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First and Ten
Mathias Turtz
The boys on the field get ready for another running play. As they get into position the dust from the barren field gets kicked up. It drifts towards the opposing team’s bleachers, covering them for an instant with a fine brown screen.
Tonight is the first home game for Beacon County High School’s Warriors. Last season they made it all the way to state. This season seems to be just as promising. I stand on the sideline, sports coat slung over my shoulder, sweating through my undershirt. It’s a warm night in Mayerton. The fans shout and holler; some are dressed like Indian chiefs. In a town this small you can still get away with dressing like that.
It’s been almost four months since I was fired from Sportsnet. I was one of the lead correspondents until I got so drunk one night during a live Jets/Chiefs broadcast I punched the producer who was sleeping with my wife and told the cameraman “the Chiefs could go fuck themselves.” Three weeks later I found a job here in Mayerton, Kansas broadcasting local sports.
The boys on the field start the play. The ball flies from the center’s hands. The quarterback who fakes left, hands it off to the running back who takes it in for another touchdown.
The cameraman gives me the signal that we are coming back from commercial.
“Good evening Jim, it’s another amazing night for football here at Warrior stadium. Looks like another great year for Beacon County High.”
Only a few hundred people will see this broadcast.
“Jake Hanson, our home team Quarterback looks better than ever in his first game against Mason High’s Blackbirds.”
The camera’s red light goes out.
The final score is Beacon 34, Mason 14.
I help my team pack up the gear and load it into the news van. It’s not really a van, more of an old pick-up the station got for free and converted into a storage vehicle for their equipment that badly needed to be replaced.
My apartment above Jim’s Hardware & Farm Equipment is not as big as the one I kept in New York, but it is pleasant. In the dead of night I can hear the cows mulling about at the stockyards four blocks down Main Street.
Mayerton is one of those small Midwest towns you thought only existed in Lifetime specials. It has its diner, run by Mavis Johansen and her husband, the county library and courthouse, and miles of farms that smell of manure.
I take a glass out of the old wooden cabinet that squeaks and pour myself a drink. There is a bar a couple of miles outside of town, well, more like a roadhouse. It’s frequented by truckers and farmhands that have nothing better to do on weeknights than get drunk and play chicken in the cornfields.
The phone rings.
“Hi Lana.”
“Buck, how’d you know it was me?”
Lana is my ex-wife.
“Who else would be calling me at midnight on a Friday?”
“I guess your right. How’d the first broadcast go?
“Alright, you should have seen the fans. If a real Indian was here, he’d probably have sued.”
“That bad huh?”
“Yeah, what do you want Lana?”
I take a sip of bourbon.
“Just wanted to see how you were doing Buck. I haven’t spoken with you since you’ve been in Kansas.”
“How’s Tim?”
“He’s fine. They miss you at network Buck. They say that maybe in a few months they can have you back.”
“If I want to come back, things here in Kansas are going great.”
She can tell the I’m lying.
“Buck, I miss you too.”
“Okay Lana, I have things to do. I’ll call you this weekend.”
“Goodnight Buck.”
I put the phone back on its cradle.
Generally, I don’t like to smoke inside my house, but this place doesn’t have a balcony. I stretch out on the old couch that was here when I moved in and light up.
I wake up at half past Eleven and give the station manager a call. He says I don’t need to drive in today. There isn’t much going on. He’ll see me on Monday.
I go down to Mavis’ Diner and order a coffee and a hamburger special. Surprisingly enough, they have some of the best food I’ve had. The coffee’s not too bad either. Mavis brings me my order.
“Have a rough night Buck?”
I nod.
“We won last night. I saw you on the nine o’clock news. Looks like we’re in for another great season.”
“Yup.”
I take a long sip from the steaming hot cup she poured.
“You know, I’m having a little get together at the house tonight. It might be a good chance for you to meet some of your devoted fans.”
I laugh.
“You’re getting quite a following here Buck.”
“I’ll try to make it Mavis.”
“You do that.”
I finish up my lunch and head back to watch some afternoon football on cable. I nurse a few beers during the game. The Jets are in the playoffs. I should be the one behind the mike.
At Seven I take a shower. I think I am becoming an alcoholic. Ever since I got fired there hasn’t been one night I haven’t gone to sleep stone drunk. I cry a little in the shower over the things I’ve lost: my job, my wife, and my friends.
