Sam Rosen woke up the morning after the group draw was announced.
Even though he was no longer the starting quarterback for the Sarzonian national gridball team, he was interested to see whom Sarzonia would be drawn with. When he saw the teams drawn into Group B, he let out a brief sigh of relief.
Glad I'm not playing those guys, he thought as he saw top ranked defending champions Ranoria and sixth ranked Abanhfleft along with No. 20 HUElavia. There were also two unranked sides in Cordia and United Adaikes, but Group B was very much emerging as the group of death, at least according to Kanyean media.
Rosen propped his feet up on the coffee table in his living room as he reclined on his couch. He took a sip of Delaclav tea, which was as good as Sarzonian tea and was priced slightly less than the Sarzonian brew thanks to his having connections south of the border who could send him tea at a bargain price. He looked at his mobile as it rang, realising it was a reporter, most likely asking him his reaction to the group draw. He cross referenced the number with the list of media he'd talked to and when he realised it was a small weekly newspaper in the suburbs, he decided to let voice mail handle things.
"Not my circus, not my monkeys," he glibly said to the same reporter after he was asked about being booted from the team. "I don't fucking care anymore," he'd told another reporter. He took another sip of tea and saw the light on the voice mail indicator come up. He thought for a second. Do I call back and possibly give him the soundbite of the decade? Do I throw Gavin under the bus right here? He then decided not to. Gavin Davis could sink or swim on his own as Stars manager with an inexperienced quarterback playing in World Bowl action for the first time. He had no intentions of helping Cameron Stallworth out. Davis could do that.
Then he saw his phone ring again. He saw it was his agent, Ben McAllister.
Lemme guess, Gav wants to come crawling back, he thought when he picked up the phone.
"Sam, get to St. Helen's straight away."
"Wha- what do you mean?" St. Helen's was the children's hospital in Townsend, 15 minutes from Rosen's house.
"It's Sam, Jr. He's been shot. They don't know if he's going to make it." All of a sudden, the veneer of a quarterback who was too big for his britches was gone. The colour on his face was replaced by the stunned, ashen look of a father who was now worried about his son.
"Uh-on my way," Rosen said. He immediately stood up from the couch and went back to his room to throw on a pair of jeans and a collared shirt, then put his shoes on and raced to hospital. When he got there, he saw the doctor breathe a sigh of relief.
"It's a lot better than I thought at first," he said. "Your son's going to make it. We expect him to make a full recovery."
"What happened?"
"He was grazed with a bullet over at the firing range."
Rosen knew his son was at camp, but he also knew he wasn't supposed to go anywhere near the firing range. He'd made it clear to his son that was an absolute no-no. But then he'd gotten reports that his son was taken there against his will, and that only the fact that the man who took him there was a terrible shot kept Junior still alive and give him an opportunity to make a full recovery.
"You can go see your son," said the head nurse as they motioned into the room where Junior was still asleep. Rosen walked in. He saw the camp counselor who rushed his boy to hospital and noticed the blood stain under his lip on the right side of his face.
"What happened?"
"Someone tried to kidnap Samuel," the counselor said. "We fought him off, but the gun discharged. I'm sorry."
Rosen closed his eyes and bowed his head, his mouth still agape. He inhaled and exhaled. All of a sudden, his release from the Stars was the last thing on his mind. He'd run the complete gamut from thinking he was going to lose his son to realising life could be a lot worse than losing his starting job for the national gridball team. It was a moment of perspective.
That's why when he saw the phone call from Davis, he answered.
"Sam, I heard about your son! How is he?"
"He's expected to make a full recovery, Coach, thanks," Rosen said. The two men briefly exchanged pleasantries before hanging up.
It wouldn't lead to Rosen getting his old job back, but the incident made Rosen realise his priorities were out of whack. He needed perspective. He needed to understand that it wasn't all about him and being the quarterback for the Stars. And he got a needed jolt in potentially the worst possible way.
