Sudden Death

by Michael Balkind

  Reid just smiled and said, “No you don’t, sinking that putt was enough. Nice job.” “Thanks. Okay if I joke around now?” Reid smiled and nodded. Phil immediately loosened up and started joking with the crowd, the press, and mostly Reid. They walked into the clubhouse with Reid’s arm over Phil’s shoulder. The cocktail reception was well underway when Reid and Phil entered the lounge. The gathering included Pro-am players and their families, PGA management, representatives from golf equipment companies and many celebrities. Even the president and first lady were there.

  Reid wished he didn’t need to be at this party. He would have preferred just to rest back at the hotel, but he schmoozed with everyone who approached him. He quickly tired of saying thank you, but everyone was congratulating him on the endorsement and the day’s win. Then they would wish him luck in the Master’s.

  Thank you, thank you, thank you. Enough already, he thought, how many times can I say it? At that moment the president and first lady walked up and congratulated him. “Thank you, Mr. President. It is a privilege and pleasure to meet you, and you, ma’am,” he said turning toward the first lady.

  “No, Reid, it is our privilege to meet you!” said the president. “Good luck in the Masters.”

  The first lady said, “Reid, I have really been looking forward to meet ing you. We have been fans of yours for years. By the way, honey,” she said to her husband, “he is much better looking in person than he is on TV.”

  Reid blushed. He couldn’t remember the last time a woman had real ly embarrassed him. The president said, “Reid, I think my wife may be your biggest fan. She has been talking about this trip for over a month. If I may ask, when the tournament is over, could you stay an extra day to play a round with us?”

  Buck had walked up next to Reid just as the president asked the ques tion. Reid looked at Buck and asked, “What do you think, Buck? How about a round of golf with the president and the first lady?”

  Buck turned toward the president and first lady and nonchalantly said, “Sounds great. How are you, Mr. President?” “Excellent, Buck. It’s great to see you again.” “You, too. And you ma’am, it’s always a pleasure.” They were interrupted by the sound of a musical triangle. Bill Taylor and Craig Jackson were at the podium. “Ladies and gentlemen, may I have your attention. If you would all take your seats, it’s time to present today’s trophies and awards. We are honored to have some special guests with us this evening. Please join me in welcoming the president of the United States and the first lady to help with the presentation.”

  As the room erupted in applause, the president turned to Reid and Buck. “Sorry, duty calls. I’m really looking forward to that round of golf, Reid.” The applause grew as the president and first lady made their way up front. Reid realized as they walked away that Secret Service agents were positioned everywhere.

  The president quickly thanked the hosts and the audience and com mented on what a privilege it was to take part in an event of this caliber. “It’s terrific to be in the midst of such a talented crowd. This gathering seems like the ‘Who’s-Who’ of sports and acting, maybe even politics, that is, if I qualify,” he said grinning. He then turned the microphone back to Bill Taylor as the audience laughed quietly.

  Bill announced the fourth, third and second place teams. He congrat ulated them and handed them trophies and checks made out to the charities of their choice.

  He finally announced the winning team of Reid Clark and Phil DiBlasio. Phil went to the podium and thanked the PGA for putting together such a fine tournament. He announced that with his new partner, Reid, he was able to do two things he had never done before. “I played serious golf and I won. Yeah, that’s right, I won! I still can’t believe it.”

  The president handed him an oversized check made out to his founda tion, which helped construct new homes for deserving families.

  Bill Taylor cut the applause short by tapping the microphone. “Reid, please accept this check made out to the The Inner City Sports Foundation.” As Taylor handed Reid the check, a photographer snapped a quick picture. “Folks, I think the ICSF is a pretty special program,” Taylor continued. “In fact, I have been a contributor since its inception. Reid, would you be kind enough to explain ICSF and AllSport to our audience?”

