The Big Time

CHAPTER FORTY

SETH COLE SAT DOWN so that Troy was seated between the owner and Drew. The owner pointed the remote and the Jets' defense-suspended in the middle of a New England Patriots pass play-went into action. Seth Cole let four plays run without stopping before he said, "Well?"

Troy cleared his throat and said, "It's like the weatherman. I see patterns, and then I know what the plays will be."

"But it takes time for the patterns to emerge," the Jets' owner said, nodding. "Yes, I know. I told you; I've read the papers. So, I don't see why a team-with the right technology-couldn't break the patterns and render you next to worthless."

Troy's stomach knotted up, and Troy looked at his father. Drew put a strong hand on Troy's shoulder and held it tight.

"Having played a little football myself," his father said, "I can tell you that if you break certain patterns, then you'll lose for sure. If it's third down and you've got ten yards to go, for instance, you better pass or the odds of getting a first down are about one in thirty."

"Well put," the owner said, and he ran another play.

"Strong side draw," Troy said, the knowledge coming to him before Seth Cole could advance to the next play.

The Patriots ran a strong side draw.

"Deep post to Randy Moss," Troy said, and they ran it.

"Weak side inside trap," Troy said.

When the Patriots ran the play Troy called, Seth Cole flicked off the video. They sat in total darkness for a minute, and Troy shifted in his seat.

The owner cleared his throat and said, "People are uncomfortable with situations they're not used to. That's human nature. Sitting in the dark, for instance. Something that for me is as natural as sitting under the noon sun. Are you uncomfortable, Troy?"

Troy hesitated, glancing at the blackness where his father sat before he said, "A little. I guess."

"Yes," the owner said, "I'd think a lot. And I'm going to ask you to do something you haven't done before, too. Because if I'm going to invest the kind of money I think you're asking for, I don't want to pay it to someone who can't adjust. In life, things never stay the same. In football, you have to adjust quickly, even when you're under pressure."

"Okay," Troy said after another moment of silence.

"Good," the owner said.

Troy heard a click, and the screen glowed to life, showing a frozen picture of the Jets. It didn't take Troy more than a half second to recognize that the difference was that now the screen showed the Jets' offense.

"We have what a lot of people are calling the best young offensive weapon in the game," the owner said.

"Thane Lewis?" Troy asked.

"Yes," the owner said, "and if I'm going to pay you a fortune to work for my team, I want to take advantage of that talent. I've been thinking about your ability, and I'd like to see if it works for both sides of the ball. I know defenses react to what they see on the offense; but without motion, I'm wondering if you can predict what coverage a defense is in, and if you could signal something like that in to a player like Thane Lewis. If he knew the coverage, I don't think there's a defense in the league that could stop him. Could you read a defense like that?"

Troy had to stick his hands under his legs to keep from jumping out of his seat and shouting. A thrill shot through him, and he nodded his head.

"I know I can," he said.

"You know?" The owner's voice was laced with amusement.

"I play football, Mr. Cole," Troy said.

"I heard that."

"I play quarterback," Troy added. "We just won the state championship on Saturday. A lot of it is because I know exactly what the coverage is going to be when I step up to the line. I can throw it, too."

"So, why haven't the Falcons used you to help their offense?" Seth Cole asked. "Or have they?"

"No," Troy said. "I guess nobody really thought about it. Seth-not you, Mr. Cole, but Seth Halloway-he's the one who got the team to even give me a chance, and he's their middle linebacker. So I just have been helping the defense."

"Then let's see if you can help the Jets' offense," the owner said.

Troy turned his attention to the screen. Three plays later, he began to call the defensive coverage. The owner let him go for five plays before he pressed another button that brought up the lights. His eyes bore into Troy's, and a pleasant smile curled at the corners of his mouth.

"I like it. I like it very much," he said, then turned to Troy's dad. "How much?"

Troy's father scratched his chin and, without dropping the owner's gaze, said, "The Falcons are talking eight figures over three years."

"Ten million over three years?" Seth Cole said, his eyebrows disappearing beneath the eaves of dark hair.

"At a minimum," Troy's father said. "Eight figures is the range."

"Will they give you fifteen?" Seth Cole asked.

"Maybe," Troy's father said.

"No. They won't," Seth Cole said, grinning and shaking his head.

"I can't say," Troy's father said.

"I will."

"You will what?" his father asked.

"Give you fifteen million," Seth Cole said, glancing at Troy, "for three years. But I have to have an option for three more years at twenty, with a right of first refusal after that."

Troy's head spun. The room seemed to float around him. It was all so big, so fast. For some reason he couldn't stop thinking about G Money's pool.

"How much up front?" Troy heard his father ask.

"How much do you want?" Seth Cole said.

"Ten," Troy's father said.

Seth Cole burst into a short fit of laughter before he took a breath and said, "Five million up front, but you don't leave this room without agreeing to the deal. Do you have the authority?"

"Yes, his mother agreed to follow my lead on this," Troy's dad said. "I'll need her signature, though. She's his legal guardian, but she's trusting me to cut the deal."

"Very good," the owner said.

"But I can't just agree to something without considering all the options," Troy's father said.

The owner stared for a moment, his eyes sweeping across Troy's father's face as if he were reading a book.

"His mother agreed to follow your lead. You can do anything you want," Seth Cole said, his voice soft but deadly serious. "You're the agent. You're the lawyer. You're the father."

"How did you know that?" Troy asked, unable to stop himself.

Seth Cole looked at Troy with empty eyes. "I'm an investor. I make it my business."

They sat in silence for a few moments before Troy's father said, "Well, I really can't-"

Seth Cole stood abruptly and shook Troy's hand. "Very nice to meet you, Troy. I wish you the best of luck. Drew, maybe next time."

Seth Cole shook Troy's father's hand and slipped away, striding for the door behind the desk. Troy looked at his father and saw the anguish on his face.

"Wait!" Troy's father said.

But Seth Cole kept going.