The Billionaire Bull

by Romi Hart

  I shake my head, staring at him. Not having the damndest clue what to say.

  “Just tell Jiggur I’m sorry,” Scott says apologetically. I’m not going to press charges. It was my fault anyway. It was a stupid thing to do. Immature, desperate. Creative though, you got to give me that.”

  “God damn it, Scott. I’m not going to let you ruin our friendship this way, okay?”

  “Okay…” he grumbles.

  “You just sit there and think about what you did. Soon you’re going to realize how idiotic it was to pretend to be the guy who ruined my life. Okay? You’re not him, Scott, nothing like him.”

  "I know. And that abusive asshole is the one who won your heart, right? But never a guy like me. Never a nice guy, guys like us…never even a chance. I know how it goes."

  I look at Scott in lip-wrinkling angst. So much to say to him. Feel like smacking him repeatedly on his sore shoulder! Instead, I’ll just leave him with this.

  “I know you’re upset right now. Let me just say this. That girl who fell for Rory all those years ago is dead. Mmmkay? God rest her soul. I hated that weak girl. I hated everything about her. You’re not just too good to be my ex, Scott. You’re too good to have wanted that old me. There was nothing about her worth wanting. You deserve someone better.”

  “I wanted the You of today…”

  “Yeah well…” I say in shame, “Nothing that great about her either.”

  Nate

  Shit! There's no time left! Manning can't catch from that far. Jones is way out of reach. Beaumont is open but in about five-seconds he's going to get clobbered.

  This is the moment of truth. If we’re going to win this game and make a touchdown I have to take a run. I’m not a runner…but I think I got this.

  Fake pass!

  I take the ball in hand and run like the wind!

  "Eat my shit motherfuckers!" I scream as I shove two defensive players out of my way. I'm running all the way to end! Passed the forty yard line! Keep going!

  I hear the crowd screaming their heads off. If I make this touchdown from that far away I’m going to go in the history books. Jiggur – the best quarterback and runner of all time!

  I run faster and shove some fat motherfucker off me…keep going. Don’t look back now. This is for all the gold…I win this play I retire, I swear to god, I will retire!

  This is my destiny!

  I see the touchdown line and I skip my ass as fast as possible, jumping and stepping like my body doesn’t even exist. Just a few more yards and I’ve won—I’ve fucking won!

  FUCK! THAT’S TOMMY HOSS – defensive end zone coming straight for my face!

  I wake up in the hospital bed…sore as the pope’s asshole after Taco Bell. I don’t know why I always got a pope joke but damn that makes me giggle every time.

  Where exactly did I get spiked anyway? I feel sore but don’t seem to feel my legs or my chest. And yet I can barely move.

  "Hello, Mister Jiggur."

  "Hey man…what happened? It was Hoss, wasn't it? He fucked me up good."

  "Watch your language. If you're referring to the Play-Off game…yeah. You were sacked right before the line. You barely saw it coming."

  “Damn…well did we win?”

  “Mister Jiggur…you didn’t just lose the game. You died.”

  “What?” I say, a little confused. Then I laugh merrily. “What the hell you talking about, dude?”

  “I’m sorry.”

  “You are sorry. A sorry punk ass prankster. Let me out of here. I can walk.”

  “Can you?” the mystery man says.

  “Yeah just unfasten these straps.”

  “There are no straps, Mister Jiggur. You’re free to go. If you can…”

  I smile reluctantly…but just like the man says, I can’t seem to move.

  “What the fuck…let me out of here.”

  “Let yourself out,” he says calmly.

  My smile softens into a frown. Then into sheer terror. I can’t move…I can’t move but nothing is holding me back.

  “JEEEESUS-!” I scream, looking down and realizing I have no legs.

  “FUCK FUCK FUCK!”

  No, God no. Let me go back! Let me go back! I can’t be dead…I can’t be dead. This isn’t real. This isn’t real. I haven’t done enough. My life was just beginning!

