“Hey, T.K.” Pressing into service the same swivel-hipped motion that has made him the league’s leading ground gainer for the past two seasons, Ripper Henry, fullback/deep safety with the Chicago Hawks, picks his way through the clubhouse crowd. T.K. raises his arm, hand open and extended, in a greeting which Ripper returns. “How’s the knees?” Ripper asks.

It’s always like that when two pros meet, almost a formalized ritual. First the openhanded gesture, then an inquiry after the levels of pain, the latter being the universal professional concern that transcends the nagging realization there will undoubtedly come a Sunday when one of these men might be forced to kill the other.

“They’ve got so many metal staples in them, they clang when I bump them together. Damn glad I’m not knock-kneed. How’s your shoulder? I was watching the playoff on TV when you took that pointblank shot.” Despite Ripper’s having a tremendous Sunday, rushing for nearly 400 yards, the Hawks lost their division playoff and their shot at the Killerbowl to Matision and the Minutemen.

His hand fisted, Ripper swings his arm in a wide circle, stopping about a quarter of the way around. “Stiff, right there.” He brings his other hand up, and pantomimes a golf swing.

“Don’t matter, though. I got a hundred dollar bill says I whip the pants off you today.”

The two are participating in the Temple Beth Al Pro-Am Golf Tournament, an annual affair held in Atlanta during the ten week break football players are given between season’s end and the start of spring training.

T.K. nods to acknowledge the bet. “How about we lubricate our aching joints until it’s time.” He dips his head in the direction of the bar, completely surrounded by athletes, all waiting for their turn to tee off.

“Best play you’ve called all year.” Ripper angles his way effortlessly into the solid wall of thirsty muscle.

T.K. starts after him when a hand gently touches his bicep. “You’re T.K. Mann.” A statement, not a question, spoken in a smoky, feminine voice that rises like a sigh through the heavy rumbles of drinking men.