Playing for Pizza by John Grisham

Author:John Grisham
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub, azw3
Tags: Americans - Italy - Parma, Quarterbacks (Football), General, Fiction - General, Popular American Fiction, Parma (Italy), Americans, Suspense, Fiction, Sports, Parma (Italy) - Social life and customs
ISBN: 9780440244714
Publisher: Random House, Inc.
Published: 2008-07-22T17:55:41.862000+00:00

Playing for Pizza

Chapter 18

Rick and Sam waited like expectant fathers at the end of a hallway on the second floor of the hospital. It was 11:30 Sunday night, and Trey had been in surgery since just after 8:00 p.m. The play was a thirty- yard pass at midfield, near the Panthers' bench. Sam heard the crack of the fibula. Rick did not. He did, however, see the blood and the bone fragment protruding through the sock. They said little as they killed time by reading magazines. Sam was of the opinion that they could still qualify for the playoffs if they won the remaining five games, a tough chore since Bergamo lay ahead. And Bolzano was strong again; they had just lost to Bergamo by two points. But winning seemed unlikely with so little offense left, and with no American in the secondary to stifle the passing game. It was more pleasant to ignore football and stare at magazines. A nurse called them and led them to the third floor to a semiprivate room where Trey was being arranged for the night. His left leg was covered in a massive plaster cast. Tubes ran from his arm and nose. “He'll sleep all night,” another nurse said. She went on to explain that the doctor said everything had gone fine, no complications, a fairly routine compound fracture. She found a blanket and a pillow, and Rick settled into a vinyl chair

next to the bed. Sam promised to hustle back early Monday morning to check on things. A curtain was pulled, and Rick was left alone with the last black Panther, a very sweet country kid from rural Mississippi who would now be shipped home to his mother like broken merchandise. Trey's right leg was uncovered, and Rick studied it. The ankle was very thin, much too thin to withstand the violence of SEC football. He was too skinny and had trouble keeping his weight up, though he had been voted third-team all-conference his senior year at Ole Miss.

What would he do now? What was Sly doing now? What would any of them do once they faced the reality that the game was over? The nurse eased in around one and turned down the lights. She handed Rick a small blue pill and said, “To sleep.” Twenty minutes later he was knocked out as cold as Trey.

Sam brought coffee and croissants. They found two chairs in the hall and huddled over their breakfast. Trey had made some racket an hour earlier, enough to arouse the nurses. “Just had a quick meeting with Mr. Bruncardo,” Sam was saying. “He likes to start the week with a seven o'clock ass chewing on Monday morning.” “And today's your day.” “Evidently. He doesn't make any money off the Panthers, but he certainly doesn't like to lose money either. Or games. A rather substantial ego.” “That's rare for an owner.” “He had a bad day. His minor-league soccer team lost. His volleyball team lost. And his beloved Panthers, with a real NFL quarterback, lost for the second time in a row.

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