A Game of Inches

by Webb Hubbell

  “Sit down, Jack. Are you always this difficult to pin down? Have a glass of wine.” He motioned to a waiter who brought me a glass and poured from the bottle Red had chosen.

  He waved off my words of apology. “I know where you’ve been. Hell, the whole damn country does.

  “Listen, I’ve had a change of heart about your contract.” Just then the waiter came to take our orders. Red asked for a filet with creamed spinach. I opted for the crabmeat appetizer and a chopped salad.

  There wasn’t much to say. I hadn’t been responsive, and just about everyone thought I would be Billy’s lawyer. No wonder he was pissed. If I lost the job, well, I lost the job. Not the end of the world. So his next words came as a surprise.

  “You’ll find a revised retainer agreement waiting on your desk. Before you sign it, I want to tell you what I’ve been thinking about. I told you the other night you could represent anybody but a ball player, the league, or the union. I’ve decided I’m not going to hold you to that. If you’re crazy enough to represent Billy Hopper, more power to you. It’s not like you’re his agent, or there’s any kind of conflict of interest.”

  My turn. “In the end, I think Billy will hire someone else, but I’m curious about your change of heart. And before I come on board, I’d also like to know exactly why you’ve chosen me to be your antitrust counsel.”

  “Before you think I’m some kind of bleeding heart, I’ll set you straight. Pro football is still all about winning, and a big part of player motivation is for the guys to know they have the full and continuing support of the owner as well as the coaches. I’ll fight like hell if the commissioner tries to do something silly like suspend or fine one of my ball players, but fighting for Billy is a more difficult matter. We’re talking murder, not trash talk or roughing the passer. The commissioner would have had a coronary if I hadn’t dropped Hopper.”

  I said, “The league has a lot invested in trying to distance itself from violence against women, and rightly so. I wish they would let the legal process play out first, but I understand the dilemma.”

  “Right, but I think in Billy’s case my people went overboard in listening to the commissioner’s office. I told them, just today, that we’re going to pay Billy what we owe him under the old contract, including his rookie–of-the-year bonus. Maybe you can help me with this. His agent has dropped him, right?”

  “Yup.”

  “Good, Hopper won’t have to share with that jerk. I don’t have a clue how Hopper got hooked up with that weasel. I’ve never ever heard of him. Where should I send Billy’s money? Maybe to your friend, Judge Fitzgerald? Let me know, and I’ll have the check cut immediately.”

  “That’s very generous.” I couldn’t help but wonder—why the about face?

  “No, it’s just good business. Every one of his teammates will know I lived up to my end of the bargain. Billy earned and deserves his bonuses. My people were fools to penny pinch. Makes us look mean and spiteful.

  Our meals arrived, and we ate in silence. After the plates had been cleared and our wine glasses were filled again, Red was back to business.

  “Am I right that whatever I tell you is protected by the attorney-client privilege?” he asked.

  “Yes, if it’s in connection with my potential representation.”

  “Good. Owning an NFL franchise is a gold mine these days. TV revenues are way up, the union contract is stable, everyone is playing to packed houses, and merchandise sales have grown beyond expectations. Better yet, cities and states are begging to help build our stadiums. Tax credits are a given. The taxpayers pay for over seventy percent of pro football stadiums. The tax savings I’ve negotiated with LA and the state of California will totally cover the debt service on my new stadium and then some. Heck of a deal, wouldn’t you say?”

  I agreed. But I was pretty sure it was also a good deal for the city—I’d bet the tax credits were offset by the tourism revenue and the prestige of an NFL team.

  “But that’s only the tip of the iceberg. Fantasy football is quickly becoming bigger than the game itself, despite a few states trying to shut fantasy sports down. They won’t be successful, but they will be a pain in the ass. You would be shocked by how much money is spent on fantasy sports. Many owners are positioning themselves to take advantage of this growing industry. We’ve been careful not to draw attention to our growing investment in fantasy and video games, but a few of us already have an ownership stake in these markets.

