Home Game

by Endre Farkas

  “It’s his music on the stereo,” said Mr. Papp pointing at the portrait. “Beautiful, isn’t it? Liszt’s Hungarian Rhapsody number 2.”

  Tommy listened. It went from slow and simple to fast and toe-tapping, a bit like the Gypsy music he had listened to at Naomi’s. Not really knowing much about classical music, he said yes to be polite.

  “He captures the soul of our people, melancholy and proud. Tamás, please sit.” He pointed to a purplish, corduroy armchair.

  Tommy hesitated. It wasn’t covered in plastic. “I just came from practice and I’m a bit sweaty. I don’t want to mess up your nice chair.”

  “Would you like to take a shower?”

  He was taken aback by the offer. “Thank you, but I didn’t bring clean clothes, so I’ll wait till I get home,” he said.

  “All right then. Sit.”

  Mr. Papp brought out plates of cheese, sliced green peppers, salami and bread. He poured both of them red wine in crystal glasses. Tommy had never been in an adult’s house as a guest. He usually went to adults’ homes with his parents and was treated like their child. This felt strange. It felt grown up.

  “Bull’s Blood,” Mr. Papp said.

  “Huh?” Tommy looked at him in surprise.

  “The wine is Hungarian. It is called Bull’s Blood.”

  “Oh.”

  “Now swirl it gently and sniff it. Like this.”

  He had seen actors like David Niven swirl and sniff their glasses of wine and say something about bouquet or body but Tommy didn’t know what that meant. Mr. Papp watched him swirl and sniff the way a teacher might watch a student answer a question. The wine had a sharp smell.

  “Now taste it. Don’t take a big gulp, just a little, like this,” he said and took a small sip. “Like a sophisticated Natalie Wood.” Tommy followed suit. “What do you think?”

  Tommy didn’t know what to say. He found it a bit acidy. “It’s good.”

  “It’s robust. Now eat. You must be hungry after practice.” He filled Tommy’s plate.

  “Yeah. Coach Hus worked us hard.”

  “From what I hear, and when I watch you boys play, I get the feeling he isn’t the most knowledgeable coach. ‘Hustle’ seems to be his only instruction.”

  Tommy got defensive. “He coached us to the Canadian University championship.”

  “Yes, but that’s because individually, you boys are very good and luckily you play well together. Until that recent rough patch. I think the team is good in spite of him, not because of him.”

  Although what Mr. Papp was saying was probably true, Tommy didn’t like him putting down his coach. “We’re playing well again thanks to him.”

  “Does he know anything about total soccer?” Mr. Papp asked.

  Tommy hesitated. “I don’t think so.”

  “It looks like you don’t either. You should study the game, not just play it. Playing is fine but knowing something about the game is as important. It makes you a better player. Did you know that soccer was invented by the Chinese about 5000 BC? It is believed that the game was brought to England by the Romans about 50 BC. And there is record of a game like soccer being played in England around 800 A.D. Supposedly, they used the head of a Viking.”

  “That’s gross! I didn’t know that,” Tommy said sipping his wine.

  “You should,” Mr. Papp said firmly.

  “Did you find out anything about Debrecen?”

  “Yes,” Mr. Papp said, leaning close as if revealing a great secret. “They play a style, which your coach should be familiar with, but obviously isn’t, called total soccer. It’s a style in which any player, except the goalie of course, can take over the role of any other player on a team. It was invented by Rinus Michels, who was the coach of the Netherlands national team.”

  “What’s special about it?”

  “Total soccer’s success depends on each player being able to quickly switch positions depending on the situation. Players have to be comfortable in multiple positions. It depends on high technical and physical skills.”

  Tommy listened. As Mr. Papp went on, he had a sinking feeling that they were going to be creamed.

  “Hungary, of course, also had a big role creating total soccer in the 1950s. The Communist Party of Hungary, as part of their collectivization plan, gathered all the best players in the league, and put them on one team, Honvéd, that dominated the league. They also became The Mighty Magyars that dominated international soccer. It was because of the best playing together all the time and playing total soccer. Of course, having Puskás made them the best,” Mr. Papp said.

  “I loved that team, especially Puskás.”

  “He was special. All of the Debrecen players are good, which is to be expected,” Mr. Papp said. “But they do have two stars who will probably play in the first division in a couple of years.”

  “Who?” Tommy asked, though he knew who one of them might be.

  “András Könyves, their left inside, but with total soccer he plays everywhere on the field. He does tend to favour hanging around centre field on the right side. He has an advantage there because of his left foot. The defence tends to forget about it. Also, he’s tough.”

  “And the other is their goalie Gábor Földember with his Grosics-like leaps,” Tommy said.

  “How do you know this?” Mr. Papp asked, surprised.

  Tommy smiled. “He’s my cousin. We lived together until my family escaped.”

  “That is amazing, my boy,” Mr. Papp said, placing his hands on Tommy’s. They felt warm and soft. “That’s definitely worth an article in the Hungarian newspaper.”