  Tears drip from my face like a faucet. That seems weird…I didn’t know I could cry so unnaturally like that.

  This isn’t heaven…this is the other place…this is HELL. Oh My GOD no, send me back! Send me back!

  “It’s too late Nate. Your life is over.”

  I scream myself awake wiggling around in the hospital, trying to feel my legs.

  “My legs, my legs!”

  I take a deep breath as Amanda stands over me, a tear rolling down her face.

  “Nate, are you awake? Do you remember me?”

  “Amanda…” I say sluggishly. “I remember…I remember.”

  I relax my frantic breathing as Amanda kisses my forehead. I feel the body heat from her face and neck and it calms me. I look down at my legs in horror…

  But they’re still there. Oh thank God. Thank God I’m alive. And still have my health.

  “What happened?” I say, barely able to form a sentence.

  “You had a head injury out on the field. You were all over the news,” Amanda says tiredly. “You woke up yesterday but you didn’t remember anything. We were kind of wondering if that would be permanent. But no…should have realized you’re much too egotistical to forget you’re Nate Jiggur.”

  I smile. My voice is weak but I can move around with great effort.

  "I had the freakiest dream. Did we win the Play-Offs?"

  “No, sorry,” Amanda says. “You were sacked right before you won. You lost. And then taken to a hospital.”

  “Wait…why are you here?” I shift around nervously, fearing the worst. “Another hallucination. The real Amanda hates me. I remember now…”

  “No,” she says, tensing her face and fighting back tears. “I don’t hate you. And this is real. When I heard you were in emergency care I had to come see you. YES, I was still mad at you. But I was scared to death something might happen. I had to wait for hours while reporters and coaches swarmed the hospital. But they finally let me in to see you.”

  “Really?”

  “Yes, Nate. No other family came.”

  “Nah, why would they…” I say resentfully. “Besides my mom, no one else cared. No one else gave a shit about me, except what I could buy them.”

  “Because, you idiot! You chase everyone away, that’s just what you do. And I should know, right?”

  “I’m sorry…” Nate says. “It was stupid…what I did to your friend.”

  “Yes it was. But between the both of you, he got off pretty easy. Scott joked that you were just trying to steal attention away from him, since you got the bigger injury.”

  "Yeah that sounds like me," I say with a body-crunching laugh that leaves me in pain.

  “You owe him an apology.”

  “I know. I’ll pay off his mortgage as soon as I get out of here.”

  “NO, you don’t need to pay off everybody you’ve done wrong to. But you do have to apologize. Because Scott is my friend. And he always will be.”

  “I will.”

  I take a deep breath, still staring at Amanda in awe. Maybe it’s just the head injury talking but my God does she look beautiful. Like a guardian angel. And who knows…maybe SHE is why I came back. Why I fought back even when I was in the clutches of death.

  “Amanda…”

  “Don’t,” she interrupts. “Don’t say anything you regret.”

  “I don’t regret it!” I snarl back. “I love you. You were the last thing I was thinking about…and the first thing I was thinking about. And you’re the only woman who’s never left.”

  “I know, I know, Nate…” she says in frustration. “But I can’t live like this.”

  “Like
what?” I say with my voice cracking, please…don’t break my heart again. Not right now…

  “Because Nate! I care for you too much! And I can’t go through this again. When you recover…when you walk again and feel your strength come back I know exactly where you’re going to go. You’re going to go back on that field and you’re going to get hurt again!”

  Amanda breaks down and cries, grabbing my weak arm.

  “And I can’t take anymore of this. I can’t risk getting hurt again. And if I lose you to this stupid sport it’s going to hurt so much…more than any breakup ever could.”

  “But…what am I?” I say back to her, dreading the answer. Dreading the moment…the decision I’ve wrestled with since the moment I first picked up the ball.

