Chapter 12 #3
One of those calls was to Brian Dennis. They hadn’t spoken to or seen each other for days.
He’d been on edge since he signed the contract to be spokesperson for the Dr. Oki Fund.
The contract had been cleared through his agent and the Celtics organization with only minor changes.
She hoped to see him every time she visited Lindy.
But the only ones she ever ran into were Lindy’s maternal grandparents—and Paul Paris.
She sat in the hostess chair on the set of Interesting People.
She would love to see Brian again, even before her party.
But with his schedule and the way he was throwing himself into basketball after the bad press he got for the awful game he’d played the day he signed the contract with her, she wasn’t sure he’d even come to her party.
The talent approached with a nervous smile.
She smiled back. She would call Brian and convince him to accept the invitation.
Roxanne stood and extended her hand to welcome the anxious man to the stage.
It was part of her job to put the talent at ease.
She took pride in the fact that she was particularly good at it.
The man was Pat Banyan, sports writer for the Boston Herald. Roxanne had dutifully read all his columns for the past several weeks in anticipation of the interview. He wrote special articles on all the Boston sports teams, but mostly covered baseball and basketball.
This past week he’d written a particularly scathing piece about the Celtics and Brian Dennis. Roxanne glanced at the list of questions she had prepared to ask Mr. Banyan. They both took their chairs. I’m going to make you pay Mr. Banyan, for those nasty things you said about Brian Dennis.
“What makes Pat Banyan qualify as an interesting person?” Roxanne asked her imaginary audience through the lens of the camera. Lounging back, legs crossed, she turned to the man.
His smile was weak. She could see beads of sweat forming on his balding scalp.
“I’ll tell you what I find very interesting, Mr. Banyan.” She looked down at the papers on her lap, pulled up the top sheet and held it up for a camera close-up. It was a recent back cover sports page of the Boston Herald with the banner headline reading “Brian Dennis Where Are You?”
The man chuckled and was about to say something, but Roxanne cut him off. She hoped the director wouldn’t stop her.
“Mr. Banyan, this article goes on and on in the style of the headline, accusing Brian Dennis of not coming to play. Don’t you find it a bit premature, only six weeks into the season, to crucify the man?
He’s a veritable living legend who’s played his heart out season after season for his fans.
” She stopped and waited for his reply with her TV camera smile in place, leaning back in her chair.
“You would be right if it were someone else. Gloomy accusations at this juncture would be too soon for anyone else, but not for Brian Dennis…”
“You perceive Brian Dennis to be somehow different than the rest of us?”
“Yes, of course. You said it yourself. He’s a living legend. That’s how he got his legendary status in the first place—by being inhumanly perfect. In the sports arena, that is.” The man’s words sounded too much like Brian’s own. But then so what? It was all a bunch of hogwash.
“Excuse me for saying so, but legendary or not, what you are saying amounts to accusing a human being of being human. Do you think we expect too much of our sports heroes? Perhaps casting them in superhuman roles in which they are destined to fail? The media seems to love hoisting their darlings of the sports world high onto a pedestal, only so it will be more fun to knock them off when they inevitably falter.” Roxanne stopped speaking. She waited for his response.
He looked at her with a furrowed brow, and then turned to the production manager. “You didn’t tell me this was going to be some kind of skewering of the sports media. I ain’t going to sit here and take the heat for telling it like it is about her boyfriend.”
The director shrugged his shoulders and spread his hands looking back at Roxanne as if helpless. This was his game. He pretended to have no control of her. Pat Banyan rose, took a last look over his shoulder at her and walked off the stage muttering. “The man’s crazy, stark raving mad…”
Roxanne stood.
“I guess this means you’re too afraid to ‘tell it like it is’ on camera.
You only do that in print where no one can argue back.
Come on Mr. Banyan, don’t be such a baby.
” She stood with her hands on her hips and watched him stop dead, precisely when she’d said the word “baby.” He turned and stalked back.
“Okay. If it’s a fight you want, it’s a fight you’ll get. That’ll be the day I let some broad like you out-tough me. No more of this polite crap.” He stepped back up onto the set and she smiled.
