Read Advantage Disadvantage Online

Authors: Yale Jaffe

Tags: #basketball, #chicago, #corruption, #high school, #referee, #sports gambling, #sportswriter, #thriller, #whodunit

Advantage Disadvantage (18 page)

“Red, my friend. Your take could be around a cool
half a million bucks if all goes well.”

“All I can say is, viva the Advantage/Disadvantage
Plan,” he said as he raised his NeHi Grape can of soda to toast the
kickoff of their partnership.

Chapter Twenty-six. O Captain, My Captain

The Windy City Daily’s pre-season edition did not
sit well with Coach Venturi. He wanted his team to gain respect,
but East End did not even make the top twenty area teams. He was so
angry he called the newspaper and spoke to Frank Worrell.

“We deserve more respect that this,” said the
coach.

“You sure didn’t show it this summer. Under 500,
against some lousy teams,” replied Frank.

“We are going to surprise a lot of people this year.
Apparently you will be amongst them,” shouted Scott as he slammed
the phone down.

Frank knew Coach Venturi would not like being
overlooked in his Top Twenty, but if it motivated the team to do
better, then the Advantage/Disadvantage Plan with Bobby G. would be
even more successful. Frank felt a little guilty after speaking to
Venturi. He called the paper’s Editor In Chief, Nancy Kapist and
tried to vent a little bit.

“Nancy, this is Frank. I need to see you right away.
Let’s check out the stars tonight.”

“Frank, we can’t. My husband is in town,” she lied.
She was tired of Frank’s whining and childish intimacy needs.

“Being around you is the only thing that keeps me
going in this job!”

“It can’t be that bad, right?”

“I hate this frickin’ job; I’m just not going to do
it anymore,” he threatened.

“Hey, did I tell you how much Chairman Arthur loved
the pre-season pullout? He told us that it set an advertising
revenue record for any pullout section at Windy City ever. I will
be able to help you. Just be patient, hunny. Maybe we can look at
the stars next week when the big guy’s gone?”

“You’re just stringing me along. If you wanted to
help me professionally, you would have done so already.”

Frank finally had his epiphany and confirmed that
Nancy used their affair to keep him at the paper. She probably did
not have any romantic interest in him, he reasoned. Frank knew that
leaving her husband was completely out of the question.
Understanding the big picture, finally, he felt cheap and
manipulated. The redeeming feature was his anticipation in getting
money back in the Advantage/Disadvantage scheme with Bobby G.

On the eve of the start of the basketball season,
Jamal scheduled a meeting with Coach Venturi. Jamal knocked on the
Coach’s office door shortly after practice. Coach Venturi was
making copies of the Windy City Daily prep basketball poll to post
on the boys’ lockers for motivation. He showed a copy to Jamal.

“Do you believe we are not even in the Top
Twenty?”

“No, Coach. We are better than that.”

“Damn right, Jamal. I hope the entire team shares
that confidence.”

“We all do, yes sir.”

“Jamal, it’s your dime. You called this meeting. I
assume you are here as the Captain?”

“Yes, Coach. The team is in a great frame of mind.
We are ready for this year, but the players asked me talk to you
about something that’s bugging most of us.”

“So you are speaking for the team. Go ahead, Captain
Imari.”

“Well, since you arrived, our team is expected to
wear cotton shirts and ties during game days at school and on the
team bus to away games. I want to ask you if you are flexible about
this rule.”

Coach Venturi replied, “These team rules are in
place to bond the team beyond practice in front of the student
body, and to demand respect when we arrive at other schools”.

“Yes coach, we sort of get it. But it doesn’t
inspire most of East End’s students, and the players hate wearing
clothes their fathers would wear.”

“Jamal, let me ask you something. You know why I
have the rule in place; you know how important team unity is. If
you were me what would you do?”

“Coach, I offer this up respectfully. If I were you,
I would allow the team to wear during game days a t-shirt with our
team’s motto and colors. We would stand out with the student body,
but not look like old men. On the buses to away games, if I were
the Coach, I’d still require the team to wear shirts and ties.”

