, great,” I say, taking the pass. Danny and I leave Galen Center and head back to my car.
“There’s going to be a qualifying game?” Danny asks.
“Yes, and if I’m not mistaken, more than one. I’m pretty sure they need to whittle down the teams to a power of 2, so no one gets to play fewer games than anyone else, unless they win more,” I say.
“Ok, how many people do you think entered?” he asks.
“My best guess would be a couple hundred, so the qualifier will eliminate people down to 128 or 256 teams. I know, it’s a big tournament, but we can win, Danny. You’ve improved ten times better over practice and I know I still have what I had in college! We’re almost perfect for this competition, because neither the son nor the father can currently be a part of any professional basketball league, and neither of us is!” I say.
“Okay,” Danny says. “You know what? I think we can win too!”
“That’s the spirit!”
Thursday, July 3, 2008
One Two Punch - Chapter Eight: "Trouble Signing In"
I know it's been a while... but I've been on vacation. That link I had up was just to test something....
Anyway, here is chapter eight entitled "Trouble Signing In". It's one of the shorter chapters, BTW:
Chapter Eight: “Trouble Signing In”
On Monday, I pull Danny aside after class to talk to him.
“What’s up?” he asks.
“Listen, signing up for the tournament is today, I only just realized. Are you available today after school?”
“Yeah, but I have band practice, but I can be done by 4:00,” he says.
I think about it. “Okay, that’ll work. So come to my class at four, ok?”
“Ok, I’ll do that,” he says.
“Oh, wait! You don’t have your birth certificate with you, do you?” I ask.
“No, but I could drive home and get it real quick,” he says.
“So where would that put you on getting back here?” I ask.
“About 4:15,” he says.
“Ok, that’ll still work. See you then, Danny,” I say.
“See ya,” he says.
So after I let my last class go at 2:30, I patiently wait at the school for 4:15. After I’ve finished grading my papers, I just surf the internet. I lose track of time and just as I’m thinking of checking the clock, I hear a knock on the door.
“Come in,” I say. It’s Danny.
“Hey, ready to go?” he asks.
“Yep. You got your birth certificate and ID?” I ask him.
“Yep. My dad wondered why I was in such a hurry so I made up I left my mouthpiece at home” he says.
“Great cover up,” I tell him. “All right, let’s go.”
We go to my car, talking about strategy for the tournament. I drive down to the Galen Center, home of the Trojans basketball team, where the signups are beginning. I never played in the arena as it was built in 2006.
We get out of the car and head in the doors. As we get in, a man asks if we’re here to sign up for the tournament. I say yes, and he hands us some forms and tells us to fill them out. We enter the arena and it is jam-packed with fathers, sons, and even some other family members here and there, lining up to sign up for the tournament. There had to be 20 tables, each with two people at them.
We stand in line and fill out our forms. And then we wait. We waited for what seemed like eons. After about an hour, we finally get to the front of the line.
“Here’s our forms,” I say, handing them to the woman behind the desk.
“OK, do you have a birth certificate and ID for both of you?” She asks.
“Yes,” I say, handing her my and Danny’s ID’s and his birth certificate. “Hmmm….” she says. “Why are your last names different?”
“Because he lives with another family… I gave him up for adoption,” I say. I regretted the words as soon as I spoke them.
“Well, the eligibility requirements clearly state you must be his legal guardian and father who appears on the birth certificate and I’m sorry you only fulfill one of those requirements,” she informs us.
Shoot! “Are you serious? Damn, I must have read over that! Excuse us, please,” I tell her. I take Danny’s arm and pull him to the side.
“What do we do?” he asks me.
“I’m thinking…” I tell him. “Ok, we got two options… both of which are not that appealing, but they’re our only options,”
“Ok,” he responds.
“Option number one, your dad plays in this tournament for me and we hope for the best,” I say.
“Are you kidding? Have you seen my dad?” he says.
“I know. Option number two, we go to another desk and say I am your legal guardian.”
“But my ID has a different last name than yours,” Danny says.
“That is where we get a fake ID,” I tell him.
“Isn’t that illegal?” he asks.
I hesitate and say, “Yes… but if we don’t get caught, what they don’t know won’t hurt them. So let’s see… signing in to the tournaments ends at 8:00 PM tonight... but that’s no problem. I know a guy I went to college with who used to get us fake ID’s all the time. He helped us get a lot of beer, I tell ya.”
“Ok, great,” Danny says.
“So, you’re all right with this?” I ask him.
“Yeah, I guess,” he says. “Let’s just do this and get it over with.”
“We gotta hurry though, let’s go,” I tell Danny, as we head out the doors of Galen Center.
Anyway, here is chapter eight entitled "Trouble Signing In". It's one of the shorter chapters, BTW:
Chapter Eight: “Trouble Signing In”
On Monday, I pull Danny aside after class to talk to him.
“What’s up?” he asks.
“Listen, signing up for the tournament is today, I only just realized. Are you available today after school?”
“Yeah, but I have band practice, but I can be done by 4:00,” he says.
I think about it. “Okay, that’ll work. So come to my class at four, ok?”
“Ok, I’ll do that,” he says.
“Oh, wait! You don’t have your birth certificate with you, do you?” I ask.
“No, but I could drive home and get it real quick,” he says.
“So where would that put you on getting back here?” I ask.
“About 4:15,” he says.
“Ok, that’ll still work. See you then, Danny,” I say.
“See ya,” he says.
So after I let my last class go at 2:30, I patiently wait at the school for 4:15. After I’ve finished grading my papers, I just surf the internet. I lose track of time and just as I’m thinking of checking the clock, I hear a knock on the door.
“Come in,” I say. It’s Danny.
“Hey, ready to go?” he asks.
“Yep. You got your birth certificate and ID?” I ask him.
“Yep. My dad wondered why I was in such a hurry so I made up I left my mouthpiece at home” he says.
“Great cover up,” I tell him. “All right, let’s go.”
We go to my car, talking about strategy for the tournament. I drive down to the Galen Center, home of the Trojans basketball team, where the signups are beginning. I never played in the arena as it was built in 2006.
We get out of the car and head in the doors. As we get in, a man asks if we’re here to sign up for the tournament. I say yes, and he hands us some forms and tells us to fill them out. We enter the arena and it is jam-packed with fathers, sons, and even some other family members here and there, lining up to sign up for the tournament. There had to be 20 tables, each with two people at them.
We stand in line and fill out our forms. And then we wait. We waited for what seemed like eons. After about an hour, we finally get to the front of the line.
“Here’s our forms,” I say, handing them to the woman behind the desk.
“OK, do you have a birth certificate and ID for both of you?” She asks.
“Yes,” I say, handing her my and Danny’s ID’s and his birth certificate. “Hmmm….” she says. “Why are your last names different?”
“Because he lives with another family… I gave him up for adoption,” I say. I regretted the words as soon as I spoke them.
“Well, the eligibility requirements clearly state you must be his legal guardian and father who appears on the birth certificate and I’m sorry you only fulfill one of those requirements,” she informs us.
Shoot! “Are you serious? Damn, I must have read over that! Excuse us, please,” I tell her. I take Danny’s arm and pull him to the side.
“What do we do?” he asks me.
“I’m thinking…” I tell him. “Ok, we got two options… both of which are not that appealing, but they’re our only options,”
“Ok,” he responds.
“Option number one, your dad plays in this tournament for me and we hope for the best,” I say.
“Are you kidding? Have you seen my dad?” he says.
“I know. Option number two, we go to another desk and say I am your legal guardian.”
“But my ID has a different last name than yours,” Danny says.
“That is where we get a fake ID,” I tell him.
“Isn’t that illegal?” he asks.
I hesitate and say, “Yes… but if we don’t get caught, what they don’t know won’t hurt them. So let’s see… signing in to the tournaments ends at 8:00 PM tonight... but that’s no problem. I know a guy I went to college with who used to get us fake ID’s all the time. He helped us get a lot of beer, I tell ya.”
“Ok, great,” Danny says.
“So, you’re all right with this?” I ask him.
“Yeah, I guess,” he says. “Let’s just do this and get it over with.”
“We gotta hurry though, let’s go,” I tell Danny, as we head out the doors of Galen Center.
Saturday, June 28, 2008
One Two Punch - Chapter Seven: "Catching Up"
Here's chapter seven, entitled "Catching Up". Enjoy!
Chapter Seven: “Catching Up”
On Sunday, I woke up feeling rather tired having not gotten much sleep. I followed my normal routine for Sundays, which included catching my favorite NFL team’s game, the San Diego Chargers. Almost immediately after the game I heard my phone ring and saw the Caller ID read “Paul Carey”.
“Hello?” I said, answering the phone.
“Hi, Mike? This is Jennifer. I need to talk to you,” I hear Jennifer’s voice say.
“Oh, ok, sure I have some time now. What do you need to talk about?” I wonder.
“Well, I’d really like to meet in you in person… can you meet me at the high school? We could go for a walk.”
“Yeah, sure. I’ll be there in ten minutes,” I tell her.
