Wishbone #7: Late Nights and New Developments

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.

Riding the bench is never a lot of fun, especially when your replacement plays great, which is exactly how Casey Thompson’s replacement, Tommy Tidwell, did against the Atlanta Falcons.  The Condors won 34-13, with Tidwell going 22-36, 2 TDs, and not a single pick.   

Casey was glad to get back to L.A. after the game, just to get away from the team and get home.  With Tidwell and the Condors playing like they just did against Atlanta, Thompson was going to have a hard time getting back into the starting line-up, and he knew it.

The team was not going to practice again until Tuesday – no Monday practices after a Sunday game.  Casey was looking at another 36 hours before he would be able to get back on the practice field and start showing what he was capable of.  He was wide awake, thinking – obsessing – about practice on Tuesday, so he grabbed a scotch and decided to try and watch some T.V.

Three hours – and half a fifth of scotch – later, Casey looked at his watch and saw it was 2 a.m.  Craigslist Los Angeles is always up and running, even at 2 a.m.  And that’s where Casey decided to head at 2 a.m. When the doorman rang Casey’s apartment at 3:30 to inform him that he had a guest, Casey had him sent up.  About 3 minutes later, there was a knock on his front door, and Casey let the man in.

“Hey, I’m Steve.  Glad that you look like how you described yourself – you’d be surprised how many guys lie about their appearance.”

Casey closed the door and led the trick into the living room.  “Uh, do you want to join me in a drink, or should we just, you know…”

“Why don’t we just, you know...get started.”  As the trick spoke, he walked over to Casey, unbuttoned Casey’s pants, and began to suck.

______

Tuesday’s practice started slow, and Casey, never that nimble of foot to begin with, was dragging.  By mid-afternoon, he had picked up the pace, and Coach Commons and Coach Ocasek placed him with the first team for more than the usual one set of reps that are given to a backup.  Casey played great, checking his progressions, hitting long outs, working the play action masterfully. 

After practice, as Casey was getting dressed, his phone rang.   It was Trish. 

“Wishbone, when are you getting done with practice?”

“I’m done now.  I was just getting dressed.”

“Great!  Look, I set up a meeting with Ginny Simons at my office before dinner, whenever you are available to get there.  Cool, honey?”

Casey lowered the phone from his ear, quietly said, “FUCK” to himself, and then put the phone back to his ear. 

“Yeah, sure Trish.  Whatever.  Let’s keep it a short meeting, OK?  I had a long practice – it was great, but I’m beat.”

Casey arrived at Trish’ rather immense offices and made his way to her suite.  As he walked in he saw Trish sitting at on a couch across from a tall, beautiful African American woman, who he immediately recognized as Ginny Simons from her picture in her newspaper column.

“Wishbone!  Come on in.  Casey, let me introduce you to Ginny Simons.  Ginny, this is Casey Thompson, once and future starting quarterback for the California Condors.”

Casey took a seat across from Ginny, on the couch next to Trish.  “Well, let’s get into it, I guess!” 
”Great, thanks Casey.”  Ginny brought out her pad and pen and started the interview.  “Well, let’s begin with why Trish and your friends call you Wishbone.”

As the two talked, Ginny took Casey threw his college days, into the pros, and got into the subject of the bar fight very briefly, spending more time on where Casey felt he was now, in his career.  The interview, to Casey, felt more like a conversation.  Ginny was good at her job.

After about 30 minutes, Trish’s phone ring, and she got up from the couch to talk.  Within a minute she hung up and interrupted the interview.  “Casey.  The D.A. has dropped the case against you.  Period.  End of deal.  It’s over. 

I gotta go make some calls to the media, get all over this!”  Trish left her office and headed down the hall to the PR department of her firm. 

“Well, Wishbone; let me be the first to congratulate you!”  As Ginny said this, she extended her hand to Casey.

“Thanks, Ginny.  Look, are we about wrapped up?  I want to go talk with Trish, maybe go grab a beer or something. Man, what a load off…”

“Sure, we’re done.  And I really want to thank you.  I will be writing up a piece in the next week or so; I’ll tie it to the case being dropped.”

“That sounds great.  So, I guess, thank you.”

“You know, Wishbone seems to be the perfect nickname for you.”

Casey was headed towards the door when Ginny said that, and, by the way she said it, Casey knew that she was about to say something else, so he stopped and turned towards her.  “Why is that?”

“You know, you pull a wishbone in two directions until it snaps.  Isn’t that what’s going on in your life, Casey?  Being pulled in two directions, on the verge of snapping?  You know, I almost snapped.  Until I finally decided to come out the closet.  I hope you can make a decision, Wishbone, that keeps you from snapping as well.”

Ginny collected her pad and pen and headed out the door as Casey stood there in silence.
_______

Casey got home from Trish’s offices around 7:30 and made his way into his bedroom.  He flipped on the TV to Sports Center in time to see an NFL show which had turned into a running discussion on the bar fight and Casey’s future with the Condors.  For the first time in weeks, Casey did not turn the channel. 
By 11:00, Casey was still up, and bumbling around the house, unable to lie down for the night.  He had calls stacked up on his voice mail, but they could wait.  Casey headed to the living room and opened up the remainder of the bottle of scotch from the previous night and made a drink.  He turned the TV to mute and put on some music, still antsy. 

An hour or so – and several drinks  - later, Casey headed over to his computer.  He pulled up Steve’s email from the other night, and asked him to come over again now.  Two minutes later, Steve replied.  Casey committed to another $200 for the evening, and 40 minutes later, Steve was at the front desk of his apartment building, headed up to Casey’s.

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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.