Chapter 11

“I can’t do it,” Dave said.

“Of course, you can,” Quinn said. “As my aunt always said, ‘Have courage and life will meet you halfway.’“

“No, you don’t understand,” and with that Dave let loose a stream of projectile vomit worthy of Linda Blair in The Exorcist. Whereupon the trainer and team physician were summoned—to say nothing of the clubhouse man with a mop and bucket—and Dave was pronounced ill enough from the flu to be sent off to the hospital.

Smalley didn’t say anything to Quinn before the game. He didn’t have to. Quinn was feeling enough pressure. This was the nationally televised Sunday night game, and the stakes were made clear by the mediocre-former-players-turned-commentators who bloviated on the pregame show.