[October 6th, 2015]
*knock, knock*
It was David Ragland, dropping off the practice schedule for today. Full-squad, supervised workouts had been going on for four days, and everything had been going great until yesterday's practice when we held our first scrimmage. Several skirmishes broke out, and while I appreciate the aggression and competitiveness, there's no place for taking a swing at a teammate. So, to punish the whole team, I had them run ladder drills until they couldn't stand up.
After about five minutes or so of thumbing through the schedule, Karen Rogers, my secretary, poked her head through the door.
"Rob, you have a call on line one. Ted Wilson." I wonder what he wants. Ted and I have become good friends, as I've always been a big baseball fan, and we went to a couple of Cincinnati Reds games this past summer.
"Hey Ted, what's shakin'?" I said, picking up the phone.
There was a pause on the other end of the line. "Rob, I've been thinking -- I have another friend that--"
"No, not another blind date...no offense Ted, but your friend Sarah didn't do it for me. I think she was just looking for a rebound," I said.
"Hear me out! She's the sister of a friend of mine, and she's a bit younger than Sarah. Look, just do me a solid here. If it doesn't work out, I won't try this again," he went on. "I'll even chip in a twelve-pack of IPA. Just name it."
"Unnnnggghhh, alright," I relented. "I'm busy tonight, but text me the address and I'll go pick her up tomorrow."