Mavis’ house is an old barn that she and her husband Hank converted when they moved here fifteen years ago. They also had moved from New York, wanting a more simple life than the one they led in the city.
Hank was a pharmacist back in the city. He is a big man who always wears coveralls. When I get to the door, he’s the first one to greet me.
“Buck, nice to see you here. Saw you on the news last night. Go Warriors, eh?”
“Go Warriors.”
“Let me get you a drink, beer, scotch, cocktail?”
“Scotch.”
“Just a second.”
He makes his way through the small crowd in the living room. Most people at the party are farmers discussing either new farm equipment or the game the night last night.
“Why Buck, how nice to see you.”
It’s Jane, Hank and Mavis’ daughter. She’d recently graduated from NYU Law.
“Jane, nice to see you here. Home to help Ma and Pa with the diner?
She Smiles.
“No, just home for the fall. I go back in January to start at some law firm in the City.”
“How nice,” Hank brings me my scotch, “excited to start a new job?”
“Nervous is more like it. They offered me a great job in their corporate law division.”
I smile. The scotch burns my throat.
“Well I hope I get to see more of you while you’re here.”
“Me too”
She goes back into the crowd. I can see her dark hair as she moves through them. After a few more drinks all I can see is her.
I stumble back to my apartment to sleep it all off.
I wake up to the sound of church bells. There is a crowd gathered around the small white washed church on the corner. It’s Sunday in Mayerton.
I have never been a churchgoer but today I feel the need for company. I put on slacks and a white dress shirt and head over.
Jane is sitting in the third row of pews. I sit down next to her.
After church most of us them head down to the park for a picnic. I follow Jane and her family. We sit on the benches while a few of the younger men get a baseball game going.
“Buck, you wanna play third for us?” One of them calls to me.
I go out on to the field. The first few innings are slow. There aren’t that many runs scored but it seems like everyone gets to bat. My back aches from standing around for so long.
The game ends. My team won which means the other team has to buy us all drinks tonight at the roadhouse. Jane invites me to dinner so, I decide go there instead of the bar.
During dinner Jane asks me about being on TV, if I like it. I tell her I do. It’s my job after all.
When everything is cleared from the table, Jane takes my hand and leads me out to the porch. I light up a cigarette. She does the same.
“Mom and Dad don’t like me to smoke.”
“My wife didn’t like when I smoked either.”
“You were married?”
“Yep, for about 5 years. She cheated on me with my producer. That’s kinda what brought me here.”
“I’m glad you’re here Buck.”
She smiles. The light catches here green eyes and they seem to twinkle. She looks beautiful under the stars.
“Would you like to go back to my place?” I know I am being forward. “I have a few records you might like.”
“I would love that.”
I wake up next to her. It was one of the first sober nights of sleep I’ve had in months. We didn’t make love, but it was nice to wake up next to someone. She looks like a cherub. A few strands of her auburn hair have fallen across her face as she slept. She blows them around with each exhale.
“Jane” I whisper.
“Hi”
“Hi, do you want some coffee.”
“Hm, that sounds great.”
I get up from bed and put a bathrobe on. The wood floor is cold and squeaks as I make my way to the kitchen. I put a pot of coffee on and take a seat at the small table.
She comes in wearing on of my t-shirts. It’s big on her, but she looks incredibly sexy. She takes the seat right next to me and leans her head against my shoulder.
“It was so nice to sleep next to someone last night. I was so busy with school in the city that I barely had any time to myself.”
“It was nice for me too.”
She takes her coffee like mine: two sugars and cream.
Jane leaves my place later in the afternoon. We’re going to get some dinner later.
The phone rings.
“Hi Buck.”
It’s Lana.
“Hi.”
“Having a good weekend?”
“Yeah, I met someone last night.”
I can hear her breath.
“Her name is Jane. She just graduated from NYU Law.”
“A little young, don’t you think?”
“Only nine years. She’s 25-”
“Still, she’s just a kid.”
“She’s mature for her age.”
“Buck.”
“Don’t worry Lana, I’m not going to do anything to corrupt her.”
“I believe you.” She pauses. “Well I just wanted to say hello. Wish you a good week.”
“Thanks Lana.”
Jane decides we should go to the roadhouse on Thursday night. The place looks like something out of a horror movie. There’s a bright neon sign declaring, to all who pass by, that they serve ice-cold beer.
Jan takes her coat off and finds a table near the bar. There is a local band covering hits from the eighties.