“Great, I’ll see you then. Bye.”
“Bye.”
I hang up the phone and grab my car keys and head out the door and drive to the school. I get there and I only have to wait a few minutes before I see another car pulling up. Out comes a woman, just as I remembered as my high school sweetheart. She hadn’t changed much.
“Hi,” I greet Jennifer.
“Hi, Mike. Wow, you look great,” she says. Wow!
“So do you. So you want to walk?” I ask.
“Sure,” she says as we begin walking.
“So, what’s up?” I ask her.
“Well, I’ll just cut right to it. Paul and I are having a bit of trouble, marriage wise.”
“Ah. Go on.”
“Well, we might be getting a divorce soon,” she says.
“Why, what’s been wrong?” I ask politely.
“Well, we haven’t been spending too much time together, and we’ve been having big fights about money and the fact that I want kids and he doesn’t—”
“Woah, you married a guy who doesn’t want to have kids?” I interrupt her.
“Well, he was all right with having kids when we got married. I mean, he was like ‘I’ll have kids if you want to have them,’ but now he’s just totally against having them. He says they cost too much money and are too much of a hassle,” she says.
“Ok, Jenn, this is all news to me, but why are you telling me? And why here and not on the phone?” I ask.
“Well, Mike, ever since you called a few weeks ago, I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you, and all the good times we had. I miss you.”
“I miss you too,” I say.
“Well, if Paul and I break up, would you want to get back together?” she asks.
There’s a question I never thought I’d be asked. “Uh, I don’t know. I just don’t want to get in the middle of a marriage,” I say.
“Oh, ok,” Jennifer says. Oh boy, I disappointed her.
“I mean… ok, pretend he wants to have kids. Pretend you guys have a bunch of time together. I mean, don’t you still love him?” I ask. I cannot believe I am doing this. I’m such a nice guy.
“Well, yeah, I do. But that’s the thing: he doesn’t want to have kids. He’s been pretty clear about it,” she says.
“Well, then leave him. He’s obviously not good enough for you,” I say.
“But what about us? I mean, think of all the great times we had together,” she says.
“If you guys officially divorce, I’ll consider it. But I’m not dating a married woman,” I say. Me and my morals at it again.
“Ok, thanks Mike. Let me ask you something. Do you miss me?” she asks.
“‘Do I miss you?’” I repeat. “Does a bear poop in the woods?”
“Yes,” she says with uncertainty.
“Of course I miss you! But I don’t want to break up with you, ever again. And I certainly don’t want your husband mad at me.”
“I understand,” she says.
By now we have returned to the school.
“Listen, before I go, I want you to know something. I’m competing with our son in a basketball tournament. If we make it to the final game, it’ll be three weeks from now on Sunday,” I tell her.
“Ok. Wait, what’s our son’s name? His adoptive parents never told me what they named him.”
“Daniel, but he goes by Danny. Funny story… actually our son turned out to be one of my students,” I tell her.
“One of your students?” she asks quizzically.
“Oh!” I say, just realizing. “I haven’t told you. I am a teacher at this school now. I teach advanced history,” I inform her.
“Wow, really? And our son turned out to be one of your students? What a coincidence,” she says.
“I know. Listen, I gotta go, nice catching up with you, Jenn,” I say.
“Yeah, you too.”
We get in our cars and drive home.
Chapter Seven: “Catching Up”
On Sunday, I woke up feeling rather tired having not gotten much sleep. I followed my normal routine for Sundays, which included catching my favorite NFL team’s game, the San Diego Chargers. Almost immediately after the game I heard my phone ring and saw the Caller ID read “Paul Carey”.
“Hello?” I said, answering the phone.
“Hi, Mike? This is Jennifer. I need to talk to you,” I hear Jennifer’s voice say.
“Oh, ok, sure I have some time now. What do you need to talk about?” I wonder.
“Well, I’d really like to meet in you in person… can you meet me at the high school? We could go for a walk.”
“Yeah, sure. I’ll be there in ten minutes,” I tell her.
“Great, I’ll see you then. Bye.”
“Bye.”
I hang up the phone and grab my car keys and head out the door and drive to the school. I get there and I only have to wait a few minutes before I see another car pulling up. Out comes a woman, just as I remembered as my high school sweetheart. She hadn’t changed much.
“Hi,” I greet Jennifer.
“Hi, Mike. Wow, you look great,” she says. Wow!
“So do you. So you want to walk?” I ask.
“Sure,” she says as we begin walking.
“So, what’s up?” I ask her.
“Well, I’ll just cut right to it. Paul and I are having a bit of trouble, marriage wise.”
“Ah. Go on.”
“Well, we might be getting a divorce soon,” she says.
“Why, what’s been wrong?” I ask politely.
“Well, we haven’t been spending too much time together, and we’ve been having big fights about money and the fact that I want kids and he doesn’t—”
“Woah, you married a guy who doesn’t want to have kids?” I interrupt her.
“Well, he was all right with having kids when we got married. I mean, he was like ‘I’ll have kids if you want to have them,’ but now he’s just totally against having them. He says they cost too much money and are too much of a hassle,” she says.
“Ok, Jenn, this is all news to me, but why are you telling me? And why here and not on the phone?” I ask.
“Well, Mike, ever since you called a few weeks ago, I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you, and all the good times we had. I miss you.”
“I miss you too,” I say.
“Well, if Paul and I break up, would you want to get back together?” she asks.
There’s a question I never thought I’d be asked. “Uh, I don’t know. I just don’t want to get in the middle of a marriage,” I say.
“Oh, ok,” Jennifer says. Oh boy, I disappointed her.
“I mean… ok, pretend he wants to have kids. Pretend you guys have a bunch of time together. I mean, don’t you still love him?” I ask. I cannot believe I am doing this. I’m such a nice guy.
“Well, yeah, I do. But that’s the thing: he doesn’t want to have kids. He’s been pretty clear about it,” she says.
“Well, then leave him. He’s obviously not good enough for you,” I say.
“But what about us? I mean, think of all the great times we had together,” she says.
“If you guys officially divorce, I’ll consider it. But I’m not dating a married woman,” I say. Me and my morals at it again.
“Ok, thanks Mike. Let me ask you something. Do you miss me?” she asks.
“‘Do I miss you?’” I repeat. “Does a bear poop in the woods?”
“Yes,” she says with uncertainty.
“Of course I miss you! But I don’t want to break up with you, ever again. And I certainly don’t want your husband mad at me.”
“I understand,” she says.
By now we have returned to the school.
“Listen, before I go, I want you to know something. I’m competing with our son in a basketball tournament. If we make it to the final game, it’ll be three weeks from now on Sunday,” I tell her.
“Ok. Wait, what’s our son’s name? His adoptive parents never told me what they named him.”
“Daniel, but he goes by Danny. Funny story… actually our son turned out to be one of my students,” I tell her.
“One of your students?” she asks quizzically.
“Oh!” I say, just realizing. “I haven’t told you. I am a teacher at this school now. I teach advanced history,” I inform her.
“Wow, really? And our son turned out to be one of your students? What a coincidence,” she says.
“I know. Listen, I gotta go, nice catching up with you, Jenn,” I say.
“Yeah, you too.”
We get in our cars and drive home.
Tuesday, June 24, 2008
One Two Punch - Chapter Six: "Practice, Practice, and More Practice"
Chapter six is done... I have to admit I took the free throw shooting techniques from the novel, "The Million Dollar Shot" by Bill Gutman.
And it's one of the shorter chapters, but there's only so much you can write about two people practicing basketball.
Chapter Six: “Practice, Practice, and More Practice”
The first thing I wanted Danny to learn how to do was to shoot a free throw. I’ve always thought, if you can shoot a free throw, you can shoot a jump shot.
I give Danny the ball and say, “All right, now step up to the free throw line, and take a shot.”
“Ok,” he replies. He looks rather tense as he steps up to take the shot with my eyes on him. He brings the ball into his chest and shot puts it with both hands towards the rim. It hits the front of the rim and drops straight down.
“Well, we may have some work to do,” I say as I grab the rebound. “First off, you actually are doing a good job holding your elbows in. However, you have to use your legs more when shooting.”
“Ok.” He takes the ball from me and puts up another shot while jumping and it hits the backboard and comes right back to him.
“Well, we’ll get there. By ‘using your legs’ I meant helping them propel the ball towards the basket, not actually jumping. By jumping you are only decreasing your chance of making the shot.
“Now let me show you how to shoot a free throw,” I say, signaling for him to give me the ball. I step up to the free throw line. “You want to dribble the ball a certain number of times, anywhere from 2 to 5. But it has to be routine. You can’t just go from 2 to 5 to 3. Also, you want to keep the air hole of the ball up. Then, you bend your knees slightly, elbows in, and aim for the spot above the rim, not the rim itself,” I say as I shoot the free throw, which swishes through.
“Ok, cool,” Danny says. He gets the rebound and lines up at the free throw line. He takes a shot doing everything I told him, but it glances off the back rim.