  Tommy looked at his watch. “Well, thanks for your information. I better go now.”

  “No, you must stay,” Mr. Papp said holding onto his hands. “I want to know all about this.”

  “It’s getting late and I have to work tomorrow, and my parents get worried when I stay out late.”

  “Call them and tell them you won’t be too late. I really do need to hear this story.”

  Tommy’s mother answered the phone. He had told his parents that he was going to get some information about the Debrecen team from Mr. Papp but when he told his mother that he was at Mr. Papp’s house, she shouted, “Get home right now!”

  “I won’t be too long,” he said.

  “No. Now!” she commanded in her no-argument voice.

  “I have to go now, Mr. Papp. My mother insists. I have to get up at six.”

  “Very well. Mothers must be obeyed.” He smiled. “But you have to tell me the rest before you go to Hungary so I can write about it.” He clasped Tommy’s hand with both of his. His eyes had a sadness in them. He seemed lonely.

  “I will. I’ll come by the store soon. Thanks for all this information and the food and wine. I guess we have a lot of work to do.”

  “Yes, you do.”

  32

  “Shit, I shouldn’t have told him about total soccer,” Tommy said, throwing his cleat at the dressing room wall.

  “Cool it,” Speedy said. “We’ll get it.”

  “I don’t like this style. I like our style. It works for us.”

  “Since when are you afraid of trying something new?”

  Tommy glared at him. Speedy stared back as hard but with the faintest smile.

  “The practices are crazy,” Tommy told his father as he slumped down on the TV room couch. “He had us playing unfamiliar positions. Speedy and I were playing fullbacks. We were all over the place. I’m exhausted.”

  “God not only gave you feet but also brains. Bring them together.”

  “Go shower and get ready for supper,” his mother yelled from the kitchen.

  Coach Hus wanted them to be comfortable in different positions. “Get used to being all over the field, feel at home wherever you are; fullbacks up front, forwards in the back
field. Also, think and act like the opposition. Familiarity breeds anticipation. Anticipate,” he repeated over and over again. Almost as much as “hustle.”

  Tommy didn’t have strong defensive skills. That required a reactive nature. All his playing had been as a forward. He was used to making the first move. His reactive time was wrong. He missed tackles, was a step late in getting to the ball, and wasn’t as quick moving backwards. Even Ivan the Terrible managed to get past him. “Anticipate,” Coach Hustle kept yelling at him. Tommy wasn’t used to being told that he wasn’t playing well. He didn’t like it.

  He was still grouchy when he left for Naomi’s.

  “Not late,” his mother said.

  “Yeah, yeah.” He was out the door before she could say another word.

  He hadn’t seen or spoken to Marianne since last week. He was constantly thinking about her. Even while sitting at the button machine at the factory, repetitively placing buttons in slots, aligning the holes, stepping on the pedal, listening to the explosion of the machine as the needle jab-jabbed the fabric, he wondered if she was thinking of him as she stabbed patients and drew blood.

  Marianne called blood the wine of life. He was the one in university, but she was the one with deep insights. Last week, in his modern poetry class, his professor asked him for his interpretation of a line of poetry. Tommy gave it to him but also asked if the poet consciously intended all the symbolism that the critics claimed he did.

  “Only two kinds of people ask that question. Idiots and the intelligent,” the professor had said, leaving it at that. The class laughed. Tommy blushed and remained silent after that.

  Marianne would have blown him away. He smiled thinking how the class would wilt under her bold stare and snappy comebacks. He gazed out the bus window, watching the world come and go. He got off and walked quickly to Naomi’s. He was eager to see Marianne. He was always eager to see her.

  “So, what have you libbers been up to?” he asked as he passed the joint to Naomi.

  “I went to the Prague again. Artie Gold was reading. God, he’s good.”

  Tommy was surprised that she had gone without him. It hadn’t occurred to him that she would do that. He felt hurt. Aside from practice, he hadn’t been out these days. He couldn’t say why but he felt it was wrong of her to do that.

  “With who?” he asked. He knew it didn’t come out right as soon as he said it.

  “With whom,” she corrected him with a smile. “I called myself up and asked me out. And I said ‘yes.’”

  Naomi laughed.

  “I meant that I would have gone with you,” he said.

  “I only saw the poster for the reading on the way home from work and decided to go on the spur of the moment. He’s good. I spoke to him after.”

  She sounded like a groupie.

  “He invited a bunch of us over to his place. He’s got bookcases of poetry. He also has an incredible collection of rocks and bottles. He gave me a beautiful bottle.”

  “Huh?”

  She pointed to an angular-cut clear glass ink bottle on the coffee table.

  “He has a fascination with rocks and bottles. His bedroom has all kinds of weird bottles.”

  “You went into his bedroom?” he almost shouted.

  “If you had a bedroom, she might go into yours,” Naomi joked.

