“Sir, I don’t mean to be a naysayer, but I’ve done a great deal of factorial research into our involvement with the games. I’m afraid if we expand our influence much further, we may reach a point of diminishing, even totally self-destructive returns.” Now that he’s started, he talks faster, as if to get it all said before Spencer’s disapproving stare disintegrates him. “By keeping our operatives to a minimum, we’ve been able to maintain the discretion our activity demands. If we double the number of players we have in our service, we also double our risk of exposure. I’m afraid that sooner or later, one of our players, driven by morality or conscience, may betray our trust. In addition, there’s always the possibility of blackmail. Or if one of our players should ever be killed and undergo an autopsy, well, I needn’t tell you how catastrophic the findings would turn out to be. I mean, a good case could be made for indicting us all as accessories to murder. Not to mention the lesser, although certainly significant charge of interfering with interstate commerce. With the sixteen players we already have under our control, on the average we channel the outcomes of one half of all SFL games every season. I think that’s enough. I see no reason to be greedy. I suggest that we maintain our program at current levels, forsaking the added revenues, and the attendant risks, necessary to broaden our operations.” His courage, as well as his proposition, drained out of him, he drops to his chair.

His answer is quick in coming. “I don’t agree with you, Deutsch,” snarls Spencer. “I doubt if anybody else does, either. Does anybody else?”

Naturally not. Pierce Spencer has very unsubtle methods for dealing with dissension.

“So, it’s settled,” Spencer says. “This season we buy ourselves thirty two players, one on every team.”

Thus ends another IBC executive conference.

So You Want to Field a Football Team

For those of you out there who have always wanted to field your own professional street football team, this is the chapter where I tell you how to do it.

First, you start by robbing a bank.

In case you wonder why, here’s a breakdown of what it costs to put the Prospectors out on the street.

Helmets and extra inflatable liners and jelly casings go for around $135 each. A lineman who does a lot of head blocking can go through six, maybe eight in a season. Plus, short clubs crack them open a lot, and we have to throw them away because they can’t be repaired. Stretch pants are $55, jerseys $35. Shoulder and hip pads go for $80. Chest and back plates cost $220 since they have to be custom molded to each player. Leggings and arm guards are $65. Kidney protectors cost us $35. Chain mail is another $50.