  “We’re also expanding into world markets, not so much to play ball in foreign countries, but to corner merchandising and the fantasy markets. Fantasy sports, especially fantasy football, is a big deal in the Asian markets. A very big deal.”

  “When your ownership interests in fantasy websites become public, there will be a backlash,” I observed.

  “You’re absolutely correct. I anticipate a political backlash and a flurry of litigation aimed at removing our antitrust exemption when people realize how much of the merchandising, video game, and fantasy market we already own and hope to control. In what other industry can the top thirty-two companies sit down on a regular basis and set prices for their product from tickets to the cost of beer sold in the stadiums? On top of that, we get to divvy up proceeds from TV, merchandising, videos, and now a growing fantasy market.

  “Not such a bad problem to have. But you’re inviting litigation and government regulation.”

  “That’s why I want you on board. Jack, I’m not a fool. I know there’s no love lost between you and Lucy. She loved your wife and admires your daughter, but you’ve been on her black list for a while I understand. But our Lucy won’t let her personal feelings get in the way of good business. Once Arnot and France gave us an analysis of the top antitrust counsels in the country she said, ‘hire the son-of-a-bitch.’”

  Lucy’s opinion of me came as no surprise. I knew exactly what I thought of Lucy. Her backhanded compliment gave me a little twitch of pleasure.

  “Thanks for laying all the cards on the table. Sounds like if I agree, I’ve got a bit of a learning curve to overcome.”

  “I’m only giving you quick synopsis so you know what you’ll be up against. Most of the owners are comfortable with the law firm hired by the league, but I’m not.”

  “Why not?”

  “First, they put at least five associates on every piddling matter, charging over $500 dollars an hour to do everything from research to making copies. Imagine charging $500 an hour for Xeroxing and having the balls to couch it as document prep on the bill. Second, the antitrust partner is a pompous snob. I’m not sure he’s ever been to a ball game in his life. Finally, with thirty-two teams paying outrageous bills, the firm has a huge incentive to drag everything out instead of resolving the matters that should be resolved quickly and cheaply. My share of their bill last year was several million dollars. Jack, you’re a bargain at twice the price.

  “I did my homework. Even when you were at Banks and Tuohey, your clients never thought you overbilled them or drug out a matter to make a buck. Your small practice has an even better reputation. I’m lucky someone else didn’t gobble you up while I was fighting with Lucy over hiring you.” He leaned back in his chair, obviously pleased with himself.

  “Okay, but speaking of Lucy, won’t you have to defend me and my work every other day. Doesn’t sound like a positive working arrangement.” I was sincere. No sense setting up a client relationship that was destined for failure because of personal differences.

  “Listen, Lucy is my problem, not yours. She and I have come to a unique arrangement because our agreements exceed our disagreements. When it comes to my business, whether it’s raising a sunken ship or turning the Lobos into a super bowl champion, I have the final say. When it comes to politics or Lucy managing her family fortune, that’s her business. But she’ll surprise you sometimes. She knows how valuable Billy Hopper is to the Lobos. When I told her I’d changed my mind, she said, ‘Well, if he could get Woody off, maybe there’s a chance for
Billy. I can’t imagine anyone else who’d touch it with a ten-foot pole.’

  “Besides. I think Lucy’s dislike is more show than anything else. What is that line from Hamlet: ‘The lady protests too much, methinks.’ Something tells me she isn’t nearly as angry at you as she lets on. Witness this.”

  He handed me what was clearly a very expensive save the date card. I was flabbergasted.

  “What if I don’t go to work for you? Do I give this back?” I asked, only partly in jest.

  “It was her decision, not mine—no strings attached. She knew we were meeting and wanted me to give this to you in person. The invitation list is all hers. Your daughter is invited as well. She’ll get her invitation in the mail.”

  Lucy was indeed full of surprises. While I fingered the posh card, Red finished.

  “Okay, I’ve laid my cards on the table. Go back to your office, read the damn retainer agreement, and sign it. Represent Billy Hopper if you want, and let me know where to send his check.” He handed me a card with his private number.