“Let me ask you something, Danny,” I say after grabbing the miss. “What are you thinking of when you shoot the basketball?”
“I’m thinking of making the shot.”
“Wrong! You have to clear your mind, thinking of absolutely nothing,” I point out.
“Ok. I’ll try that.” I give him the basketball and he follows the routine again, this time, sinking the shot.
“There you go! If you keep doing that, this championship is in the bag!” I say.
“Wow, cool. I didn’t know I could do that,” Danny says.
“One more thing Danny about free throw shooting I want to tell you. It’s gotta be routine. Like eating breakfast or taking a shower. You don’t even think about what you’re doing or what you have to do. You just do it,” I advise him.
“Ok, I’ll keep that in mind,” he says.
“Now I’m going to show you how to handle the basketball,” I say.
I show Danny the proper methods of passing and dribbling the basketball, and before too long, Danny is even able to complete a between the legs dribble.
“Wow, very good!” I say. “You see, I knew you had it in you!”
“Well, I am a quick learner,” Danny replies.
Within hours, I believe I got Danny good enough as to where he would be a capable backup on the high school team I coach.
At the end of practice, I play one on one against Danny for fun, but as he is fatigued and still inexperienced, I beat him handily, despite trying to be easy on him. However, he does make about half of the shots he takes.
“Great practice, Danny. Seeing as the qualifier’s next week, and we’re both busy until then, this’ll have to do,” I tell him.
“Ok. I think I got it.”
“Great. Now if you ever have time this week to practice and I’m not available, I’d like you to practice here in the gym.”
“Okay, I’ll keep that in mind,” he says.
“Great, see you Monday in class, son,” I tell him. First time I’ve ever called him that.
“See ya, dad,” he replies.
I can only smile.
And it's one of the shorter chapters, but there's only so much you can write about two people practicing basketball.
Chapter Six: “Practice, Practice, and More Practice”
The first thing I wanted Danny to learn how to do was to shoot a free throw. I’ve always thought, if you can shoot a free throw, you can shoot a jump shot.
I give Danny the ball and say, “All right, now step up to the free throw line, and take a shot.”
“Ok,” he replies. He looks rather tense as he steps up to take the shot with my eyes on him. He brings the ball into his chest and shot puts it with both hands towards the rim. It hits the front of the rim and drops straight down.
“Well, we may have some work to do,” I say as I grab the rebound. “First off, you actually are doing a good job holding your elbows in. However, you have to use your legs more when shooting.”
“Ok.” He takes the ball from me and puts up another shot while jumping and it hits the backboard and comes right back to him.
“Well, we’ll get there. By ‘using your legs’ I meant helping them propel the ball towards the basket, not actually jumping. By jumping you are only decreasing your chance of making the shot.
“Now let me show you how to shoot a free throw,” I say, signaling for him to give me the ball. I step up to the free throw line. “You want to dribble the ball a certain number of times, anywhere from 2 to 5. But it has to be routine. You can’t just go from 2 to 5 to 3. Also, you want to keep the air hole of the ball up. Then, you bend your knees slightly, elbows in, and aim for the spot above the rim, not the rim itself,” I say as I shoot the free throw, which swishes through.
“Ok, cool,” Danny says. He gets the rebound and lines up at the free throw line. He takes a shot doing everything I told him, but it glances off the back rim.
“Let me ask you something, Danny,” I say after grabbing the miss. “What are you thinking of when you shoot the basketball?”
“I’m thinking of making the shot.”
“Wrong! You have to clear your mind, thinking of absolutely nothing,” I point out.
“Ok. I’ll try that.” I give him the basketball and he follows the routine again, this time, sinking the shot.
“There you go! If you keep doing that, this championship is in the bag!” I say.
“Wow, cool. I didn’t know I could do that,” Danny says.
“One more thing Danny about free throw shooting I want to tell you. It’s gotta be routine. Like eating breakfast or taking a shower. You don’t even think about what you’re doing or what you have to do. You just do it,” I advise him.
“Ok, I’ll keep that in mind,” he says.
“Now I’m going to show you how to handle the basketball,” I say.
I show Danny the proper methods of passing and dribbling the basketball, and before too long, Danny is even able to complete a between the legs dribble.
“Wow, very good!” I say. “You see, I knew you had it in you!”
“Well, I am a quick learner,” Danny replies.
Within hours, I believe I got Danny good enough as to where he would be a capable backup on the high school team I coach.
At the end of practice, I play one on one against Danny for fun, but as he is fatigued and still inexperienced, I beat him handily, despite trying to be easy on him. However, he does make about half of the shots he takes.
“Great practice, Danny. Seeing as the qualifier’s next week, and we’re both busy until then, this’ll have to do,” I tell him.
“Ok. I think I got it.”
“Great. Now if you ever have time this week to practice and I’m not available, I’d like you to practice here in the gym.”
“Okay, I’ll keep that in mind,” he says.
“Great, see you Monday in class, son,” I tell him. First time I’ve ever called him that.
“See ya, dad,” he replies.
I can only smile.
Wednesday, June 18, 2008
One Two Punch - Chapter Five: "Flashbacks"
I just finished Chapter Five... it was one of my favorite chapters to write.
Chapter Five: “Flashbacks”
Showing up at the gym early on Saturday, I decided to get some practice in before Danny came so I wouldn’t need to take up his time practicing. I took a few jumpers here and there, hitting most of them. I still got it. In just ten minutes after I arrived, so did Danny.
“Hey, buddy,” I greeted him.
“Hey,” he replies. “Is it all right if I ask you something?”
“Sure… is it about school or the fact that I’m your biological father?”
“The second one. I just want to know more about you and my mom… how you guys got pregnant and why you aren’t together now,” Danny says.
“Oh boy… that was a long time ago, and I’m not sure we have the time,” I reply.
“How would you feel if you hardly knew anything about your parents?” he asked.
“Fine. I’ll tell you. I guess it all started the summer of junior year…”
I was seventeen years old, and I worked at the local pizza joint. My job included cleaning up the place and delivering the people their pizzas at their tables. I remembered every face that came in. But there was this one that I could not forget for even a minute. She strode about with the grace of an angel, and she always had friends with her. I longed to be with her so much.
She and her friends were regulars and were also classmates of mine. Even though I was a star on the basketball team, they didn’t seem to deem me popular enough to be in their clique.
One Friday evening I’m delivering a pizza to a table and I see that one girl I liked, and for the first time, she was alone. This was even harder to do.
“Here you go, enjoy,” I say as I give her her small pizza.
As I start to walk away she catches my arm and says, “Wait.” I turn around and for the first true time, our eyes meet. I could have sworn I started drooling at this point.
“I was wondering if you would like to go out with me… Mike”, she says.
“You know my name?” I ask.
“Of course, you’re the best athlete at our school!” she says. This made my heart feel so good.
“I’d love to.”
“Great! Here’s my number, why don’t you give me a call?”
“Okay, I will. See ya.”
“Bye.”
“And that’s how I started dating your mother,” I tell Danny.
“Cool. How’d you guys get pregnant?” he asks bluntly.
“What? 'How’d you guys get pregnant?' What kind of question is that?” I ask.
“I just wanted to know how my parents could be so stupid to get pregnant while still in high school,” Danny says.
“Look, we were not stu-” I say, but then realizing, maybe we were. “Fine, I’ll tell you. But if you think it’s all gross and weird that you’re hearing about your parents’ love lives, well then, that’s your own fault.”
“Fine,” he says.
Her name, as I have told you, was Jennifer. Jennifer Widmore. She was head cheerleader and vice president of the student government. And she was dating me.
“Yeah I know that,” Danny says bluntly.
“Hey, she was the head cheerleader, and I was dating her! I mean, are you dating the head cheerleader?”
“No…”
“Then let me tell my story. Anyway…”
Homecoming was approaching fast, and we’d already decided to go together. To make a long story short, we won Homecoming King and Queen. But that wasn’t the big news kids talked about at their lockers the next day.
Later that night, I decided to drop Jennifer off at her house. However, she invited me in and we talked for the longest time. I found out her parents were on a trip to Las Vegas. So we were in the house, all alone. One thing led to another, and we were making out, right on her parents’ sofa. Then, after she takes her tongue out of my mouth, she starts unbuttoning my shirt…
“Ew. I don’t need to know all the details of how you had sex,” Danny interrupts.
“You asked for it.”
“No, I thought I was asking for everything leading up to it.”
“Fine. I’ll jump after it.”
So as you already know, we did not use contraceptives. Of course we knew about them, but we figured a few things. We’d probably not get pregnant in the first place and even if we did, we loved each other so much we thought we could handle it.
“Wait. You guys had been going out for a few months and had already talked about kids?” Danny interrupts.
“Let me tell you this Danny. Our first four months were the greatest four months in the history of all relationships. I had already told her I love her by the first day of senior year.”
“Wow. So, is there more?”