“Rustic, eh?”
I can barely hear her over the drum solo.
“Yeah, nothing like this in New York huh?”
“Nope”
“You want a drink?”
I go to the bar and get two Bud Lights. The band has gone on a five-minute break.
Back at the table Jane is just finishing up a call.
“Okay, I’ll see you next week.”
“Who was that?”
“Oh,” She takes the beer, “that was John from the firm. He wants to come into town to do a little more background research on me. They can’t hire just anyone.”
She laughs.
The band comes back from break and starts to play ‘My Sharona’.
“You wanna dance?
“Yeah, I haven’t been dancing since I was with Lana.”
We dance close for the first song. She smells like lavender.
The band ends its second set and we go back to our table.
“You’re that guy from Sportsnet.” There’s a guy wearing a Chiefs jacket standing behind me.
“I was on Sportsnet, yeah.”
“You told the Chiefs to go fuck themselves.”
“I did.” There’s gonna be trouble. “Not one of the high points in my career.”
“Well fuck you.”
I don’t see the punch coming. It knocks me off my chair and onto the soggy wood floor. Jane is screaming.
Standing up, I only get knocked back down again. He’s a strong motherfucker. I haven’t been in a fight since high school. I don’t want to fight.
He keeps knocking me down. I just get up and try to figure out a way to get the hell out of here. Jane reaches for something in her purse and suddenly my assailant is cussing her out. The pepper in the air makes me cough.
“Come on Buck, let’s get out of here.”
We’re in my car and I can feel the bruises starting to form around my eye, my lips feel thick, and I can taste blood.
At my apartment Jane takes off my shirt. She cleans my wounds.
“I’m glad you didn’t hit him back. I’ve been in a few too many relationships with violent men.”
“He kicked the shit out of me Jane.”
She kisses me on my bruised right eye and I wince. I can feel her bare skin against my chest. It’s warm and soft.
“Thank you for not hitting him back Buck.”
---
It’s Friday night again and the Warriors are back at home. Jane is somewhere in the stands. The nights have cooled off, and I am thankful to have my jacket. The team is seven and zero. She spends most of her nights at my place.
The dust drifts out across the field as the teams take their positions for the first quarter.
First and Ten
Mathias Turtz
The boys on the field get ready for another running play. As they get into position the dust from the barren field gets kicked up. It drifts towards the opposing team’s bleachers, covering them for an instant with a fine brown screen.
Tonight is the first home game for Beacon County High School’s Warriors. Last season they made it all the way to state. This season seems to be just as promising. I stand on the sideline, sports coat slung over my shoulder, sweating through my undershirt. It’s a warm night in Mayerton. The fans shout and holler; some are dressed like Indian chiefs. In a town this small you can still get away with dressing like that.
It’s been almost four months since I was fired from Sportsnet. I was one of the lead correspondents until I got so drunk one night during a live Jets/Chiefs broadcast I punched the producer who was sleeping with my wife and told the cameraman “the Chiefs could go fuck themselves.” Three weeks later I found a job here in Mayerton, Kansas broadcasting local sports.
The boys on the field start the play. The ball flies from the center’s hands. The quarterback who fakes left, hands it off to the running back who takes it in for another touchdown.
The cameraman gives me the signal that we are coming back from commercial.
“Good evening Jim, it’s another amazing night for football here at Warrior stadium. Looks like another great year for Beacon County High.”
Only a few hundred people will see this broadcast.
“Jake Hanson, our home team Quarterback looks better than ever in his first game against Mason High’s Blackbirds.”
The camera’s red light goes out.
The final score is Beacon 34, Mason 14.
I help my team pack up the gear and load it into the news van. It’s not really a van, more of an old pick-up the station got for free and converted into a storage vehicle for their equipment that badly needed to be replaced.
My apartment above Jim’s Hardware & Farm Equipment is not as big as the one I kept in New York, but it is pleasant. In the dead of night I can hear the cows mulling about at the stockyards four blocks down Main Street.
Mayerton is one of those small Midwest towns you thought only existed in Lifetime specials. It has its diner, run by Mavis Johansen and her husband, the county library and courthouse, and miles of farms that smell of manure.
I take a glass out of the old wooden cabinet that squeaks and pour myself a drink. There is a bar a couple of miles outside of town, well, more like a roadhouse. It’s frequented by truckers and farmhands that have nothing better to do on weeknights than get drunk and play chicken in the cornfields.
