06-29-2009

Start Fiction:


     "I am the quarterback for the Miami Dolphins," Stan said.
     "That's great," Frank said, "but, I have to admit I don't follow much soccer."
     Stan choked on his drink, wiped his mouth. "The Dolphins are a professional football team," he said as he sat up straight. "The NFL."
     "Of course," Frank said blushing. "I guess I don't follow much football, either!" He laughed and took a drink of his soda. "What does the quarterback do, exactly?" he said peeking over the top of his glass.
     Stan stared at Frank. Several seconds passed before he blinked. He looked around, trying to spot any hidden cameras, waiting for Carol and Anne to jump out and yell 'surprise'. He looked back at Frank sitting there waiting attentively.
     "OK. Well then, lets see I run the offense; call plays, make adjustments to the other teams defense, pass the ball, among other things."
     "So, you are the leader?" Frank asked as he shoved his mouth full of spaghetti.
     "That depends on who you ask. Typically the quarterback is one of the team leaders," Stan tried to explain checking his watch. "I guess in some respects I am the coach on the field, relay what I am seeing to the coaching staff and in the end I get to make the final call at the line."
     Frank put his elbows on the table, leaned forward and rested his chin on his hand. "Interesting," he said. "How long have you done this?"
     "This will be my tenth season with the Dolphins," Stan said.
     "Do you ever get hurt getting hit all the time?" Frank asked.
     "I try to avoid getting hit, but I have taken my share of licks, earning a couple of concussions," Stan told him.
     "You must really love your job," Frank said, stuffing a bread stick in his mouth.
     "Yes I do, very much." He waived to the waiter for his check. "There isn't anything else I would rather do." He looked for the girls, but they were no where in sight.
     "So, did you have to go to college to be in football?"


End Fiction.