Of course, there
were a few rules in this league we played in, like four tries for a first down,
six points for a touchdown and automatic disqualification for cooling somebody,
but only the first two were enforced. The last one went into effect only if the
victim happened to be the referee. Referees were hard to find.
exhibition was nothing compared to what happened in our first game, but I was
blissfully unaware of what was to come and actually felt pretty good about
having to release quicker. Of course, Buffalo had to drive me home because
something had happened to my back. It felt as if there was something bad in it
and if I moved much things were going to break.
When I came into
the house I just stood in the front hall and waited. I knew I couldn't sit down
and if I walked I was going to look like some kind of robot. So I stood trying
to look casual and waited for Anne. When she finally came in I said, "Hi.
We won...and I threw for three."
She looked at me
and said, "Three what?"
"Touchdowns," I said. "You know, six points a touchdown?"
"How do you
feel?" she asked. "You look funny, like you're leading a
Just going up to take a shower." We stood there and I outwaited her, and
finally she went into the kitchen and I started my painful way upstairs.
In a day or two
my back got better, and I felt pretty good about the whole business. I'd made
the team, and I thought I had the game figured out. Even Anne didn't seem too
unhappy about it until a week or so later when Buffalo called up and Anne
answered the phone.
She knew who he
was because I had told her. They were on for a while, and Anne started to look
sort of peculiar before she handed me the phone. When I finished I went back
into the living room and she was sitting there with the same old Barbara
Stanwyck look on her.
"What did he
mean?" she asked.