“Mr. Imari, Captain Imari. I am so impressed with
your approach. The team did right in selecting you to represent
them. You seem to have carefully considered all angles on this
policy and you offer an excellent solution and compromise. OK, I
will ask the booster club to order shirts for the team for game
days. Maybe your mom will help pick something out for the team.
However, for away games, it is ties on the buses. Do we have an
understanding?”

Jamal shook hands with his coach. When he left the
office, Coach Venturi marveled at Jamal’s maturity and approach. He
took great pleasure in having a part in Jamal’s development on and
off the court.

The coach sat back in his chair. He had two hours of
tape to review on the eve of the first game of the season. Scott
looked forward to the season as never before.

Chapter Twenty-seven. My Son’s Playing Time

Detective Battle came to see East End’s first game.
It was against a non-conference, north suburban school, Yates High.
Two years after arriving at East End, Coach Venturi began to
schedule easier teams in the pre-conference play. He enrolled his
team in easier Thanksgiving and Christmas week tournaments. Yates
High was an easy opponent for East End and the game was a romp from
the beginning. Venturi’s team put on a stifling full-court press
that reminded Detective Battle of his NAU approach. Jamal looked
great during the game, although he was wearing different shoes than
the team’s Voles. Coach Battle happily anticipated the renewal of
his royalty contract with Kerbe Shoes. He was also very proud of
Jamal, and happy that by earning his EPSU scholarship he showed
leadership to the youngsters that were on Battle’s current middle
school NAU teams.

Coach Venturi followed the unwritten sportsmanship
rule about pulling-off the full-court press after halftime.
Tradition allowed for anything in the first half – unlimited
pressing, running, scoring. However, if a team was spanking an
opponent without a realistic chance to win, the “gentleman’s”
tradition was to pull starters, liberally use the bench, and not
run up the score. Sometimes referees reminded a coach who was lost
in his intensity by saying, “I’m not telling you what to do, but do
you think it’s time to call off the dogs?”

Some referees actually enforced this unwritten
gentleman’s agreement by overlooking most fouls and violations by
the losing coach, and calling even the slightest touch fouls
against the team ahead. Usually, the coach would not respond right
away to the referee’s suggestion because they wanted to save face.
After one or two times up and down the court, most coaches would
respond by taking the pressure off. AD’s frowned on humiliating a
team by blowout and many athletic directors would admonish their
coaches for running-up the scores on opposing teams. There was some
honor in high school basketball coaching.

The East End High School team was racking up
victories: Yates, Ridgeland, Crandon, Constance and Essex. Bobby G.
was making a fortune. On all other games (not involving East End),
the gangs won eighty percent of the time because the betting lines
were fixed against the well-to-do homers. Bobby G. was happy to
earn the ten percent juice on those games without risk and allowed
the gangs to collect the rewards of betting against the homers.
However, on East End games, Bobby froze out the gang treasurers and
took all the action himself. He won every game because East End was
still underrated and not yet, a top twenty team in Frank’s
rankings.

Before one of the early season games, Jamal
approached the coach’s office when he heard a woman talking to
Venturi. Not wanting to interrupt, he sat on a chair in the hallway
outside the coach’s office. He could hear the entire
conversation.

“Coach, thanks for seeing me today on such short
notice” the woman said.

“No problem Mrs. Austin. Is Alex ok? What’s
wrong?”

“Yes, he’s fine. He’s enjoying being on the team,
and he is very excited about how the team is doing.”

“He’s a nice young man. I have enjoyed coaching him
for the last two years. I understand that he applied successfully
to the University of Illinois for next fall. I am proud of him – he
is a smart student, and he is a pleasure to coach. What can I do
for you?”

“I need to talk to you but you have to promise not
to tell Alex that I was here, OK?”

“This conversation is in confidence; I won’t let him
know that you were even here.”

“I wanted to talk to you about getting him into a
game.”

Stunned, he responded, “Mrs. Austin. I made it clear
to the team and to the parents that I would not discuss playing
time or other team issues with any parent unless the player met
with me first. I think that helps the player step up to handle
things properly and teaches them to address grievances in a mature
way. You know I won’t talk to you about this.”