“Yep. Anyway…”
I drove home and went to bed. I drove to Jennifer’s house to drive her to school the next day as I always did and as she came out she told me, “Hey, Mike, can you me to Bartell’s on the way to school? There’s just something I want to get.”
“Okay, sure,” I say. So I drive there and let her out. A minute later she emerges with a small bag.
“What did you get?” I ask her.
“Nothing, never mind,” she says.
Over the course of the four months of knowing her, I knew I shouldn’t ask anymore, so I didn’t. I assumed possibly it could be a birthday present for me, but my birthday wasn’t for a few months.
“When is your birthday by the way?” Danny asks.
“January 17, 1972.” I respond.
Anyway, we got to school, and we said our goodbyes as we had different first periods. We met after first period and as I walked up to her she had a glum look on her face. Even when I went to kiss her, she didn’t kiss back.
“What’s up?”
“I’m pregnant.”
My jaw dropped. I could not believe it, me, a father?
To make a long story short, that’s all I thought of that day. And since she told her friend who told her friend and so on, the whole school knew. Our classmates found out, our teachers found out, and then of course, our parents found out.
“Wow,” Danny says. “So, what about the adoption process? How’d you guys end up picking my parents?”
“That Danny, is for another time,” I say. “We’re wasting valuable practice time, now come on, let me show you the basics.”
Chapter Five: “Flashbacks”
Showing up at the gym early on Saturday, I decided to get some practice in before Danny came so I wouldn’t need to take up his time practicing. I took a few jumpers here and there, hitting most of them. I still got it. In just ten minutes after I arrived, so did Danny.
“Hey, buddy,” I greeted him.
“Hey,” he replies. “Is it all right if I ask you something?”
“Sure… is it about school or the fact that I’m your biological father?”
“The second one. I just want to know more about you and my mom… how you guys got pregnant and why you aren’t together now,” Danny says.
“Oh boy… that was a long time ago, and I’m not sure we have the time,” I reply.
“How would you feel if you hardly knew anything about your parents?” he asked.
“Fine. I’ll tell you. I guess it all started the summer of junior year…”
I was seventeen years old, and I worked at the local pizza joint. My job included cleaning up the place and delivering the people their pizzas at their tables. I remembered every face that came in. But there was this one that I could not forget for even a minute. She strode about with the grace of an angel, and she always had friends with her. I longed to be with her so much.
She and her friends were regulars and were also classmates of mine. Even though I was a star on the basketball team, they didn’t seem to deem me popular enough to be in their clique.
One Friday evening I’m delivering a pizza to a table and I see that one girl I liked, and for the first time, she was alone. This was even harder to do.
“Here you go, enjoy,” I say as I give her her small pizza.
As I start to walk away she catches my arm and says, “Wait.” I turn around and for the first true time, our eyes meet. I could have sworn I started drooling at this point.
“I was wondering if you would like to go out with me… Mike”, she says.
“You know my name?” I ask.
“Of course, you’re the best athlete at our school!” she says. This made my heart feel so good.
“I’d love to.”
“Great! Here’s my number, why don’t you give me a call?”
“Okay, I will. See ya.”
“Bye.”
“And that’s how I started dating your mother,” I tell Danny.
“Cool. How’d you guys get pregnant?” he asks bluntly.
“What? 'How’d you guys get pregnant?' What kind of question is that?” I ask.
“I just wanted to know how my parents could be so stupid to get pregnant while still in high school,” Danny says.
“Look, we were not stu-” I say, but then realizing, maybe we were. “Fine, I’ll tell you. But if you think it’s all gross and weird that you’re hearing about your parents’ love lives, well then, that’s your own fault.”
“Fine,” he says.
Her name, as I have told you, was Jennifer. Jennifer Widmore. She was head cheerleader and vice president of the student government. And she was dating me.
“Yeah I know that,” Danny says bluntly.
“Hey, she was the head cheerleader, and I was dating her! I mean, are you dating the head cheerleader?”
“No…”
“Then let me tell my story. Anyway…”
Homecoming was approaching fast, and we’d already decided to go together. To make a long story short, we won Homecoming King and Queen. But that wasn’t the big news kids talked about at their lockers the next day.
Later that night, I decided to drop Jennifer off at her house. However, she invited me in and we talked for the longest time. I found out her parents were on a trip to Las Vegas. So we were in the house, all alone. One thing led to another, and we were making out, right on her parents’ sofa. Then, after she takes her tongue out of my mouth, she starts unbuttoning my shirt…
“Ew. I don’t need to know all the details of how you had sex,” Danny interrupts.
“You asked for it.”
“No, I thought I was asking for everything leading up to it.”
“Fine. I’ll jump after it.”
So as you already know, we did not use contraceptives. Of course we knew about them, but we figured a few things. We’d probably not get pregnant in the first place and even if we did, we loved each other so much we thought we could handle it.
“Wait. You guys had been going out for a few months and had already talked about kids?” Danny interrupts.
“Let me tell you this Danny. Our first four months were the greatest four months in the history of all relationships. I had already told her I love her by the first day of senior year.”
“Wow. So, is there more?”
“Yep. Anyway…”
I drove home and went to bed. I drove to Jennifer’s house to drive her to school the next day as I always did and as she came out she told me, “Hey, Mike, can you me to Bartell’s on the way to school? There’s just something I want to get.”
“Okay, sure,” I say. So I drive there and let her out. A minute later she emerges with a small bag.
“What did you get?” I ask her.
“Nothing, never mind,” she says.
Over the course of the four months of knowing her, I knew I shouldn’t ask anymore, so I didn’t. I assumed possibly it could be a birthday present for me, but my birthday wasn’t for a few months.
“When is your birthday by the way?” Danny asks.
“January 17, 1972.” I respond.
Anyway, we got to school, and we said our goodbyes as we had different first periods. We met after first period and as I walked up to her she had a glum look on her face. Even when I went to kiss her, she didn’t kiss back.
“What’s up?”
“I’m pregnant.”
My jaw dropped. I could not believe it, me, a father?
To make a long story short, that’s all I thought of that day. And since she told her friend who told her friend and so on, the whole school knew. Our classmates found out, our teachers found out, and then of course, our parents found out.
“Wow,” Danny says. “So, what about the adoption process? How’d you guys end up picking my parents?”
“That Danny, is for another time,” I say. “We’re wasting valuable practice time, now come on, let me show you the basics.”
Tuesday, June 17, 2008
One Two Punch - Chapter Four: "After School Special"
Just finished... Danny and Mike meet after school and talk about a few things.
Chapter Four: “After School Special”
As I was traveling home, I realized I completely forgot to tell Danny about the father-son tournament. Oh well, I see him in class every day.
So the following Monday as I’m dismissing class I decide to ask if Danny can meet me after school. “Danny, if I could have a word, please?” I ask him.
He hears my voice and says “Yeah, sure, what’s up?”
“I know you must be still all freaked out, but I never got to say thank you for not telling your dad I’m your father. That would have been a little awkward and frankly, now is not the right time,” I tell him.
“Yeah, no problem. It’s just weird, my dad is my history teacher. I’ve been meaning to ask you, who’s my mother? Is she also a teacher here?” he asks.
“No, no,” I tell him. “I think we need a long talk together. How about since you have to get to your next class, you meet me at three o’clock after school here in this room?”
“OK, that’s perfect, I don’t have any clubs today.”
“Great, see you then, Danny.” He leaves for his next class while I prepare for my next.
All while teaching my next classes I am distracted by what I am going to tell Danny. How much should I tell him? Before I know it, the sixth and final period bell has rung, signaling the end of the day. Danny shows up early, not to my surprise.
“Hey Danny. Why don’t you take a seat in the front there?” I ask him. He obliges. “I know you must be bustling with questions but I have one for you too. Just one, though. But to be fair, I’ll let you ask yours first.”
“Who is my mother? What is she like?” he asks.
“Her name as I knew her was Jennifer Widmore. She was very pretty and she was captain of the cheerleading team… at this school, by the way,” I tell Danny. What a small world we live in.
“Really? So both my parents went here?”
“Yep. In fact she and I dated in senior year and got pregnant with you. We foolishly did not use a condom.”
“I thought you must’ve been young to have had me,” he comes up with.
“Yep, in fact I was your age. But we had to put you up for adoption, because we couldn’t afford you. In fact, your mother becoming pregnant is kind of the reason we broke up. I kind of ditched her after I learned she was pregnant.”
“What? How could you do that? That’s horrible,” Danny tells me. What am I, five years old?
“What can I say? I was eighteen and stupid and scared. But I will say this, it’s the dumbest thing I’ve ever done in my life, by far. Anyway, since I wasn’t involved in the adoption process, I didn’t know who your parents would be,” I say.
“Oh. So why do you need to speak to me?”
Shoot! What did I need to speak to him about? Oh right! “Oh right! Er… listen, Danny. The reason I contacted you is because I’m having a bit of trouble—financially.”
“So, what, you want me to give you money?” he asks. No, Einstein, I want you to steal money for me.