  “Again, I think Billy and Marshall will hire a really good criminal lawyer. I’ll let you know where to send the check—I can tell you they’ll both be very appreciative. And I’ll let you know tomorrow if I see any problem with the agreement. You have my word.”

  “Good. Now before I go out to the patio to smoke a cigar with Lynn and Guy, I want to tell you something. I hope you do represent Billy. He needs someone like you. I saw your press conference, if you can call it that. I thought he was guilty from the get-go, but your words gave me pause. Billy needs someone who believes in him, and I think you might just be that person. Think about it.”

  Lynn and Guy appeared as if by magic. Apparently they had been in the bar the whole time. He had one last bit of advice for me.

  “By the way, Carol Madison is also on the guest list. Maybe you two can come together.”

  There are no secrets in DC.

  25

  AS I WALKED back to the office I tried to digest all I had learned from Red. He wasn’t a man to do anything out of the goodness of his heart; at least I didn’t think so. His explanation for paying Billy the money the Lobos owed made some sense, but I wondered…

  It sounded like Lucy hadn’t changed much since her days in Arkansas—she was a tough cookie, a strong woman with a take no prisoners attitude. I wondered what was up with the wedding invitation. The fact remained that she didn’t like me, and I didn’t much care for her either—or maybe we both protested too much. My bet was that Red had more to do with the guest list than he had let on.

  I knew the gist of fantasy football, but that was about it. I’d never actually joined a league, but guys talked about their teams and players on the golf course all the time. Basically, there are two types of Fantasy Football leagues. The older version is similar to the old rotisserie baseball leagues I remembered from college. You and a group of friends (or random strangers thanks to the internet) form a league and put money into a pot. You draft players based on position and form your team. Then each week you play other teams in your league with points awarded for your player stats. For instance, if Peyton Manning is your quarterback and he throws a touchdown your team would get 6 points. Each week your team either wins or loses and after fourteen to sixteen weeks, the league has a winner. The money usually goes out to the first second, third and so on.

  It’s that simple, and now that scoring is managed online, easy to play. The NFL loves fantasy football because it makes fans all over the world interested in every game every week, rather than just their hometown team. It now matters to a Carolina fan what is happening to a player in Kansas City. It’s no coincidence that the rise in value of the NFL over the last two decades (as well as the rise in television revenue) corresponds with the rise in fantasy leagues.

  In the last couple of years a newer and more controversial form of fantasy football has arrived called weekly fantasy football. Controlled by a couple of large internet-based companies, this version allows you to change your team on a week-to-week basis, so you aren’t stuck with a hurt player or bad team all season. The payouts are weekly rather than at the end of the season, and a lot more money changes hands. There are now professional weekly fantasy players, (not too different from day traders on the stock market) who make thousands of dollars each week playing online. Unlike the stock market, weekly fantasy is unregulated. It’s also not considered gambling because some degree of skill is involved in choosing the players. And players can’t bet on the outcome of a single game or the performance of a single player. But it’s close enough that it is outlawed in a few states like Nevada and Louisiana, and is coming under more and more scrutiny by state attorneys general.

  Back in 2006, Congress gave the fantasy betting sites an exemption from gambling laws. So today no government authority oversees fantasy sports, which still feels like gambling to me. To hear that the NFL was moving into controlling this part of their business didn’t surprise me, but it did bother me. Gambling and sports have never been a good mix.

  I’m a fan of both college and pro football, especially college. But a lot of the modern game bothers me, and I know I’m part of the problem. The fact is that at least ninety percent of all NFL players will suffer long-term ailments, either physical or cognitive. No statistics are available for NCAA ballplayers, but there’s no reason to believe the numbers aren’t similar. Is it any more violent than soccer? I don’t know. But I admit to watching college ball most Saturdays in the fall, and I occasionally attend Redskins games on Sundays when they’re in town, if you can call Landover, MD ‘in town.’ My support unconsciously condones a sport in which an untold number of young men end up with permanent physical or brain damage, and I pay good money to watch it happen.

