Wishbone #4: Hell to P(l)ay

Follow Casey Thompson, star quarterback for the Los Angeles Condors, as he struggles to come out of the closet and win - both on and off the field of play.

Sunday, September 14, 2008, Condors Stadium, Los Angeles

First Quarter: The Condors start the game on defense, and it’s three and out for the visiting Arizona Cardinals. The Condors get the ball on their 43- great field position. Running a series of play-option passes, Casey goes 1-3 for 2 yards, and they punt. The Cardinals again go three and out, giving the Condors the ball on the 36. Casey goes 0-5, with 2 first downs coming from their running back. The Cardinals get the ball and score.

Score:  AZ 7. Condors 0

Second Quarter:  The Condors get the ball on the 32, and Casey throws a pick, which is returned for a TD for AZ.  On the next series, the Condors mainly run, and on the few pass plays they do use, Casey is 1-4, 8 yards, and fails to run through his progressions over and over.  A few more series of downs to no avail, until the Cardinals return a punt for a TD, and then halftime.

Halftime Score:  AZ 14, Condors 0

Second Half:  The Condors’ QB comes out smoking, going 22-29 in the second half, 3 TDs, and 298 yards, leading the Condors to a come from behind 21-14 victory.  A stunning and exciting game!   Only problem is, the Condors second-half QB was Thomas Tidwell, Casey’s backup.  Casey had been benched at halftime.

Post-Game Reality Check
After dressing, Casey Thompson headed to Coach Commons’ office to talk.  As he entered, offensive coordinator Ocasek entered with him, and both took seats across the desk from Coach Commons.

“Casey, I think you know why I have had to bench you.  I can’t put you out there – I can’t put anyone out there – unless I am confident we can win with them.  And, right now, you don’t inspire a lot of confidence.”

“Coach, I understand.  It was a bad game.  I didn’t read their blitz packages.  I see that, so I can study up on that for next week’s game.”

“Casey, it’s far more than that.  You aren’t even reading your own progressions…look, we talked about this earlier in the week.  This is my decision, period.  You’re a great player.  And you will be a great player again, soon.  But right now, you're second string.  That’s that.  Please, for everyone's sake, think about what is happening here.  Talk to Coach Ocasek, and work this shit out.  That’s all.”

Coach Commons got up from behind his desk and opened the door to let Casey out.  “Oh, don’t go nowhere.  Mr. Elston wants to meet with you and Trish.  Trish is on her way over and will meet you up in Mr. Elston’s office.  Look, Wishbone.  Listen to him, agree with him – at least nod and say yes – and let it go, whatever he says.  He’s got his concerns.  Your concerns should be this team and that football field.  That’s all.”

Casey headed out and over to the elevator bank to take him up to the offices of one Vincent Elston, III, owner of the California Condors.  Vincent Elston, III inherited money by inheriting a newspaper business his father had founded up in Sacramento.  That was 20 years ago, and in those ensuing twenty years, Elston had parlayed one newspaper into an international media empire, and from those proceeds, bought the California Condors franchise.  Vincent Elston was what was known as a “hands-on” owner to the press, and a “prick” to the players and coaches.

As Casey entered the outside office suite, he saw Trish Gillespie, his agent and best friend, and Tom Selvy, his criminal attorney, mulling around.  As he shook hands with Tom, Vincent Elston opened up his office doors and waved the group inside.

“Sit down, folks”, Elston said, pointing at three chairs arranged across from his desk.  “I want to update you all on some of the activities going on around here I think you ought to know about.  Actually, I have already updated Tom here on a lot of this.”  Elston walked around slowly behind the group as he spoke.

“You know, Casey, one of the beautiful things about being in the newspaper business is that one gets to develop a lot of know-how on finding things out about people when one needs to.  Now, this guy Arnold Wiles, who you dropped with one punch at the bar the other night, we got some interesting things on him.  Isn’t that right, Tom?”

“Yes, I would say so.  He’s got a nice, long record of drunk and disorderly conduct, including 3 previous arrests and a conviction stemming from bar fights.  And, he’s got a P.O. on him from his wife – whom he has yet to divorce.  All of this is gonna be funneled to the D.A.’s office for them to factor in as they decide whether or not to actually charge you criminally.”

Casey looked over to Trish, who had sat forward in her chair, and said, “I will admit I am not a criminal attorney, so I don’t know about these things.  But it seems to me we need to get into the press at the same time, to put pressure on the D.A. not to indict.”

“Again, that’s one of the beauties of owning a media empire.  This stuff will all be coming out in tomorrow’s editions in Philadelphia and Atlanta, all on deep source, mind you.”  As Elston said that, he maneuvered around to take a seat at his desk.

“Now, I’ll keep this short.  Tom will be able to tell you more later.  Casey.  You got one job in this matter.  Stay home, and out of trouble.  We should be able to get this crap cleared in a matter of a week or two at most.  Until then, I don’t want to see a single TV report or anything else about you.  Got it?”

Casey looked to Trish, and looked back at Elston.  “Won’t be a problem, sir.”

Vincent Elston got up from behind his desk.  “Good.  Now, Tom, if you will excuse us, I have a few things I want to go over with Trish and Casey alone.”

As Tom Selvy left the room, Vincent Elston closed the doors behind him and walked back over to the desk where Casey and Trish were sitting.

“Casey, I would have had this conversation with you in private, but I know you and Trish are best friends and I know whatever we talk about now you would tell her anyway, so why bother?  Casey, as I was saying a few minutes ago, the beautiful thing about owning a media empire is you can find things out about people.  And I know – have known since we drafted you – that you’re a fag.

“Hold on!” Trish jumped out of her chair and was screaming.  “You wanna think this shit though, Mr. Elston, before you get too far out on a limb.”

“Relax, Ms. Gillespie, and hear me out.  Personally, I don’t like it, I don’t like what your client does, his friendship with Greg Foreman, the whole damn thing.  But I like making money off of this franchise.  And Casey, when he plays right, makes me money.  So here’s the thing:  I know all about you, Casey, and I know this.  You better check that shit.  I don’t want to hear about any more faggot comments in regards to you.  I don’t need no faggot running my team’s offense, and I can tell you I ain’t gonna have no faggot running my teams offense.  You decide, son, what you want.  You want to play in this league and succeed, then you got one choice.  You want to go prancing around the gay bars, well, you’ll be doing it in another career.  Are we clear on this?  Now, you go listen to Coach Commons.  He knows nothing about this conversation, and doesn’t need to.  You just go listen to Coach, and get back in gear, and get this team winning and winning big.  Any questions?”

Casey jolted out of his seat and headed for the door.  “Trish, let’s go.”  But Trish took her time getting up, and as she slowly gathered her papers together she looked dead into Vincent Elston’s eyes.  “You know, Mr. Elston, one of the beautiful things about representing this faggot Casey Thompson is it has made me a partner at the biggest sports agency in the nation.  In turn, that has made me an agent for 15 of the top 40 players in this league.  Some of them really want to play for the California Condors.  But – and here’s the really beautiful thing about this – not a goddamned one of them is ever going to play for you if I say that they don’t.  Are we clear on that, Mr. Elston?”

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A Cubs and Northwestern fan, Joe Moag is a major sports junkie, and although he still runs, he hasn't been able to dunk anything more than a donut for decades.