  “Yes, I did. And he did come on to me.”

  “I’ll kill that fucker.”

  “You sound just like Speedy,” Naomi said. She lit a cigarette and sat, back enjoying the show.

  “Stay out of this.”

  “Hey, it’s my place. I’m here, I’m free to butt in.”

  “He came on to every girl there,” Marianne said with a laugh.

  “And?”

  “And I said no thanks, I have a macho boyfriend who’d kill him.”

  “You told him that?”

  “No. I told him I had a man.”

  “Huh?” Tommy stared at her. Though she was sitting on the couch she seemed miles away.

  “Listen, I can take care of myself. I want to be able to take care of myself. I want to come and go as I please. I told my parents that I’m moving in with Naomi.”

  He didn’t know what to say or do. He felt as outnumbered, outflanked and overwhelmed as he had on the field a few hours earlier. “When?” he finally asked.

  “I told them last night that I was tired of the long bus rides back and forth. And since I’m going to be taking more dance classes it would make more sense if I lived closer to where I worked. I’m working, I can afford my share of the rent.”

  “How did they take it?”

  “What do you think? My mother went crazy. My father forbade it. Both worried about my honour and the family’s honour. It was a full-blown explosion. The kind only we Gitanos are capable of. Our family is good at that. It was pretty bad, everybody screaming and crying. I was scared and was ready to give in.”

  “So, what happened?”

  “Speedy came to my defence.”

  “What?”

  “He told them that if they raised me right, then I would be okay. He told them that they needed to trust me and that times were different now. And after that, when we were alone, he told me that he had spoken with Naomi.”

  “What?” Tommy looked in disbelief at Naomi.

  “Yeah, he came by a week ago. He asked me not to tell anybody. He apologized for his behaviour. We had a long talk about stuff. He’s not such a dumb jock. After his parents’ big blow-up, he called me and invited me to meet them. More like a chance for his parents to check me out. It was awkward. You would have thought that I was a prospective son-in-law.” She laughed and rolled another joint.

  “I guess you passed the test.”

  “I guess I did. So, you better watch yourself or I’ll report you.”

  “Do they know about me, about us?”

  “Hey, one thing at a time,” Marianne said, taking a deep toke.

  33

  “I want to take a trip with you.”

  Tommy was surprised. Marianne had never mentioned wanting to go anywhere.

  “Where do you want to go?”

  “Inner space!”

  “What are you talking about?”

  “An acid trip.”

  He turned on his side to look at her. She was staring at the cracks in the ceiling. Her hair cascading down the pillow made Tommy imagine her floating. “Are you crazy? That’s heavy shit. Acid can make you permanently crazy. People don’t come back from those trips. And it gets you hooked.”

  When she sat up, the sheet fell, exposing her breasts. She didn’t try to cover up. He was amazed how comfortable she was with him. He still put on his underwear under the sheets before getting out of bed.

  “It’s not true. I spoke with a doctor friend at the hospital and he said that it’s a hallucinogenic but not addictive. It doesn’t make you crazy. He said that you enter another dimension, another level of consciousness.”

  He was just getting used to grass, and now, this. She made him crazy. She was always pushing limits. She was always pushing him. It made him angry and scared. It made him love her even more.

  “What if something goes wrong?” he asked, stroking her hair. He loved the thickness of it. He grabbed a clump and pulled her towards him.

  She kissed him and pushed herself back up. “He told me to call him if something goes wrong.”

  “You’re crazy! And besides, where would we get the stuff?”

  “He gave me a couple of hits. It’s Owsley Monterey Purple. He tested it and said it was clean.”

  Again, Tommy felt like an ignoramus next to her, but he knew she wasn’t just showing off or trying to make him look stupid. So he asked, “Who’s Owsley?”

  “Owsley is a chemist in Frisco who makes it. He puts an owl design on his pills. It’s h
is logo. My friend trusts it.”

  “He took it?”

  “Yes.”

  “And?”

  “And he’s still sane and a doctor.”

  Why was she doing this? “When do you want to do it?” he asked, hoping he didn’t sound scared.

  “Before you leave.”

  “We’re leaving next Friday.”

  “I know. So how about Sunday?”

  “Tomorrow?”

  “Yes.”

  “Is Naomi taking it too?”

  “No, she said that she would stay straight, just in case.”

  “That sounds reassuring.”

  She laughed and rolled over onto him. “I want it to be just the two of us. It lasts about eight hours, so can you be here for around brunch?”

  He felt himself panicking. What if he freaked out and went crazy? His parents would go nuts. He’d be tied up in a straitjacket and taken to the insane asylum. He wouldn’t be able to go to Hungary.

  “Can’t we wait until I come back?”

  “I want to do it with you before you leave,” she said, sliding her fingers down his chest and under the sheets.

  34

  “I’m going to hang out with some friends today,” he told his parents. “I won’t see them for a while.”

  “Are you going to see your girlfriend?”