Chapter 6 Serious Players Only
Serious Players Only
Jonah
“Finish strong,” Coach Batsakis yells, right as our hooker throws in the ball for a lineout. It’s our last phase of practice, and we’ve been run ragged tonight.
I’m lined up in the backline, playing fly-half.
I’ve played all over the field—I’m what they call a utility player, which just means I can play any position, and I also say yes to everything.
But since all my brothers are forwards, they constantly roast me for being a back.
The forwards versus backs rivalry is as old as the game itself.
Forwards are the big, rough-and-tumble dudes who do all the hitting and lifting and grunting.
They love smashing into people and rolling around in the mud.
Total chaos. Backs like me are the fast ones who allegedly care too much about our hair and keeping our kits free of grass stains.
Whatever. Someone has to swoop in and score all the points.
There’s always beef. Forwards think we’re lazy and pretty. Backs think forwards are slow and dramatic. But hey, someone’s gotta hang out wide, wait for the ball, and make the magic happen. That’s me. Just out here, doing my thing, looking hot, and running fast.
You’d think as a utility player I wouldn’t fall victim to the rivalry, but no—whatever position I’m playing, I adopt the mockery. I like to fit in, okay?
Our jumper tips the ball and tosses it to Small Fry, who immediately passes it to Jimmy (a.k.a. my brother-in-law, Raf), who runs it several yards before offloading it to me to get out wide. By the time the ball makes it down to Wheels at winger, he finds a gap in the D line and scores.
Coach blows the whistle, and everyone joins him at midfield to stretch out. “Alright, boys. Good practice today. While you stretch out, I want to fill you in on where we are with the Premier League. As you know, we’ve been trying to level up to the eastern Premiership for a decade now.”
We have?
“We’ve always been close, but it’s never been enough.
Going premier will not look the same as Division 1.
The team needs players who live, breathe, and sleep rugby.
Players who want to win and to see the team grow.
We need big donors and sponsorships, but most importantly, we need commitment from you all.
If you want to play for funsies, go join a different team in this city—there are several.
“Thanks to a certain Johanssen brother’s fiancé, we have secured the largest sponsorship to date with Castle Whiskey.”
Applause breaks loose and someone whistles. Isaiah isn’t even part of the team anymore since he medically retired last year, but everyone knows who he is, and most remember when he was captain of this team.
“Yes,” Coach chuckles. “That was a tremendous relief, but it won’t be enough.”
A lightbulb goes off in my mind, because hey... I have lots of money!
I turn to Dane, who’s stretching his hammies, and slap his shoulder. Wordlessly, I shoot him a super subtle, brother-only communication through our minds.
“Ow,” he hisses. “What was that for?”
I’m about to whisper in his ear, but Coach cuts me off. “JoJo, save the side convos for after.”
I wince. “Sorry, Coach.”
He sighs before continuing his speech, but I zone out, thinking about how I have the easiest solution to our problem. Why didn’t I think of this sooner? I chuckle to myself because it’s just like a back to swoop in and save the day, isn’t it?
As everyone packs up their bags to head home, I pull Raf and Dane to the side. “Guys, why don’t I just give the team the money we need?”
Raf gives Dane a look I can’t decipher as a long pause settles between the three of us.
“You haven’t talked to him yet?” Raf asks Dane.
“Talk to me about what?”
“Listen, bro.” Dane pulls at the back of his neck. “We know you have the money to do this for the team, but we don’t think it’s a good idea.”
“Why not?”
“Coach and I discussed current players and who should realistically move up to the Premiership, and who should remain and only play for our tourney team.”
The Philadelphia Men’s Rugby Team is large.
It’s composed of three teams: Division 1, Division 3, and a wheelchair rugby team.
But during the summer, after regular season play is over, we turn into the Philly Fathers (a.k.a.
the Daddies)—a social, sevens, tournament-only team.
We wear ridiculous jerseys and drink on the sidelines.
Think of people partying on a pontoon boat that’s blasting yacht rock.
That’s kind of the vibe we bring to the table—er, pitch.