“No, no I wouldn’t want you to do that. While I was leaving school one day I noticed a flyer put up—maybe you’ve seen it—it’s for a father-son basketball tournament, and the winning team gets $25,000,” I say as I hand him the flyer.
“Wow. So you want me to compete in it with you,” he says. How slow is this kid?
“Yes.”
“But I can’t, I mean I don’t play sports,” Danny replies. “I’m probably not very good, either.”
“Danny, listen to me. There’s a reason I coach the boys basketball team here,” I tell him.
“You do?”
“Yeah. Um, only a few of the teachers and Principle Wexler know this… I played college basketball at USC and I was pretty good,” I say.
“So why aren’t you playing professionally?”
“Because I had a severe knee injury that sidelined me for pretty much my career. I’ve had four surgeries on it. But it’s ok now. Of course, I’m a little old for the NBA now, especially for someone with no experience.”
“Ok.”
“So what do you say Danny? I’m a great teacher of basketball. The kids on our basketball team would be terrible if it weren’t for me. Well, maybe not terrible, but you know what I mean.”
“What’s in this for me?” he asks.
“Well, since I only need $20,000, you would get the extra $5,000.”
“Yeah, if we win,” he reminds me.
“So does that mean you’re in?”
Danny sighs, and it looks like he’s thinking about it. Finally, he says, “Yeah.”
Yes! “Great! I’ll just need your birth certificate; your dad has it,” I say.
“I don’t think he’ll approve of this,” he worries.
“So, sneak it out, do what you have to do. When you’re playing in the tournament, tell him you have some Foreign Language club or something to go to,” I tell Danny.
“All right, fine, but I hate lying to my dad. I’m only doing this because I need that extra bit of money for college,” Danny says.
“Great Danny, thanks,” I say, finally relieved.
“So is that all?” he asks me.
“Yep, pretty much. Oh, except for… if you’re going to compete in this tournament with me, you’re going to need some practice. How about this Saturday, you and me, at the gym here at school?”
“Sounds great, I’ll see you then… Dad,” Danny says.
“Hang on, before you go, quick question. What college are you planning on going to?” I ask him.
“Well, I first considered Stanford, but that’s a little ways away, so I’m leaning towards USC, actually.”
“That’s great, Danny. It’s a great school, you’ll love it.” He leaves.
Chapter Four: “After School Special”
As I was traveling home, I realized I completely forgot to tell Danny about the father-son tournament. Oh well, I see him in class every day.
So the following Monday as I’m dismissing class I decide to ask if Danny can meet me after school. “Danny, if I could have a word, please?” I ask him.
He hears my voice and says “Yeah, sure, what’s up?”
“I know you must be still all freaked out, but I never got to say thank you for not telling your dad I’m your father. That would have been a little awkward and frankly, now is not the right time,” I tell him.
“Yeah, no problem. It’s just weird, my dad is my history teacher. I’ve been meaning to ask you, who’s my mother? Is she also a teacher here?” he asks.
“No, no,” I tell him. “I think we need a long talk together. How about since you have to get to your next class, you meet me at three o’clock after school here in this room?”
“OK, that’s perfect, I don’t have any clubs today.”
“Great, see you then, Danny.” He leaves for his next class while I prepare for my next.
All while teaching my next classes I am distracted by what I am going to tell Danny. How much should I tell him? Before I know it, the sixth and final period bell has rung, signaling the end of the day. Danny shows up early, not to my surprise.
“Hey Danny. Why don’t you take a seat in the front there?” I ask him. He obliges. “I know you must be bustling with questions but I have one for you too. Just one, though. But to be fair, I’ll let you ask yours first.”
“Who is my mother? What is she like?” he asks.
“Her name as I knew her was Jennifer Widmore. She was very pretty and she was captain of the cheerleading team… at this school, by the way,” I tell Danny. What a small world we live in.
“Really? So both my parents went here?”
“Yep. In fact she and I dated in senior year and got pregnant with you. We foolishly did not use a condom.”
“I thought you must’ve been young to have had me,” he comes up with.
“Yep, in fact I was your age. But we had to put you up for adoption, because we couldn’t afford you. In fact, your mother becoming pregnant is kind of the reason we broke up. I kind of ditched her after I learned she was pregnant.”
“What? How could you do that? That’s horrible,” Danny tells me. What am I, five years old?
“What can I say? I was eighteen and stupid and scared. But I will say this, it’s the dumbest thing I’ve ever done in my life, by far. Anyway, since I wasn’t involved in the adoption process, I didn’t know who your parents would be,” I say.
“Oh. So why do you need to speak to me?”
Shoot! What did I need to speak to him about? Oh right! “Oh right! Er… listen, Danny. The reason I contacted you is because I’m having a bit of trouble—financially.”
“So, what, you want me to give you money?” he asks. No, Einstein, I want you to steal money for me.
“No, no I wouldn’t want you to do that. While I was leaving school one day I noticed a flyer put up—maybe you’ve seen it—it’s for a father-son basketball tournament, and the winning team gets $25,000,” I say as I hand him the flyer.
“Wow. So you want me to compete in it with you,” he says. How slow is this kid?
“Yes.”
“But I can’t, I mean I don’t play sports,” Danny replies. “I’m probably not very good, either.”
“Danny, listen to me. There’s a reason I coach the boys basketball team here,” I tell him.
“You do?”
“Yeah. Um, only a few of the teachers and Principle Wexler know this… I played college basketball at USC and I was pretty good,” I say.
“So why aren’t you playing professionally?”
“Because I had a severe knee injury that sidelined me for pretty much my career. I’ve had four surgeries on it. But it’s ok now. Of course, I’m a little old for the NBA now, especially for someone with no experience.”
“Ok.”
“So what do you say Danny? I’m a great teacher of basketball. The kids on our basketball team would be terrible if it weren’t for me. Well, maybe not terrible, but you know what I mean.”
“What’s in this for me?” he asks.
“Well, since I only need $20,000, you would get the extra $5,000.”
“Yeah, if we win,” he reminds me.
“So does that mean you’re in?”
Danny sighs, and it looks like he’s thinking about it. Finally, he says, “Yeah.”
Yes! “Great! I’ll just need your birth certificate; your dad has it,” I say.
“I don’t think he’ll approve of this,” he worries.
“So, sneak it out, do what you have to do. When you’re playing in the tournament, tell him you have some Foreign Language club or something to go to,” I tell Danny.
“All right, fine, but I hate lying to my dad. I’m only doing this because I need that extra bit of money for college,” Danny says.
“Great Danny, thanks,” I say, finally relieved.
“So is that all?” he asks me.
“Yep, pretty much. Oh, except for… if you’re going to compete in this tournament with me, you’re going to need some practice. How about this Saturday, you and me, at the gym here at school?”
“Sounds great, I’ll see you then… Dad,” Danny says.
“Hang on, before you go, quick question. What college are you planning on going to?” I ask him.
“Well, I first considered Stanford, but that’s a little ways away, so I’m leaning towards USC, actually.”
“That’s great, Danny. It’s a great school, you’ll love it.” He leaves.
Sunday, June 15, 2008
One Two Punch - Chapter Three: "Student-Teacher Conference"
Sorry it took so long, but this is the longest chapter in the story.
Chapter Three: “Student-Teacher Conference”
The Saturday after my phone calls to Tina and Jennifer, I decide to find if these people who have my son still live at that address Jennifer gave me. I find it relatively easy and park on their driveway. What if it’s the wrong house?
I ring their doorbell and wait. The door opens to reveal a man with graying hair, much shorter than myself, with glasses and a sweater vest on.
“May I help you?” he asks.
“Yes, I’m looking for…” I pause as I realize I don’t know the boys name. “…your son?” I guess.
“My son? Who are you?” he asks.
“I am a teacher at Lakeview High School.” Better that than “I’m the real father to your son!”
“Oh! Are you one of Danny’s teachers?”
“Yes, yes I am.” I’m probably following right into a lie-trap.
“Which one?”
Seeing as my last name’s unique, I go with my subject instead. “His history teacher,” I reply.
“Oh, so you’re Mr. Hollins?”
My jaw drops. How does this guy know my name? Wait, I’m actually this man’s son’s teacher? This can’t be right. “Yes, I am Mr. Hollins. I’m Mike Hollins.” I shake hands with him. “I need to talk with him about his grade.” On the weekend?
“Oh, well please, come in.” I step into their entry-way and look around at their very nice house. “I’m Lloyd Anderson, Danny’s father. Danny, come here, someone here to see you!” he shouts up the stairs.
Danny comes down the hall and appears at the top of the stairs. They must have moved in here. No way am I my own student’s father. “Mr. Hollins, what are you doing here?” he asks me.
“Well, Danny, I am just here to talk with you about your grade.”
“Why, is something wrong?” he asks with concern.
“No, not at all, we just need to clarify a few things.”
“Why don’t you have anything with you?” he asks. Why couldn’t I have at least brought a notebook?
“Because, er… everything is online! You know technology…” I am amazed at my brilliance to come up with this. “Can we go on your computer, Danny?” I ask him.