  Reid stepped up to the podium. “Nothing would please me more, Bill. First, I’d like to thank you and the PGA for this contribution to our program.” He held up the check and more pictures were taken. Then, he began immediately, making it evident that this was not a new speech. “Buck and I started The Inner City Sports Foundation a couple of years ago for many reasons, the first and most important being the kids. ICSF provides underprivileged kids, who show professional or Olympic potential, a shot at making something of their lives. Without ICSF, many of these kids would probably never reach their potential. In fact, most would lead a life on the streets or far worse. Another very important reason was that our great country has had a huge untapped resource. With our vast population and the freedom we have, this country should be the world leader in every sport. ICSF will help raise the bar in American sports by providing professional training to kids who will truly make a difference. Until now, these kids did not typically get a chance to bring their talent to our country’s teams. Now, with ICSF’s help, many of those same kids will be the next superstars in American Sports. Our scouts travel the country, looking for kids who have the ability to excel with the right support and training. The training for some is on an individual basis. For others, it takes place at AllSport, the foundation’s camp in the Catskills. AllSport has regulation fields, courts, pools, rinks, gyms, and tracks for practically every sport. The camp owns a huge lake for water sports. We’re close to a river for whitewater kayaking. AllSport even provides training for winter sports at our own mountain. Naturally, there’s also a magnificent golf course and a state-of-the-art golf training facility. I designed it with some friends, and if I must say, we did an excellent job,” he added with a smile. “It’s a long, demanding course and takes a lot of thinking to score well on.”

  Reid saw a hand raised in the middle of the room and pointed toward it. “Yes sir, you have a question?”

  An older gentleman stood up and said, “Yes Reid, thank you. I like the sound of AllSport and I might want to contribute. Can you tell me how you find kids that fit the requirements?”

  “Sure. We advertise and place recruiting brochures and posters in all kinds of places. The ads and brochures encourage hot athletes or their families and friends to call. Our recruiters follow up. We also receive hundreds of letters and e-mails every month from athletes who think they have the right stuff. I make sure every letter gets a response. Does that answer your question?” “Yes sir, thank you,” the man responded as he took his seat. Reid continued. “Pro athletes from every sport volunteer their time as trainers. At any given time, there are about one hundred pros teaching at AllSport. Some of the athletes in this room have been a big help already. In fact, let’s see a show of hands of anyone who has worked with our kids at AllSport.”

  Hands were raised throughout the room. Reid saw a hand go up at a table just in front of him. He waved and said, “Hi Michael.” He scanned the room, slowly pointing to the people with their hands up. “Folks, look around you. If you have questions about our program, these are the people to talk to. With their help and many others like them, AllSport will raise the competitive level of American athletes and teams everywhere we compete.” Reid paused as the audience applauded. He raised his hands in request for quiet and continued. “Athletes, celebrities, corporations and philanthropists in general have made sizeable contributions. The money is used to build, maintain and run the camp, also to employ the staff necessary for recruiting new kids and flying them to and from the Catskills. Most of the kids lead extremely underprivileged lives at home. While they’re at camp, they have to train harder than they ever have before. The kids are immediately taught that they were very lucky to have been chosen by the foundation.
They have to stay out of trouble and lead clean lives if they want to stay in the program. AllSport has now been open for two years and is starting to show results; our kids are being offered scholarships and getting chosen for Olympic teams. It’s really incredible; many of them would probably have ended up in jail or drug rehab. Instead, they’re headed to college or the Olympics, and in some cases, directly recruited by pro teams.”

  Reid paused again to take a sip of ice water from a glass on the podi um. Not until he took a sip did he realize it was someone else’s vodka on the rocks. He fought to refrain from spitting out what was in his mouth as he put the glass down abruptly, splashing the contents all over Bill Taylor’s notes. Looking up at Bill, he said in embarrassment, “Sorry Bill, I hope you memorized the rest of your speech, because I just soaked your notes.” Turning to the audience he added, “I hope that’s the only water I splash this week.”

  After a quick laugh from the audience, Reid finished his explanation. “Folks, this was not meant to be a solicitation, but if you wish to contribute to The Inner City Sports Foundation, you can call or log onto our website to find out how. Buck will leave a stack of his cards at the door for anyone who wants more information. I want to thank you all and the PGA again for this wonderful contribution. Good night.”

  The audience applauded as Reid left the podium, but as he passed, the president politely reached out and stopped him. He asked Reid to come back to the podium with him.