The phone rings.
“Hi Lana.”
“Buck, how’d you know it was me?”
Lana is my ex-wife.
“Who else would be calling me at midnight on a Friday?”
“I guess your right. How’d the first broadcast go?
“Alright, you should have seen the fans. If a real Indian was here, he’d probably have sued.”
“That bad huh?”
“Yeah, what do you want Lana?”
I take a sip of bourbon.
“Just wanted to see how you were doing Buck. I haven’t spoken with you since you’ve been in Kansas.”
“How’s Tim?”
“He’s fine. They miss you at network Buck. They say that maybe in a few months they can have you back.”
“If I want to come back, things here in Kansas are going great.”
She can tell the I’m lying.
“Buck, I miss you too.”
“Okay Lana, I have things to do. I’ll call you this weekend.”
“Goodnight Buck.”
I put the phone back on its cradle.
Generally, I don’t like to smoke inside my house, but this place doesn’t have a balcony. I stretch out on the old couch that was here when I moved in and light up.
I wake up at half past Eleven and give the station manager a call. He says I don’t need to drive in today. There isn’t much going on. He’ll see me on Monday.
I go down to Mavis’ Diner and order a coffee and a hamburger special. Surprisingly enough, they have some of the best food I’ve had. The coffee’s not too bad either. Mavis brings me my order.
“Have a rough night Buck?”
I nod.
“We won last night. I saw you on the nine o’clock news. Looks like we’re in for another great season.”
“Yup.”
I take a long sip from the steaming hot cup she poured.
“You know, I’m having a little get together at the house tonight. It might be a good chance for you to meet some of your devoted fans.”
I laugh.
“You’re getting quite a following here Buck.”
“I’ll try to make it Mavis.”
“You do that.”
I finish up my lunch and head back to watch some afternoon football on cable. I nurse a few beers during the game. The Jets are in the playoffs. I should be the one behind the mike.
At Seven I take a shower. I think I am becoming an alcoholic. Ever since I got fired there hasn’t been one night I haven’t gone to sleep stone drunk. I cry a little in the shower over the things I’ve lost: my job, my wife, and my friends.
Mavis’ house is an old barn that she and her husband Hank converted when they moved here fifteen years ago. They also had moved from New York, wanting a more simple life than the one they led in the city.
Hank was a pharmacist back in the city. He is a big man who always wears coveralls. When I get to the door, he’s the first one to greet me.
“Buck, nice to see you here. Saw you on the news last night. Go Warriors, eh?”
“Go Warriors.”
“Let me get you a drink, beer, scotch, cocktail?”
“Scotch.”
“Just a second.”
He makes his way through the small crowd in the living room. Most people at the party are farmers discussing either new farm equipment or the game the night last night.
“Why Buck, how nice to see you.”
It’s Jane, Hank and Mavis’ daughter. She’d recently graduated from NYU Law.
“Jane, nice to see you here. Home to help Ma and Pa with the diner?
She Smiles.
“No, just home for the fall. I go back in January to start at some law firm in the City.”
“How nice,” Hank brings me my scotch, “excited to start a new job?”
“Nervous is more like it. They offered me a great job in their corporate law division.”
I smile. The scotch burns my throat.
“Well I hope I get to see more of you while you’re here.”
“Me too”
She goes back into the crowd. I can see her dark hair as she moves through them. After a few more drinks all I can see is her.
I stumble back to my apartment to sleep it all off.
I wake up to the sound of church bells. There is a crowd gathered around the small white washed church on the corner. It’s Sunday in Mayerton.
I have never been a churchgoer but today I feel the need for company. I put on slacks and a white dress shirt and head over.
Jane is sitting in the third row of pews. I sit down next to her.
After church most of us them head down to the park for a picnic. I follow Jane and her family. We sit on the benches while a few of the younger men get a baseball game going.
“Buck, you wanna play third for us?” One of them calls to me.
I go out on to the field. The first few innings are slow. There aren’t that many runs scored but it seems like everyone gets to bat. My back aches from standing around for so long.
The game ends. My team won which means the other team has to buy us all drinks tonight at the roadhouse. Jane invites me to dinner so, I decide go there instead of the bar.
During dinner Jane asks me about being on TV, if I like it. I tell her I do. It’s my job after all.
When everything is cleared from the table, Jane takes my hand and leads me out to the porch. I light up a cigarette. She does the same.