“Sure, I guess. It just seems weird for a teacher to go on my computer. I mean, couldn’t you have talked to me at school?”
“Well, with all your clubs and activities you have…” I reply.
“Oh, well, okay.”
We head up to his room, with Danny’s suddenly quiet father following. As we get in, he enters as well. I don’t want to do this in front of him.
“I’d actually rather talk to Danny alone, if I could,” I tell him.
“Oh, ok. You be good, son,” he says. He steps out and shuts the door behind him.
“So, what do you want me to do on my computer?” Danny asks me.
“Listen, this isn’t about your grade,” I tell him. Better not beat around the bush.
“Well then, what is it about?” he asks me.
“I need to ask you something. I need an honest answer.” He looks at me with a puzzled look on his face. “How long have you lived here?” I ask.
“My whole life. My parents moved in here right before I was born,” he says.
I guess I’m really his father! Now that I think about it, he does look a bit like me. He’s kind of tall like me, his hair’s the same, but he has his mother’s eyes. And as I think about it, his mother’s intelligence, too.
“Ok…” I say. How do I tell this kid I am his father? What if he doesn’t believe me? “I guess there’s no other way to say this but…. I’m your father.” I finish.
“What?” Danny asks. He has a very suspicious look on his face. “Who put you up to this? Was it my friend Tyler?” he asks.
“No, I am here on my own accord.”
“You must be joking. I already have a father. You met him!” he says as the panic starts to rise in his voice.
“He is your adoptive father. I’m your real or birth father,” I tell him.
“Wait, are you serious? I mean DEAD serious?” he asks me. I guess this kid wants his facts straight.
“Yes!” I exclaim, getting a little impatient.
“OK, you look me in the eye and without blinking, say the truth,” he dares me.
I move a little closer to Danny and trying really hard not to blink, say, “Danny, I am your father.”
“Oh my god. Wait, if you’re my father, then why haven’t you said anything to me all year? I mean, you are my history teacher,” Danny says.
“I just found out too. I knew I had a son, somewhere, but I didn’t know it was you,” I reply.
“Hang on, let me ask my dad,” he says as he gets up to leave.
I grab him to stop him from leaving and say, “No-no-no-no-no-no-no. I don’t want him to know I’m your father.”
“Why not?” Danny asks me.
“Because, we had a closed adoption and if your dad found out I, your real father, was here, I would be violating it. Which means he could press legal action against me. I mean… you don’t want your teacher to go to jail, do you?” I ask. Then I rethink it. “Don’t answer that,” I say as Danny opens his mouth.
“How about if I just ask him if I’m adopted?”
I ponder this for a while. Sure the dad will get mad at me, but not because I’m violating the closed adoption. “Okay, but you have to say your father is someone else, ok?”
“OK. I just want to make sure you’re telling the truth,” Danny says.
“I am!” I say.
“We’ll see.”
We go out into the living room where Danny’s father is watching television. He hears us coming and turns around and says, “Hey, sport, everything all right?”
“Yeah. Can I ask you a question, though?” Danny asks.
“Sure,” his dad replies.
“Am I adopted?”
Danny’s father, Lloyd, gets up from the couch and looks at his son, and then me. In a serious voice he then says “Now where would you get that idea?”
“I’ve just been wondering. I mean, I’ve looked at me, and I’ve looked at you and mom, and I just don’t see many similarities,” Danny replies.
“Excuse us, Mr. Hollins, I’d like a moment with my son, please,” Lloyd tells me.
“Sure, no problem. I have to go to the bathroom anyway. Where is it?” I ask.
“Down the hall, first door on the right,” he says.
“Gotcha. Thanks.” I tell him. I walk to their bathroom and shut the door. Truth be told, I made up the fact that I had to go the bathroom. I just press my ear up against the door and try to hear their conversation, but I can only hear bits and pieces.
“I haven’t? I thought I have,” I hear Danny say. He hasn’t what?
“…Does it have to do with Mr. Hollins?” I hear his father say.
I take my head away from the door and wonder what Danny is going to say. I realize I don’t want to hear his answer. Next thing I know, I hear the word “bastard!” from the living room. I hear Lloyd coming so I open the door and there he stands, as tall as he possibly can, right in front of me.
“How dare you tell my son he’s adopted!” he yells at me.
“With all due respect, sir, but who goes eighteen years without telling their kid he’s adopted?” I reply.
“I felt there was no reason to! Things were going along fine, and now you come along, and mess everything up! There was no reason for Danny to know!”
“I am very sorry, sir. I had no idea it would upset you this much. I thought Danny already knew,” I come up with.
“Yeah, he did think I already knew,” Danny adds.
Danny’s father calms down, and says, “Well, I guess I should’ve known it wouldn’t have lasted forever.”
“If you don’t mind me asking, sir, where’s your wife?”
“She doesn’t live here anymore. She and I divorced five years ago,” Lloyd replies.
“I am so sorry. Listen, I gotta go. Nice meeting you, Mr. Anderson,” I say.
“Yeah, sure,” he replies.
“Danny, I’ll see you in class on Monday.”
“Yeah.”
Chapter Three: “Student-Teacher Conference”
The Saturday after my phone calls to Tina and Jennifer, I decide to find if these people who have my son still live at that address Jennifer gave me. I find it relatively easy and park on their driveway. What if it’s the wrong house?
I ring their doorbell and wait. The door opens to reveal a man with graying hair, much shorter than myself, with glasses and a sweater vest on.
“May I help you?” he asks.
“Yes, I’m looking for…” I pause as I realize I don’t know the boys name. “…your son?” I guess.
“My son? Who are you?” he asks.
“I am a teacher at Lakeview High School.” Better that than “I’m the real father to your son!”
“Oh! Are you one of Danny’s teachers?”
“Yes, yes I am.” I’m probably following right into a lie-trap.
“Which one?”
Seeing as my last name’s unique, I go with my subject instead. “His history teacher,” I reply.
“Oh, so you’re Mr. Hollins?”
My jaw drops. How does this guy know my name? Wait, I’m actually this man’s son’s teacher? This can’t be right. “Yes, I am Mr. Hollins. I’m Mike Hollins.” I shake hands with him. “I need to talk with him about his grade.” On the weekend?
“Oh, well please, come in.” I step into their entry-way and look around at their very nice house. “I’m Lloyd Anderson, Danny’s father. Danny, come here, someone here to see you!” he shouts up the stairs.
Danny comes down the hall and appears at the top of the stairs. They must have moved in here. No way am I my own student’s father. “Mr. Hollins, what are you doing here?” he asks me.
“Well, Danny, I am just here to talk with you about your grade.”
“Why, is something wrong?” he asks with concern.
“No, not at all, we just need to clarify a few things.”
“Why don’t you have anything with you?” he asks. Why couldn’t I have at least brought a notebook?
“Because, er… everything is online! You know technology…” I am amazed at my brilliance to come up with this. “Can we go on your computer, Danny?” I ask him.
“Sure, I guess. It just seems weird for a teacher to go on my computer. I mean, couldn’t you have talked to me at school?”
“Well, with all your clubs and activities you have…” I reply.
“Oh, well, okay.”
We head up to his room, with Danny’s suddenly quiet father following. As we get in, he enters as well. I don’t want to do this in front of him.
“I’d actually rather talk to Danny alone, if I could,” I tell him.
“Oh, ok. You be good, son,” he says. He steps out and shuts the door behind him.
“So, what do you want me to do on my computer?” Danny asks me.
“Listen, this isn’t about your grade,” I tell him. Better not beat around the bush.
“Well then, what is it about?” he asks me.
“I need to ask you something. I need an honest answer.” He looks at me with a puzzled look on his face. “How long have you lived here?” I ask.
“My whole life. My parents moved in here right before I was born,” he says.
I guess I’m really his father! Now that I think about it, he does look a bit like me. He’s kind of tall like me, his hair’s the same, but he has his mother’s eyes. And as I think about it, his mother’s intelligence, too.
“Ok…” I say. How do I tell this kid I am his father? What if he doesn’t believe me? “I guess there’s no other way to say this but…. I’m your father.” I finish.
“What?” Danny asks. He has a very suspicious look on his face. “Who put you up to this? Was it my friend Tyler?” he asks.
“No, I am here on my own accord.”
“You must be joking. I already have a father. You met him!” he says as the panic starts to rise in his voice.
“He is your adoptive father. I’m your real or birth father,” I tell him.
“Wait, are you serious? I mean DEAD serious?” he asks me. I guess this kid wants his facts straight.
“Yes!” I exclaim, getting a little impatient.
“OK, you look me in the eye and without blinking, say the truth,” he dares me.
I move a little closer to Danny and trying really hard not to blink, say, “Danny, I am your father.”
“Oh my god. Wait, if you’re my father, then why haven’t you said anything to me all year? I mean, you are my history teacher,” Danny says.
“I just found out too. I knew I had a son, somewhere, but I didn’t know it was you,” I reply.
“Hang on, let me ask my dad,” he says as he gets up to leave.