  I opened the office door to find Maggie still returning press calls. She rolled her eyes, so I shut myself up in my office, took out the revised retainer agreement and read it carefully. The deal was basically the same, but Red had added a few sweeteners regarding travel accommodations and expenses. Let’s just say NFL executives don’t go anywhere second-class. The agreement spelled out liberal provisions should my work exceed twenty hours a month, and if for any reason the contract was terminated by either party, I would be paid the equivalent of a two year retainer for signing a confidentiality agreement.

  I should have signed it on the spot, but Maggie and I had an unwritten rule that I wouldn’t take on new business without conferring. Maggie no longer needed to work, but neither of us had ever considered otherwise. She enjoyed the challenge, and I needed her. With the foundation as a full-time client, I could be more selective about choosing other clients. It was a nice arrangement, but I was about to upset the apple cart. We had two pieces of business to discuss—pro football and Billy Hopper.

  I spent the rest of the afternoon boning up on the business end of football. Around four o’clock, I poked my head in her office.

  “Maggie, I’ve had enough for one day. Let’s go on over to the Bombay while it’s still quiet.” The colonial Indian restaurant was an easy walk from our offices. Maggie was in good spirits, and why not, after a month in Tuscany.

  We chose to sit in the small bar area, and I ordered champagne.

  “Maggie, I’ve hardly had time to say ‘welcome home.’ I’m sorry you got stuck with the press again, but it’s been an interesting week. We need to talk about some potential new business.”

  “Fine, but let’s first talk about Carol Madison. Who is she, and where are you going this weekend?”

  I couldn’t help but frown. “You know, I’m not a school kid, and you’re not my mother.”

  “Well, sometime you act like one, and considering your recent track record with women you need someone look out for you. So who is Carol Madison?”

  Okay—so a few of my adventures into dating land hadn’t turned out so well. I’d made a few mistakes in the last couple of years that Maggie wouldn’t let me forget.

  “I met her at a cocktail party; we had din
ner and hit it off. She invited me to her place on the Eastern Shore last weekend along with several other couples. She’s invited me back this weekend, and I’ve accepted. And before you ask, she’s in the consulting and information business. I bet Walter has heard of her.”

  “He has,” she smiled.

  “What? You already asked him? You already know about her? What did he say?”

  “He said you’ve moved up in class, he was impressed. Tell me Jack, is she real?”

  I thought for a minute. “She’s fun, she’s independent, and she’s smart. And so far she seems to like me. I know this is fast, and I know I don’t have a very good track record, but, yes, I like her a lot. I want you to meet her.”

  Her brows shot up. I usually don’t say much about a woman I’ve taken out—usually there isn’t much to say. Maggie always seems to know whom I’m seeing, but we seldom talk about it.

  I was ready to drop the subject, and she didn’t push me any further. So I gave her the basics of Red’s proposal and an outline of Billy’s problems. Of course, she’d heard about the murder, but had no idea Marshall was involved.

  Maggie began. “Let’s talk about the easy one first—Red Shaw. He’s demanding and rude, but antitrust is what we do and do well. We’d be crazy to turn down the opportunity. Plus I like the fact we’ll be playing in the Premier league.”

  Maggie’s reference to the Premier league had something to do with English soccer. I knew about as much about British soccer as she did about American football. But we were both in agreement about Red’s business. We weren’t so excited about helping him get richer, but that’s what antitrust lawyers do. We spent a few minutes mulling over whether we needed to take on another lawyer to help with the growing caseload. It might be good to bring some fresh thinking into the office.

  Then we turned to Billy. Maggie was characteristically blunt. “You took on Woody Cole because he was a friend. It was the right thing to do, even though you almost got yourself killed. Dr. Stewart—that was for Angie. You got that right, too, but if you remember you were almost killed again. ‘Third time’s a charm’ sounds a little risky to me.”