  Leaning toward the microphone, the president said, “Buck, would you please join us?”

  He waited until Buck was next to them. “Ladies and gentlemen, may I have your attention for one more moment. I was not prepared to discuss this, but after listening to Reid, I feel I must. I knew about the ICSF, but I obviously didn’t know enough. I think it’s fantastic. Reid, Buck, accept my sincere congratulations on this endeavor. Reid, you had me fooled. I would never have thought the ‘Bad Boy of Golf’ would be the co-founder of such a selfless, giving and productive program. I’m going to ask our congressional leaders to look into the possibility of a grant for your foundation. It sounds to me like American sports can flourish with the help of the ICSF. I can’t wait to visit AllSport and see this program with my own eyes. Let’s hear it for Reid, Buck and The Inner City Sports Foundation.” The applause was deafening. Reid and Buck thanked the president one more time and left the stage. As they walked and shook hands, Buck whispered to Reid, “Come out to the bathroom with me. I’ve had to pee for the last 10 minutes. I think my eyeballs are floating.” “Sorry pal, it’s not piss that you’re full of,” Reid whispered back. “Hey, at least I’m not the windbag that just took 10 minutes at the podium blowing hot air. Do you have any idea how many calls I’m going to get in my office tomorrow?” “Are you really going to complain about it?” “No, I’m just kidding around; you did a great job up there.” “Glad you noticed.” They shook hands with as many people as they could as they walked out of the room. On the way out, Buck placed a stack of business cards on the maitre d’s table at the door. As usually happened after the speech, Reid and Buck were followed by some big potential contributors, philanthropic people who had the resources to donate millions.

  Stopping them as they reached the lobby, J. Barnes said, “Gentlemen, are tours available at AllSport? I have been looking for an appropriate charity, and I think you just described it. I’d like to see the camp as soon as possible.”

  J. Barnes was the founder and CEO of S-Link, one of the top satellite communications companies in the world. Buck turned to him and said, “Of course, Mr. Barnes, we would be happy to give you a tour anytime you’d like. Here’s my card. Call me and we’ll arrange it.”

  Next to Barnes was Steve McAllister, CEO of the largest sporting goods chain in the country. “Please add me to the list, Buck. I’d also like to speak with you about a possible endorsement offer for Reid.” Buck handed him a business card. As the two men walked away, Reid said, “I’m going to head back to the hotel. I’ve got to turn in.” “Okay. I’m going to stay for awhile and take advantage of your speech.

  The crowd seemed very receptive. I’ll be back soon. Good night.” “See you in the morning.”

  Chapter 6

  The sports segment of the news was on and Reid’s endorsement story was the headline. Melting into the recliner, it suddenly dawned on Reid that he had never called Jennifer. Oh shit, he thought, this is not gonna be fun. He picked up the phone and dialed.

  As usual, Jennifer answered on the second ring. The phone was basi cally an extension of her ear. She never missed a phone call. Sometimes she switched back and forth between conversations on two lines. “Hi honey, how are you?” he asked. “How am I?” she growled. “I’m pissed. What did you expect? You couldn’t call me? I had to find out about the endorsement on the news?” “Look, I’ve got a lot of things going on down here. I’ve been so busy I haven’t had a chance to call. To tell you the truth, right now I don’t have the time or the desire to fight with you. I need to focus on the tournament.”

  “You don’t have the time? Well you better make the time,” she yelled. “Is this how you’re going to treat me when we’re married? You just go ahead and focus on the Master’s, but we need to talk about this later.” Her attitude oozed through the phone.

  Holding the receiver away from his ear to soften her wrath, Reid was becoming annoyed. He was thinking, Why did I even call? The more she ranted, the more irritated he became. Finally, hearing the word married, he snapped. “You know what Jennifer, between the endorsement and the Masters, I’m in the middle of the biggest week of my life. I’m really not in the mood for your crap right now. I’ve wanted that Green Jacket for as long as I can remember, and you are not going to ruin it for me. As far as marriage is concerned, forget it. In fact, why don’t you start looking for a new apartment for yourself? I want you out before I get home next week. If you can’t find a place by then, I’ll stay in a hotel until you do.”