I grab him to stop him from leaving and say, “No-no-no-no-no-no-no. I don’t want him to know I’m your father.”
“Why not?” Danny asks me.
“Because, we had a closed adoption and if your dad found out I, your real father, was here, I would be violating it. Which means he could press legal action against me. I mean… you don’t want your teacher to go to jail, do you?” I ask. Then I rethink it. “Don’t answer that,” I say as Danny opens his mouth.
“How about if I just ask him if I’m adopted?”
I ponder this for a while. Sure the dad will get mad at me, but not because I’m violating the closed adoption. “Okay, but you have to say your father is someone else, ok?”
“OK. I just want to make sure you’re telling the truth,” Danny says.
“I am!” I say.
“We’ll see.”
We go out into the living room where Danny’s father is watching television. He hears us coming and turns around and says, “Hey, sport, everything all right?”
“Yeah. Can I ask you a question, though?” Danny asks.
“Sure,” his dad replies.
“Am I adopted?”
Danny’s father, Lloyd, gets up from the couch and looks at his son, and then me. In a serious voice he then says “Now where would you get that idea?”
“I’ve just been wondering. I mean, I’ve looked at me, and I’ve looked at you and mom, and I just don’t see many similarities,” Danny replies.
“Excuse us, Mr. Hollins, I’d like a moment with my son, please,” Lloyd tells me.
“Sure, no problem. I have to go to the bathroom anyway. Where is it?” I ask.
“Down the hall, first door on the right,” he says.
“Gotcha. Thanks.” I tell him. I walk to their bathroom and shut the door. Truth be told, I made up the fact that I had to go the bathroom. I just press my ear up against the door and try to hear their conversation, but I can only hear bits and pieces.
“I haven’t? I thought I have,” I hear Danny say. He hasn’t what?
“…Does it have to do with Mr. Hollins?” I hear his father say.
I take my head away from the door and wonder what Danny is going to say. I realize I don’t want to hear his answer. Next thing I know, I hear the word “bastard!” from the living room. I hear Lloyd coming so I open the door and there he stands, as tall as he possibly can, right in front of me.
“How dare you tell my son he’s adopted!” he yells at me.
“With all due respect, sir, but who goes eighteen years without telling their kid he’s adopted?” I reply.
“I felt there was no reason to! Things were going along fine, and now you come along, and mess everything up! There was no reason for Danny to know!”
“I am very sorry, sir. I had no idea it would upset you this much. I thought Danny already knew,” I come up with.
“Yeah, he did think I already knew,” Danny adds.
Danny’s father calms down, and says, “Well, I guess I should’ve known it wouldn’t have lasted forever.”
“If you don’t mind me asking, sir, where’s your wife?”
“She doesn’t live here anymore. She and I divorced five years ago,” Lloyd replies.
“I am so sorry. Listen, I gotta go. Nice meeting you, Mr. Anderson,” I say.
“Yeah, sure,” he replies.
“Danny, I’ll see you in class on Monday.”
“Yeah.”
Wednesday, June 11, 2008
One Two Punch - Chapter Two: "The Bulletin"
Here it is:
Chapter Two: “The Bulletin”
Heading to work or school as some of my colleagues say, I kept worrying about my debts. I teach history at our school, mainly to Juniors and Seniors. Everything went by fine, I handed my students back their essays, gave a few lectures, the usual. As I go by the bulletin board outside my classroom on my way to lunch, I notice a new bulletin put up in bright orange paper.
I take a look and see that there is going to be a father-son two on two tournament taking place over the next month. I find it somewhat interesting, but nothing interests me more than what I read at the bottom line: “Winning team receives $25,000”. My jaw drops. If only I had a son! Then an idea struck me.
As soon as I get home that evening after school, I go to my closet and pull out an old phone book. I pull it down, looking for the name “Jennifer Widmore”. I fail to find one. I however find a few “J Widmore’s” so I try them, but none of them turn out to be Jennifer’s.
About to give up, I come up with another plan. I then look up the name “Tina Miller” in the phone book and find it. I call it.
“Hello?” the answerer says.
“Hi, is this Tina Miller?” I ask.
“Yes, who is this?” Tina replies.
“This is Mike Hollins, from Lakeview High, do you remember me? I was Jennifer’s boyfriend.”
She laughs. “Oh yeah, Mike. Why are you calling?”
“Well I couldn’t find Jennifer in the phone book and I really need to contact her. Do you happen to know her phone number?” I ask hesitantly.
“Well I don’t know her number but I do know why you can’t find her in the phone book. It’s because she got married and changed her last name.”
A part of me stirs inside, the part of me that hates to see the Trojans lose. “Oh, do you know what it is?” I ask.
“Yeah she married some guy named Paul Carey. They got married five years ago, I was invited to their wedding.”
It stirs even harder. “Well I wasn’t!” I pause, realizing I was being somewhat rude. “Sorry, Tina. Thank you for the information.”
I say goodbye to her and hang up. Well, time to call her. I look up “Jennifer Carey” in the phonebook, and I manage to find a “Paul and Jennifer Carey”. How cute.
I dial their number and after a few rings I get an answer.
“Hello?” the answerer says.
“Hi, is Jennifer there?” I ask.
“This is her.”
“Hey, Jennifer, this is Mike from High School, how are you?” I ask. Just trying to break the ice.
“Mike? What the hell are you doing?”
“I need to talk to you,” I answer. Boy is she mad, but I gotta do this.
“You left me while I was pregnant!” she responds. Boy, women can be mean.
“Yes, I’m sorry, I truly am. I know it’s been a while but I thought maybe you had gotten over it.” Wrong thing to say.
“Gotten over it?! I haven’t even…! She pauses, then in a whisper, “I haven’t even told my husband I have a son yet!”
“Again, I’m sorry,” I respond. What else is there to say?
“Alright, Mike, what do you want?”
“I need to know where our son is.”
“What? Why?”
“To make a long story short, I need a lot of money really soon and if I could meet with him he could really help me out with that.” The words didn’t even sound good coming out of my mouth.
“I’m sorry, Mike, but remember, we made it a closed adoption. We can’t contact him in any way.”
“But do you know where he and his family live?” I ask.
“I don’t know where they live now, but I do know where they lived when they adopted him. Their address is 13023 NE 78th St. Lakeview. Don’t tell them I gave it to you.”
Bingo. I write the address down on a sticky I have nearby. “I won’t. Thank you so much, Jen.”
“Jen? You haven’t called me that since high school.”
“Well, I haven’t done a lot of things with you since high school,” I reply.
“True. If you don’t mind me asking, how did you get my number?”
“Er… I looked it up in the phone book, actually I had to call your high school friend Tina first to find out you got married and changed your name.”
“Oh, okay. Well, goodbye Mike.”
“Bye.” I hang up. Well, if I’m going to go through with this, I might as well do it as soon as I can, which would be this weekend.
Chapter Two: “The Bulletin”
Heading to work or school as some of my colleagues say, I kept worrying about my debts. I teach history at our school, mainly to Juniors and Seniors. Everything went by fine, I handed my students back their essays, gave a few lectures, the usual. As I go by the bulletin board outside my classroom on my way to lunch, I notice a new bulletin put up in bright orange paper.
I take a look and see that there is going to be a father-son two on two tournament taking place over the next month. I find it somewhat interesting, but nothing interests me more than what I read at the bottom line: “Winning team receives $25,000”. My jaw drops. If only I had a son! Then an idea struck me.
As soon as I get home that evening after school, I go to my closet and pull out an old phone book. I pull it down, looking for the name “Jennifer Widmore”. I fail to find one. I however find a few “J Widmore’s” so I try them, but none of them turn out to be Jennifer’s.
About to give up, I come up with another plan. I then look up the name “Tina Miller” in the phone book and find it. I call it.
“Hello?” the answerer says.
“Hi, is this Tina Miller?” I ask.
“Yes, who is this?” Tina replies.
“This is Mike Hollins, from Lakeview High, do you remember me? I was Jennifer’s boyfriend.”
She laughs. “Oh yeah, Mike. Why are you calling?”
“Well I couldn’t find Jennifer in the phone book and I really need to contact her. Do you happen to know her phone number?” I ask hesitantly.
“Well I don’t know her number but I do know why you can’t find her in the phone book. It’s because she got married and changed her last name.”
A part of me stirs inside, the part of me that hates to see the Trojans lose. “Oh, do you know what it is?” I ask.
“Yeah she married some guy named Paul Carey. They got married five years ago, I was invited to their wedding.”
It stirs even harder. “Well I wasn’t!” I pause, realizing I was being somewhat rude. “Sorry, Tina. Thank you for the information.”
I say goodbye to her and hang up. Well, time to call her. I look up “Jennifer Carey” in the phonebook, and I manage to find a “Paul and Jennifer Carey”. How cute.
I dial their number and after a few rings I get an answer.
“Hello?” the answerer says.
“Hi, is Jennifer there?” I ask.
“This is her.”
“Hey, Jennifer, this is Mike from High School, how are you?” I ask. Just trying to break the ice.