“Only the tourney team? Wait, what happens to the D1 and 3 teams?”
Raf shrugs. “They’re being dissolved, dude. Didn’t you listen to Coach?”
Oops.
“If you want to keep playing Division 1,” Dane says, “you’ll need to join another club.”
“Why would I join another club? I’m going to play with you guys in the Premiership.”
Dane sighs, “No, you’re not. That’s what I was trying to say. Coach and I don’t think you’re serious enough for that level.”
“But I’m one of the fastest players on the team! I can play any position!”
“But you’re not committed, dude. You’re always late to practice, you don’t listen, and you fall back on the plays you have the muscle memory for.”
Raf places his hand on my shoulder. “Being in great shape isn’t gonna cut it.”
I study him. “How are you even going to make Premiership work? You’re a CFO for two companies and a father.”
“And yet,” he drawls, “I make it to practice on time.”
I groan.
“Truth is,” he continues, “I’m probably going to quit one job.”
I turn back to Dane. “Come on...”
“This is why we didn’t approach you about donating to the team,” Dane says. “We knew you’d be salty about it, and we don’t blame you. But we need serious players, Jonah—”
“I can be serious,” I blurt. I don’t care how desperate I sound because I am.
It’s not enough to play rugby for just any team.
I want to play with my brothers. This has always been a thing that has united us as a family.
Playing in a pre-teen rock band was the first thing that brought us together.
But rugby, playing on the same fields with a common goal, was something I wanted more than anything with my older brothers, including Raf.
I looked up to them all. What started as me, their annoying little brother tagging along for everything, turned into a mutual respect on the pitch.
At least, I thought it was mutual respect.
“Let me prove myself,” I vow.
Dane gives me a disbelieving look. “I have been trying to get you to commit ever since I became captain, Jo. Isaiah tried to do the same thing when he was captain. Why should I trust that this time is different?”
Because the threat of losing this connection with you guys really freakin’ hurts, I think to myself. But I don’t say that because that’s way too vulnerable.
“I... I don’t know, okay? I don’t know how I’m gonna do it, but I’m going to. Please don’t kick me off the team. And I want to fund everything else.”
“But we can’t be beholden to your money,” Raf says.
Huh? “What does beholden mean?”
“It means we would feel like we have our hands tied to keep you on the team if you were a major donor.”
“Oh. Um... okay. But I still wanna give the team money even if that means I don’t make the Premiership team. Can we like, make a contract or something?”
Raf looks pleasantly surprised. “Look at you. Learning a thing or two from all those lawyers.” He turns to gauge Dane’s reaction. “What are you thinking?”
Dane narrows his eyes at me for a long time, and I don’t dare interrupt his assessment. I just hope my puppy-dog pout is doing the trick. “Fine.”
“Yes!” Relief washes over me before I wrap my brothers in a hug.
“You have this summer and fall season to prove yourself. And I don’t want to just see you arriving on time. No excuses. I want to see you improving yourself and others.”
“I can do that!”
“We have a lot of games to win, and every point counts toward leveling up. I need you to be dedicated to your position.”
“And,” Raf adds. “You’ll have to donate to the team anonymously. No one can know, remember?”
“I’ll talk to my lawyer first thing in the morning!”
“Put a plan together, JoJo,” Dane says.
Planning has never really been my strong suit, but if this is what I have to do to stay on the team with my brothers, then a plan is what I’ll make.
By the time we finish our conversation and grab our bags, the rest of the team has left.
As we walk to the parking lot, I take inventory of our surroundings.
We play outside in a public park, but the field isn’t exactly well-kept.
I know the team sinks money into covering what the public parks and recreation department can’t.
On more than one occasion, we’ve found used needles on the field.
The team has always dreamed of having its own indoor training facility. A pipe dream, really. But if someone is already secretly donating money...
“Hey Raf?” I smile.
He stops. “Yeah?”
“What if an anonymous donor, me,” I stage-whisper the last word, “donated funds specifically for a dedicated training facility?”
The second that thought sinks in, excitement bursts over his features, and he’s looking at Dane.