  Jennifer quietly said, “Reid, look I’m sorry for yelling, I was just upset…” “Save it, Jennifer. It’s over. There is nothing more to say.” “But Reid, I love you,” she cried into the phone. “No you don’t. You love my money! In fact, Jennifer, that’s the first time you have ever said you love me, and now it’s too late. We’re over. I want you out of the apartment by the time I get home…understood?” He heard her quietly sobbing on the other end of the line. “Don’t make me ask again.” “Okay, Reid,” Jennifer said through her sniffling. Reid hung up. Great! Now he was all worked up. He was glad that she was out of his life, but breaking up was never easy. The more he thought about her, the more worked up he became. Well, he had not been happy with the relationship for the past month anyway. He knew he was going to end it. Now it was over and he could move on. He flipped through the channels, ending up where he always did, The Food Network. One of his secrets was that cooking always calmed him down. He considered himself a closet gourmet cook. Oh good, he thought. Emeril’s on.

  Buck walked in around 2 a.m. and covered Reid with a blanket. He looked very comfortable sleeping in the recliner. Buck shut off the TV and called for a 7 a.m. wake up call, guessing that Reid hadn’t. He decided to let Reid sleep a little later than usual. The days before a tournament were days of practice, focus and rest. No distractions! He knew Reid well enough to know he would hardly talk to anyone all day. He would put himself into a trance-like state. People would say hello and he would barely notice.

  Buck retired to his room. His body felt like a walking contradiction: totally exhausted yet extremely exhilarated from the negotiations and entertaining. Thinking back, he still felt relieved that no one from Eagle had seen the scathing article in the newspaper. What was it going to take to get Reid to smarten up? If he didn’t stop acting like a child with the paparazzi, he was really going to destroy everything Buck had painstakingly built for him. Buck shook his head and sighed as he realized he was going to have to do whatever it took to convince Reid to grow up once and for all.

/>   Abruptly awakened by the ring of the phone, Reid had two immediate thoughts: Where the hell am I? and I don’t remember requesting a wake up call. He climbed out of the recliner and stretched. Ouch, he was stiff. His neck hurt, his back hurt, hell, everything hurt. He needed a massage and then a soak in the hot tub before going out to practice. He called the spa and scheduled a 9 a.m. massage and another one for 6 p.m.

  He wanted to focus on his chipping today. He had been driving and putting well yesterday, but his short irons needed work. To win this tournament, everything had to be fine-tuned. His ball placement on the green would be critical.

  Reid practiced for two hours before lunch, then another three after. He finished the afternoon feeling ready. Nine out of 10 chips were ending up within three feet of the pin. He could drop three-foot putts with ease. If he could play like this during the tournament, he would be fine. All he needed was a clear mind. He worried that if thoughts of the threats crept into his head during the tournament they could ruin everything.

  He swam some late afternoon laps. No racing, no fanfare, just cool refreshing water washing over his muscular body. Then, after a deep muscle massage, he retired to the suite for the evening. Buck joined him for a light dinner from Room Service, then they sat back and watched a comedy on Pay-Per-View. It had the desired effect; not only did Reid laugh out loud from beginning to end, but not another thought entered his mind during the entire film. Afterward, Buck went down to the bar and Reid went to bed. Lying in bed, he replayed the funniest parts of the film in his mind and chuckled quietly as he drifted off to sleep.

  When morning came, Reid swung his feet to the floor and sat on the edge of the bed. It was 10 a.m. He had been awake for the past half hour, but after such a long, revitalizing slumber, he was too groggy to get up quickly. Luckily, forgetting to place a wake up call was no problem the day before a tournament. He was at the range by 11:30 a.m., feeling very loose, hitting with each club almost perfectly. Buddy just watched and made sure no one got close enough to interrupt. It was relatively quiet at the course. Most players and fans were over at the 9-hole course for the Par 3 Contest. Reid enjoyed the peace and quiet. After half an hour of hitting balls, Reid said, “Come on, let’s go tee off.”