“Just hear me out Coach. This is a little different.
Please,” Mrs. Austin begged.

“Ok, but I am really uncomfortable about having this
conversation.”

“I’ll be direct. Alex knows his place on the team.
He realizes that he has been out-competed by several players who
substitute-in before him. No problem. He loves being part of the
team – everything - the practices, the games, the pep rallies, his
teammates. He is under no illusions. He does what he can to
contribute and he has a positive attitude. Don’t you agree?”

“Very much so, Mrs. Austin.”

“OK, well Alex’s older brother has been his idol
since he was born. He worships his words and actions, and when his
brother joined the marines last year and went to Iraq, Alex’s pride
zoomed to new heights. His brother is home on furlough and wants to
attend the next home game against Clyde High School. He wants to
surprise Alex by coming to his game. If it is at all possible, and
I know I am asking for a lot, would it be possible for Alex to play
a little bit in the game so his brother can see him? It would mean
a lot to both of them.”

“Wow, you make a very compelling argument – you must
be very proud of both of these boys, uh, men! Nevertheless, Mrs.
Austin, I am reluctant to break team rules for any reason. I have
built this team based on fairness and I expect the boys to follow
my strict rules. In return, I need to be straight and fair to those
who have earned playing time. I need to think about your request,
but do not count on it. I wish I could commit to saying yes, but I
do not think it would be right - it is just not how I have set up
the rules. Let me see what I can do, and I really appreciate what
you are trying to do, but truthfully, don’t get your hopes up.”

“Coach, I kind of expected you to say no. Your
consistency and discipline with the team is what my husband and I
admire about you – in this case, your integrity just will not bend
for us. We really understand,” she said as began to leave Coach
Venturi’s office. “Thanks for your time, anyway.”

Jamal quickly moved away from outside the office and
stepped down the hallway about ten steps to pretend that he was
just arriving. He then slowly walked back and saw Coach Venturi
shaking hands with Mrs. Austin as she left his office. He heard the
entire conversation, but the Coach thought he had just arrived.

During that evening, Coach thought about the
conversation and it tugged at his heart. His team was unbeaten, and
he wanted to accommodate Mrs. Austin’s request but he was a
stickler for playing time decisions awarded on effort and skills.
In his pregame discussion, he told the boys that he was worried
about the quality of Clyde High School’s team. East End must put
enormous pressure in the first quarter to take the heart out of
Clyde by pressing and running up the score, he told them. This
would be the first real test of the season – the rest of the teams
that they had beaten were not as good as Clyde he warned them. He
really wanted a big win, but he was not sure what to do about Alex
Austin. He certainly would not risk a loss trying to slide him into
the game. During pregame warm-ups, Scott noticed Alex’s brother in
the stands, near the corridor to the locker room. He was dressed in
his full combat fatigues, the dull, desert-beige camouflage.

The starters lived-up to their responsibilities and
ran up the score in the first quarter but it was a sloppy quarter
with several East End players committing many unnecessary
fouls.

“Hey, come over here on the bench. Sit down next to
me. What’s with the stupid fouls?” he admonished one of the
starters after he yanked him from the game.

“I dunno Coach, just not concentrating I guess,” the
player replied.

As the first half rolled to an end, sweat was
pouring from Venturi’s face. All five starters had three fouls each
and his team had a mere five-point lead – without the fouls it
would have been at least fifteen. The team filed into the narrow
opening next to the bleachers en route to the locker room. Alex
Austin knew his brother was looking at him as he ran by, but kept
his head down – embarrassed that he had not played in the game like
most others. The boys were not looking forward to the reaming they
anticipated from their angry coach. He did not disappoint them.
Venturi could not believe that the starters were
uncharacteristically committing unnecessary fouls. The first few
bench players played all right, but the starters put in a lousy
half.

Parents were shouting stuff at the coach – the score
was excessively close to be fooling around. The second string
players were beginning to have their own foul troubles and at the
end of the third quarter, the score was all knotted-up. He sent the
starters back in for the fourth quarter. After the first minute of
the final period, Jamal apparently mis-stepped and went down hard
grasping his ankle. The trainer ran out with Coach Venturi right
behind.

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