“How much would something like that cost?” he asks Raf. Of the three of us, Raf would know more about real estate prices.
He looks to the night sky, tossing his head back and forth, crunching the numbers. “If we renovated, probably something just outside the city, I’d say at least a couple million.”
The three of us exchange looks of varying giddiness.
But the warning words of my lawyers and siblings bring me down. “Oh wait, I’m not supposed to spend my money all willy-nilly.”
Dane puts up his hand. “Hold on.” He flicks his gaze to Raf. “You said ‘renovated?’ We’d buy something that needs work...” he says, as if he’s trying to convince himself. “Something that could build the community.”
Raf smirks. “The city offers tax breaks for beautification projects.”
“So, we can do this?” I beam.
“I think it’s worth exploring,” Raf says.
“Yes,” Dane and I say in unison.
“Can I hire your company?” I ask Raf.
“I think Jimenez Brothers Properties may have room for something like that. But you’ll need to get other quotes. Everything stays above board and is as transparent as possible. Except for who’s donating the cash.”
“Of course!”
“I’ll talk to the rugby board at our meeting this week,” Dane says. “Jonah, confirm with your lawyers what you can donate and we’ll go from there.”
“This is gonna be so cool!” I squeal.
Raf throws his arm around me for a hug before sliding into his Range and giving us a wave.
When Dane and I get to our vehicles, I glance over and notice he’s resting his head on his steering wheel.
I’m flying high with possibilities, but his shoulders are too close to his ears, and worry nips at me.
He looks especially grouchy for someone who has a shot at premiership rugby and a dedicated club training facility.
Is he still worried I won’t see my commitments through?
I tap on his window, and he rolls it down. “You okay, bro? I swear I’m gonna try.”
“It’s not that,” he mutters. “I just checked my voicemail. One of my farmer clients wants me to put down a perfectly good horse this week.”
“Why?”
He sighs. “Because she’s old and blind, therefore no use to him.”
“Oh.” I frown.
Poor Dane. This has to be the hardest part of being a veterinarian.
“Do you do that kind of thing a lot? I know you do it for dogs and cats when it’s their time. But farm animals?”
“Yeah,” he says, shrugging. “I try to re-home those animals to the best of my ability, especially when there’s nothing really wrong with them. But sometimes nothing works out.”
“I can take the horse.”
He furrows his brow. “Did you put any thought into that before speaking?”
“Um... Honestly, no.” Dane opens his mouth to say something, but I cut him off, spilling my thoughts in real-time. “But it would be perfect! I have space, a barn with stables, and two dogs who need more livestock to guard. They’re getting possessive over the ducks. They need more to take care of.”
When Dane stares at me, I can see the wheels turning behind his eyes. “I don’t know...” he says.
Shoot. How do I convince him more? Dane is a total softy on the inside, so I play into that.
“Come on. Are you really gonna euthanize a sweet granny horse just because she’s blind, when I have the space and protection she needs?”
His eyes narrow. “She needs love, too.”
“I can love her!”
Dane crosses his arms. “She could live another eight to ten years.”
I cross mine back. “I’m not going anywhere.”
“She’ll need regular veterinary care.”
“Good thing my brother is a vet. C’mon. I need to take responsibility, right? A horse is a big deal, I get it. But I can do it.”
Silence lingers as we face off under the parking lot lamplight. He bites his lip the way he always does when he’s about to make a hard decision.
“Fine. I’ll talk to the farmer and arrange the transport.”
“Yeah!”
“But I’m serious, Jonah. There’s a lot to know about taking care of a horse.”
“Well, I don’t have a job anymore, so I have the time to learn.”
The corner of his mouth quirks up the smallest bit, and I savor the satisfaction. “Okay,” he concedes. “I’ll call you tomorrow.” He swallows. “Thanks, Jonah. This is really nice of you.”
Dane isn’t one to serve up appreciation like this, so I find myself pleased as punch to be the one receiving it. I just hope I can show him I can be responsible, and that I’m worthy of his trust and appreciation again.