  “That’s for you to figure out,” she says staring a hole through my soul with her stunning blue eyes. “You’re either Nate Jiggur or you’re just some ordinary guy. But you know I can’t have both.”

  The moment of truth. If I don’t have Amanda, I still have the rest of the world who loves me. But if I have Amanda…I have to learn who I am. Return to normal life…like my mom tried to teach me before she passed.

  I’ve never known how to be normal. Or happy. All I’ve ever done in my life is pass, catch and run. Run from happiness. And this last time almost caught me my life.

  But at the end of the day…

  You play to win. Winning is the only option. Losing is THE END. Losing means it’s all over, and no one respects a loser.

  It’s never been clearer. I know what I must do…for MYSELF, not for anyone else.

  I will be remembered as a winner. Because if I’m not a winner, I’m nothing.

  “Welcome back to Morning Coffee! This morning we’re interviewing former Dallas Cowboys quarterback Nate Jiggur. One year ago, he was said to be one of the greatest quarterbacks of all time.”

  "Just one of?" I say to the interviewer, followed by a laugh from the news reporter and the studio audience.

  "My bad! The greatest. So tell us, Nate. What made you decide to retire at such a young age?"

  "Well,…it was really only one thing that prompted the decision. And a lot of people assume it was the head injury during the Play-Off game last season. But it wasn't. I'm going to tell you the truth now."

  I smile at the camera and then to my side…where my lovely girlfriend Amanda sits, waiting patiently as I flex nuts for the media.

  "I realized that I couldn't keep a winning streak forever. At some point, I had to admit that my run was over, or at least coming to a close. Most quarterbacks wait for years, going past their prime. I wanted to be remembered as a winner. I mean, sure, I could have played one more season and quit after winning another Super Bowl ring. But the truth was, I met Amanda Shannon. And she turned my world upside down."

  I squeeze my baby’s arm as the studio audience awws. Amanda blushes, always a little camera shy.

  “She is the most talented woman I’ve ever met. You wouldn’t know it just by seeing her here all quiet like that. But she plays guitar like a rock star.”

  “Great! Are you going to play for us, Amanda?”

  “Noooo thanks!” Amanda says with a nervous grin. “Never going to happen.”

  “But yeah, basically I fell hard for Amanda. And I realized that if this relationship was going to work, I had to choose between football and Amanda. The life…the party life…the game of risks…it just didn’t have enough to keep me coming back for another season.”

  “A lot of fans said you quit too early. What do you say about those critical opinions?”

  “Well, those jabronis are free to believe what they want,” I say to a smattering of laughter. But it just so happens that months after I decided to choose Amanda over the NFL, my doctor met with me and told me to retire anyway.”

  The audience reacts with a hush.

  “Oh I see,” the reporter replies.

  "Because my injury was significant and the doctors didn't think I could take another nasty fall like that. So think about it…if I had chosen my ego and my love of football over something real…my relationship…I would have had to give it up anyway just a year later. But without the world's best girlfriend at my side."

  The reporter waits till after the studio audience applauds. “So then, would you say that your relationship with your girlfriend was worth it? Worth giving up the whole world, the NFL and your money and partying ways?”

  “Well…”

  I stay quiet and reflective…definitely bringing an uncomfortable hush to the audience…and to Amanda at my side, who flinches in discomfort.

  “Does this answer your question?”

  I get up from the couch and do one final prance—down to one knee. I reach for my engagement ring in my pocket and look up to my goddess.

  Her sniffing and huffing face tells the story. She covers her face in shock and in quivering joy.

  I can barely mutter the opening sentence before the audience erupts into applause and catcalling.

  I wait for minutes on end…just to hear myself think, let alone communicate the most important sentence of my life.

  “Amanda…I owe you everything. I really didn’t know who I was before I met you. You saw through the act. You saw through my shallow life and saw me as I really am. Ever since I quit the NFL to be with you, I’ve never regretted any of it. I walked away a winner because I won your heart. You’re the only one I want to be with. You remind me of who I really am, behind the glitz and glamour. I’m just a man…and I want to leave the world a better place than when I left it. You saved my life.”