“Mom and Dad don’t like me to smoke.”
“My wife didn’t like when I smoked either.”
“You were married?”
“Yep, for about 5 years. She cheated on me with my producer. That’s kinda what brought me here.”
“I’m glad you’re here Buck.”
She smiles. The light catches here green eyes and they seem to twinkle. She looks beautiful under the stars.
“Would you like to go back to my place?” I know I am being forward. “I have a few records you might like.”
“I would love that.”
I wake up next to her. It was one of the first sober nights of sleep I’ve had in months. We didn’t make love, but it was nice to wake up next to someone. She looks like a cherub. A few strands of her auburn hair have fallen across her face as she slept. She blows them around with each exhale.
“Jane” I whisper.
“Hi”
“Hi, do you want some coffee.”
“Hm, that sounds great.”
I get up from bed and put a bathrobe on. The wood floor is cold and squeaks as I make my way to the kitchen. I put a pot of coffee on and take a seat at the small table.
She comes in wearing on of my t-shirts. It’s big on her, but she looks incredibly sexy. She takes the seat right next to me and leans her head against my shoulder.
“It was so nice to sleep next to someone last night. I was so busy with school in the city that I barely had any time to myself.”
“It was nice for me too.”
She takes her coffee like mine: two sugars and cream.
Jane leaves my place later in the afternoon. We’re going to get some dinner later.
The phone rings.
“Hi Buck.”
It’s Lana.
“Hi.”
“Having a good weekend?”
“Yeah, I met someone last night.”
I can hear her breath.
“Her name is Jane. She just graduated from NYU Law.”
“A little young, don’t you think?”
“Only nine years. She’s 25-”
“Still, she’s just a kid.”
“She’s mature for her age.”
“Buck.”
“Don’t worry Lana, I’m not going to do anything to corrupt her.”
“I believe you.” She pauses. “Well I just wanted to say hello. Wish you a good week.”
“Thanks Lana.”
Jane decides we should go to the roadhouse on Thursday night. The place looks like something out of a horror movie. There’s a bright neon sign declaring, to all who pass by, that they serve ice-cold beer.
Jan takes her coat off and finds a table near the bar. There is a local band covering hits from the eighties.
“Rustic, eh?”
I can barely hear her over the drum solo.
“Yeah, nothing like this in New York huh?”
“Nope”
“You want a drink?”
I go to the bar and get two Bud Lights. The band has gone on a five-minute break.
Back at the table Jane is just finishing up a call.
“Okay, I’ll see you next week.”
“Who was that?”
“Oh,” She takes the beer, “that was John from the firm. He wants to come into town to do a little more background research on me. They can’t hire just anyone.”
She laughs.
The band comes back from break and starts to play ‘My Sharona’.
“You wanna dance?
“Yeah, I haven’t been dancing since I was with Lana.”
We dance close for the first song. She smells like lavender.
The band ends its second set and we go back to our table.
“You’re that guy from Sportsnet.” There’s a guy wearing a Chiefs jacket standing behind me.
“I was on Sportsnet, yeah.”
“You told the Chiefs to go fuck themselves.”
“I did.” There’s gonna be trouble. “Not one of the high points in my career.”
“Well fuck you.”
I don’t see the punch coming. It knocks me off my chair and onto the soggy wood floor. Jane is screaming.
Standing up, I only get knocked back down again. He’s a strong motherfucker. I haven’t been in a fight since high school. I don’t want to fight.
He keeps knocking me down. I just get up and try to figure out a way to get the hell out of here. Jane reaches for something in her purse and suddenly my assailant is cussing her out. The pepper in the air makes me cough.
“Come on Buck, let’s get out of here.”
We’re in my car and I can feel the bruises starting to form around my eye, my lips feel thick, and I can taste blood.
At my apartment Jane takes off my shirt. She cleans my wounds.
“I’m glad you didn’t hit him back. I’ve been in a few too many relationships with violent men.”
“He kicked the shit out of me Jane.”
She kisses me on my bruised right eye and I wince. I can feel her bare skin against my chest. It’s warm and soft.
“Thank you for not hitting him back Buck.”
---
It’s Friday night again and the Warriors are back at home. Jane is somewhere in the stands. The nights have cooled off, and I am thankful to have my jacket. The team is seven and zero. She spends most of her nights at my place.
The dust drifts out across the field as the teams take their positions for the first quarter.