“And you want me to go to the Attorney General with you?”

“Yes, that’s correct.”

T.K. puts his hand to the back of his head, and ponders for a moment. He rises up. “O.K. I will.”

Smiles of immense satisfaction break out all around the room. “After Killerbowl XXI,” T.K. adds, and the smiles disappear.

“No,” says the senator, taken aback. “We can’t wait that long. We have to make our move now.”

“I’ll go after XXI. Not before.”

“That’s more than five months away. We cannot wait that long.”

“If you want me to go with you, you’ll have to.”

“But why? They killed your friend. Doesn’t that mean anything to you?”

“Of course it does, but you’ve got your facts slightly twisted. They tipped off my play. That’s all they did. Harv Matision killed Eddie. He’s the one I have to settle with. I don’t want him taken off the street until I do.”

“Don’t you understand? Matision’s under outside control. In any contest between the two of you, he will know things that you don’t. He will be given information you don’t have. He will be told beforehand exactly what you’re going to do.”

“Now that I’m aware of it, I can use that against him.”

“You’re being unreasonable.”

“No, Senator, not at all. I’m a football player. I make my living at it. I accept the risks. O.K. There’s somebody on every team with a receiver in his head. Fine. That’s just one more risk I have to cope with.”

Abelman tries another approach. “If you go with us, Matision will be punished. The courts will exact your retribution for you. It’s not necessary for you to personally revenge your friend’s death.”

“To me it is.”

The senator, who has risen and stands at the end of the table, grasps the back of a chair for support. “This is insane. I can’t believe you’re serious. Possibly I haven’t gotten through to you. If you don’t come with us, we’ll go without you. Your support will help, but it’s not essential. The overwhelming odds are that the Attorney General will accept our tape at face value. When he does, I can assure you, Matision won’t be playing in any Killerbowl, not this year or ever again. What do you say to that?”

“I know how slowly the law usually works. I’ll gamble that it doesn’t speed up this time.”

“You’ll be gambling your life, Mr. Mann.”

“Senator, gambling my life is something I’m paid to do. On television. Every Sunday.” T.K. gets up to leave. “See you around,” he says on his way out the door, “after XXI.”

Thursday, July 29, 2010