“Mike? What the hell are you doing?”
“I need to talk to you,” I answer. Boy is she mad, but I gotta do this.
“You left me while I was pregnant!” she responds. Boy, women can be mean.
“Yes, I’m sorry, I truly am. I know it’s been a while but I thought maybe you had gotten over it.” Wrong thing to say.
“Gotten over it?! I haven’t even…! She pauses, then in a whisper, “I haven’t even told my husband I have a son yet!”
“Again, I’m sorry,” I respond. What else is there to say?
“Alright, Mike, what do you want?”
“I need to know where our son is.”
“What? Why?”
“To make a long story short, I need a lot of money really soon and if I could meet with him he could really help me out with that.” The words didn’t even sound good coming out of my mouth.
“I’m sorry, Mike, but remember, we made it a closed adoption. We can’t contact him in any way.”
“But do you know where he and his family live?” I ask.
“I don’t know where they live now, but I do know where they lived when they adopted him. Their address is 13023 NE 78th St. Lakeview. Don’t tell them I gave it to you.”
Bingo. I write the address down on a sticky I have nearby. “I won’t. Thank you so much, Jen.”
“Jen? You haven’t called me that since high school.”
“Well, I haven’t done a lot of things with you since high school,” I reply.
“True. If you don’t mind me asking, how did you get my number?”
“Er… I looked it up in the phone book, actually I had to call your high school friend Tina first to find out you got married and changed your name.”
“Oh, okay. Well, goodbye Mike.”
“Bye.” I hang up. Well, if I’m going to go through with this, I might as well do it as soon as I can, which would be this weekend.
Monday, June 9, 2008
One Two Punch - Chapter One: "In Debt"
Here is the promised first chapter of One Two Punch entitlted "In Debt." Just to let you know... the italicized parts are the main character's thoughts. Enjoy!
Chapter One: “In Debt”
Waking up on a cool, October Saturday morning, I wipe the sleep out of my eyes. Finally, the weekend. I look out my apartment window, gazing at the street. I wonder what to do today. As a 36 year old school teacher, on Saturdays there isn’t much to do except grade papers, especially if you don’t have a spouse or girlfriend/boyfriend. There’s nothing wrong with being single; I had just gotten out of a serious relationship. It feels like a new freedom to me, since I have so much more time on my hands.
After my routine breakfast and shower, I decide I better start grading the essays I had my students turn in yesterday. They were essays on World War II and what caused it. I turn on my old 32-inch television set to a random college basketball game, which turns out to be UCLA vs. Texas A&M. Stinking UCLA, with their ugly baby blue uniforms. If you haven’t figured it out, I’m a USC Spartan at heart. I bleed crimson red and gold. I went there on a basketball scholarship from the high school where I currently teach, Lakeview High. I’d have turned pro if it wasn’t for the MCL tear I had in my senior year. I was undrafted but signed by the Atlanta Hawks as a rookie free agent; however, my knee kept reinjuring itself, forcing me to quit basketball.
Grading the essays took me all the way to the afternoon. I go to receive my mail, and I receive quite a shock. My Visa bill is gigantic. I forgot I had just bought a new bed and mattress as well as some new clothes with it, and that on top of the notice from my superintendent bothered me. My super is nice; he lets me pay him a month’s rent almost whenever I want to, but I had so many months piled up now that it was starting to get a little hot under the collar.
I calculate the total from the Visa bill and all the month’s rent that I had missed, and I get almost $20,000. Yikes! How could this have happened? I spend the rest of the weekend worrying what I am going to do about it. My super in his notice had said he was fed up in waiting for me and needed the money by the end of this current month. How am I going to come up with $20,000 in just one month? Teachers certainly don’t make that much, and as for my savings, well it’s pretty much nothing.
I fling the bill and notice on my table and stare at them. How on earth am I going to pay for them? Hopefully, some opportunity will arise soon where I can make a lot of money and fast.
Chapter One: “In Debt”
Waking up on a cool, October Saturday morning, I wipe the sleep out of my eyes. Finally, the weekend. I look out my apartment window, gazing at the street. I wonder what to do today. As a 36 year old school teacher, on Saturdays there isn’t much to do except grade papers, especially if you don’t have a spouse or girlfriend/boyfriend. There’s nothing wrong with being single; I had just gotten out of a serious relationship. It feels like a new freedom to me, since I have so much more time on my hands.
After my routine breakfast and shower, I decide I better start grading the essays I had my students turn in yesterday. They were essays on World War II and what caused it. I turn on my old 32-inch television set to a random college basketball game, which turns out to be UCLA vs. Texas A&M. Stinking UCLA, with their ugly baby blue uniforms. If you haven’t figured it out, I’m a USC Spartan at heart. I bleed crimson red and gold. I went there on a basketball scholarship from the high school where I currently teach, Lakeview High. I’d have turned pro if it wasn’t for the MCL tear I had in my senior year. I was undrafted but signed by the Atlanta Hawks as a rookie free agent; however, my knee kept reinjuring itself, forcing me to quit basketball.
Grading the essays took me all the way to the afternoon. I go to receive my mail, and I receive quite a shock. My Visa bill is gigantic. I forgot I had just bought a new bed and mattress as well as some new clothes with it, and that on top of the notice from my superintendent bothered me. My super is nice; he lets me pay him a month’s rent almost whenever I want to, but I had so many months piled up now that it was starting to get a little hot under the collar.
I calculate the total from the Visa bill and all the month’s rent that I had missed, and I get almost $20,000. Yikes! How could this have happened? I spend the rest of the weekend worrying what I am going to do about it. My super in his notice had said he was fed up in waiting for me and needed the money by the end of this current month. How am I going to come up with $20,000 in just one month? Teachers certainly don’t make that much, and as for my savings, well it’s pretty much nothing.
I fling the bill and notice on my table and stare at them. How on earth am I going to pay for them? Hopefully, some opportunity will arise soon where I can make a lot of money and fast.
Sunday, June 8, 2008
One Two Punch by Brian Holland (The Table of Contents)
Okay, this is the Table of Contents for a short story I am writing called "One Two Punch". It's about a man who tries to find his long lost son in order to win a basketball tournament to pay off some debts.
I will have the first (albeit short) chapter up soon.
Table of Contents:
Chapter One: “In Debt”
Chapter Two: “The Bulletin”
Chapter Three: “Student-Teacher Conference”
Chapter Four: “After School Special”
Chapter Five: “Flashbacks”
Chapter Six: “Practice, Practice, and More Practice”
Chapter Seven: “Catching Up”
Chapter Eight: “Trouble Signing In”
Chapter Nine: “The Fake ID”
Chapter Ten: “The Qualifiers”
Chapter Eleven: “A Pair of Surprises”
Chapter Twelve: “Piece of Cake”
Chapter Thirteen: “Final Four”
Chapter Fourteen: “David vs. Goliath”
Chapter Fifteen: “Stripped!”
Chapter Sixteen: “Post-Game”
Now these are not final and may change. Time will tell.
Edit: Chapter Eleven has been renamed from "The Seedings" to "A Pair of Surprises".
Also, while I'm at it, I will provide the cast of characters and who I think could play them if a movie were made on this (so you can have someone to picture when reading).
Mike Hollins - Kevin Durand/Joe Manganiello (has to be 6'5" or taller)
Danny Anderson - Michael Cera
Jennifer Widmore/Carey - Jenna Fischer
Lloyd Anderson - Gregory Jbara
Young Mike Hollins - Max Thieriot
Young Jennifer Widmore - Emma Roberts
JT/James Thomas - Paul Walker
I will have the first (albeit short) chapter up soon.
Table of Contents:
Chapter One: “In Debt”
Chapter Two: “The Bulletin”
Chapter Three: “Student-Teacher Conference”
Chapter Four: “After School Special”
Chapter Five: “Flashbacks”
Chapter Six: “Practice, Practice, and More Practice”
Chapter Seven: “Catching Up”
Chapter Eight: “Trouble Signing In”
Chapter Nine: “The Fake ID”
Chapter Ten: “The Qualifiers”
Chapter Eleven: “A Pair of Surprises”
Chapter Twelve: “Piece of Cake”
Chapter Thirteen: “Final Four”
Chapter Fourteen: “David vs. Goliath”
Chapter Fifteen: “Stripped!”
Chapter Sixteen: “Post-Game”
Now these are not final and may change. Time will tell.
Edit: Chapter Eleven has been renamed from "The Seedings" to "A Pair of Surprises".
Also, while I'm at it, I will provide the cast of characters and who I think could play them if a movie were made on this (so you can have someone to picture when reading).
Mike Hollins - Kevin Durand/Joe Manganiello (has to be 6'5" or taller)
Danny Anderson - Michael Cera
Jennifer Widmore/Carey - Jenna Fischer
Lloyd Anderson - Gregory Jbara
Young Mike Hollins - Max Thieriot
Young Jennifer Widmore - Emma Roberts
JT/James Thomas - Paul Walker
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