“Now you’re cooking. But please remember, this is family television, Mr. Banyan.”
“Okay, take it from where you left off. Pat, it’s your response…quiet…roll…okay, Pat…” The director pointed at the man.
“The media only writes about the facts. It’s the fans that decide who belongs on a pedestal and who doesn’t.
I would certainly not judge Brian Dennis.
I think he’s just another guy—who happens to be phenomenally talented at basketball—and phenomenally well paid.
My expectation of him would be the same, no matter what job he was doing—basketball or street cleaning.
You show up to work, do what you get paid to do, and do your best at it. ”
“Those are certainly commendable words to live by, Mr. Banyan. I’m sure street cleaners everywhere are extremely thankful that you don’t write articles about the cleanliness of the streets.
But I guess we aren’t all perfect. Now and then we all goof up, slack off, and generally behave as humans do.
Even you. I would think after nine years of superlative performance that Brian Dennis would be allowed his humanity, especially under the circumstances.
He’s obviously under a lot of stress with his daughter in the hospital.
Does he really deserve such harsh feedback from you? ”
“We don’t all get paid the amount of money he does.
Besides, he never cared about his daughter before, so I’m not going to buy that excuse.
Professional athletes are servants of the public.
The fans buy the tickets and so they own a piece of the athletes.
They have a right to an opinion. They buy their rights to speak their mind when they buy that ticket.
And when they buy the paper and turn to the sports page they expect the facts—and more—a thoughtful, well-informed analysis of the facts based on similar values and goals that they have. ”
“And what goals are these?”
“Only one that matters. They want their team to win. Everything is judged with respect to that one and only goal—winning.” His eyes were bright.
His expression bordered on feverish. Roxanne decided it was time for a break and signaled to the production manager.
She knew Pat didn’t know the tapes stopped rolling.
She looked at him, leaning forward and said, “Did anyone ever tell you that you’re a pompous ass?” as if she were asking about the weather.
He blinked, staring at her and then looking around as scattered laughter erupted from the production crew.
“What the hell? What’s going on?” He stood when Roxanne laughed too.
“Don’t worry, Pat. It’s just a joke to put you at ease,” she said.
The production manager went over to him, giving a menacing stare over his shoulder at Roxanne as he escorted Pat off the stage. “Ten minute break, everyone.”
Roxanne stood and stretched and decided she better not antagonize the man any further lest he take out his vengeance with another article crucifying Brian. She wondered if Brian read this stuff and thought he must. How could anyone resist reading about themselves—even if it was bad news.
She picked up her list of questions and decided she’d ask Mr. Banyan about his experiences doing Olympic coverage.
The rest of the interview went smoothly, though uninspired.
As Roxanne gathered up the research material for her next guest before heading home, she couldn’t help returning to the thought that they would have to do something more inspired than they had been if they wanted to retain the audience share they had grabbed with the Brian Dennis interview a month ago.
Even talking about Brian like in today’s taping would probably inspire more calls than normal.
She couldn’t wait to find out after the show aired.
Her plans for the children’s Christmas party at the hospital had been delayed. That was one of the things she enjoyed most about Christmas—getting involved with making those kids happy—and the hospital’s party never failed to work its magic. Not since the first time when she’d been a teenager.
Maybe Brian could make an appearance as part of his spokesperson contract.
At least then he’d see he wasn’t wasting his precious time.
If that pompous sports reporter had seen how difficult it was to give away even a little of himself to anything but basketball he wouldn’t be so quick to judge Brian.
No, then he’d probably have criticized him for not giving his time to charity.
How much do they think these people have to go around, anyway?
She knew only too well how scant a personal life Brian Dennis had.
She got behind the wheel of her car and had to admit to herself that he couldn’t be a spokesperson to solicit money at a Christmas party that took place in the hospital. Unless…
That was it. She slapped her hands on the steering wheel, grabbed her briefcase, got out of the car, and ran back into the studio.
Stopping on the threshold of the producer’s open door, she stood and waited until Harry looked up from his computer at her.