  I kiss her hand and wipe my own tear from my eye, seeing only her in a roomful of people.

  “Coming face to face with death, all I could think about is that I wanted just one more date with you. Everything about you is a rock star. The way you treat people, your loyalty to your family, your kindness, talent, and the way you inspire men to be better than what they are. I love you. And I’m asking you to marry me.”

  The audience cheers again as Amanda holds my hand.

  “I love you too. And yes I’ll marry you!”

  We hugged and made TV and sports history!

  That's the story of how one woman stole the heart of Nate Jiggur and turned the world's baddest man into the proud partner of Guitar World, along with Blake Shannon, my father in law. I may have made a lot of mistakes in my youth…but I always win. Sometimes a man just has to learn what games in life really need winning.

  One Kiss To Win

  Laney

  The morning air was crisp and cool as fall classes had begun. I was in a new city, going to a new school, and feeling excited about the big changes I’d made. It was as if my future career was much closer at hand than it had been. I cradled the books for my first two classes in my arms, the weight of my back pack a little lighter with them out of it.

  It was my first day of class at the Haas School of Business. I had to admit I was intimidated. Berkeley’s Haas was consistently one of the top business schools in the nation after all. I had checked US News and World’s Ranking Reports every year since I was in seventh grade.

  I was a junior transfer student from the University of Florida. The urban Berkeley campus was much different from what I was used to back in Gainesville where students occasionally spotted alligators rambling on campus. There were no alligators at Berkeley, just a lot of unnervingly smart people.

  My mom was a geology professor at the University of Florida. Academically, she felt my transfer to Berkeley was a great decision, but as my mother, I could tell she was worried how I would do so far away from home for the first time, all the way across the country. I promised her that I wouldn’t let her down.

  Mom had battled her way through undergrad and graduate school as a single mother. I didn’t have any of the same issues as she did, a small child to care for and zero child support, so I intended to make her proud.

  My stomach was tightly wound in knots as I walked to my first class, Microeconom
ic Analysis for Business Decisions. I passed rows and rows of tables set up for various clubs and activist groups. I dodged a few students who were handing out flyers. Before I joined any club or extracurricular activity, I needed to assess how hard my semester was going to be. As a junior transfer student, I needed to have top-notch grades to prove to everyone that although I hadn't gotten in as a freshman, I rightfully belonged there now as a hard-working junior.

  Haas was set up on the southeastern edge of Berkeley’s campus on its own mini-campus. The mini-campus was made up of three connected modern looking buildings that surrounded a central courtyard. I liked how Haas was set up like a miniature village with a town square. With the muted colors of nature: warm tones of deep green, grey-green, and reddish brown, I got a subtle sense of community as I walked around there.

  Despite my nerves, I was feeling optimistic about my first day. My mom always told me to wake up with a positive attitude. Even if I had doubts or was full of anxiety. I could hear her words echoing in my mind, ‘It’s important to be positive and believe in yourself.’ That’s my mom. She was the most glass half full person I’d ever met in my life.

  In the courtyard, I walked by a beefy guy who looked me over indiscreetly.

  Geez, can he be more obvious? Where are all the gentlemen of my generation? Do they even exist anymore?

  I did my best to not draw too much attention to myself. I had put my hair up in a ponytail and wore demure, conservative clothes. It had always made me uncomfortable to draw attention to myself.

  I entered Chou Hall and waited in the hallway for my very first class to start, nerves crawling around my insides like worms. It was a weird anticipation I was feeling. So unlike anything I’d ever felt before.

  Using my mother’s sage advice, I let myself feel all the nervous energy without trying to put it out of my head. I was on the cusp of what I had always dreamt about. I was in the college I had always wanted to be a part of.