Chapter 7 -- Directional School Drama
Monday December 12
I was on set when Lexi found me.
"I'm sorry, but you had an urgent call from Duane Morris. He needs you to call him back," Lexi said.
"We can shoot around you," Mr. Otsuki assured me.
"I'll make this short," I promised and went to find a quiet spot to make the call.
"Mr. Morris, please," I said when his assistant answered, and she put me right through.
"David, it would seem I spoke too soon about the NCAA going smoothly. They're sending an investigator to monitor your meeting with that directional school."
"You mean Southwest Central State?" I asked.
"Yes, that's the one. I guess the meeting is set for tomorrow evening," Mr. Morris said.
"Didn't anyone think to either consult with me or my PA? I'm shooting a TV series tomorrow. There's no way I can just pick up and leave."
"Actually, Lexi scheduled it. She told us she cleared it with them. Do we need to reschedule?" he asked.
I wasn't sure.
"If we do, I'll get back to you," I said and then focused on the NCAA. "Why is an investigator involved?"
"My guess is that your videos caused them some heartburn. They're sending the investigator to determine what, if any, infractions have occurred. I'm actually catching a flight as soon as we hang up. I need to be there when you talk to them."
"Do you think this will affect my eligibility?" I asked.
"No, but that's why I'll be there. Some of the investigators can get a little overzealous."
That wasn't reassuring at all. Mr. Morris would know because he worked for the NCAA before he went into private practice.
"Did you get them to agree that we would only be willing to assist them once on this?" I asked.
"We're meeting with the investigator tonight. I'll remind him of what we agreed to and get him to confirm it."
"You're sure I don't have anything to worry about?" I asked.
"We're helping them. They're doing their job to discover how shoe companies are being used to help schools pay recruits. When I was there, we always suspected universities had figured out how to funnel money to the players, we just didn't know how they were doing it. It looks like it has gotten pretty sophisticated."
"Okay, I'll see you when you get out here," I said and hung up.
My gut told me that this was more serious than Mr. Morris was letting on. I'd heard what happened to the teaching assistant at Missouri who'd reported improper assistance to scholarship football players. The school and NCAA had pinned it all on her. It was partially her fault because she looked mercenary when she tried to sell her information to help pay for school and books.
My gut also told me that the NCAA knew more about this than they were telling Mr. Morris. They would almost have to--or they were incompetent. I never got that impression of them, so I was betting on their having some idea.
My next task was to coordinate with Lexi, who'd been listening in to my side of the phone conversation with Mr. Morris. We would have to talk about her eavesdropping after this was all over.
"Do I need to get you up to speed?" I asked.
"No. What do you need me to do?"
"When I get done with what Mr. Otsuki needs from me, I want to have a meeting at the house with my dad, Frank Ingram, and Fritz. I want to fill them in on what's going on. Dad should be there to make sure I'm not missing anything," I explained.
"Do you want me there?"
"Yes. See if you can get me out of filming for later today and all of tomorrow. I can make up the scenes I miss on Saturday. From looking at the storyboard, I'm mostly on my own or talking to cute girls. They plan to use those sections as cutaway shots."
"Will do," she said and left me to my thoughts.
I was reasonably sure I was reading too much into this, but I wasn't taking any chances.
---
We worked through lunch to make up for my leaving early. There were some scenes where I was with the group while they said their lines. Those couldn't be done on Saturday.
By the time we were let go, I was starved. I assumed Manaia was also, so when I got home, I made lunch for both of us as well as Lexi. We were just sitting down to eat when Frank Ingram arrived. About five minutes later, Dad and Fritz came in.
"Why is the NCAA sending an investigator?" Dad asked.
"I don't really know. I expected we would meet with the coach from Southwest Central State and record it like we did with the shoe company guy. No idea what this guy wants."
"I did a background check on both the investigator and the coach," Frank said. "Stewart Chadwick has been an investigator for the NCAA for four years. His most recent assignment involved the Notre Dame violations by a student-trainer, which were just announced. They had to vacate victories from the 2012 and 2013 seasons.
"The trainer committed academic misconduct by completing coursework for two football players. Those two players, and another, also committed individual academic misconduct. Notre Dame ruled they violated the school's academic integrity policy as well. Six other players were also found to be in violation."
That sounded an awful lot like the Missouri deal, but on a smaller scale. I wondered why it had been handled so differently.
"Tobias Foster was an assistant at another university where he was suspended for unspecified reasons and decided to leave. He took a job at Southwest Central State this fall and has been instrumental in recruiting for them," Frank said.
"Who did he coach for before?" I asked.
Frank told us; they were on the list that Gordon Parker, from Springbok, had given us of the schools they sponsored. That was suspicious. They must have moved him over when he drew too much attention at his last stop. It seemed he wasn't lying low if the list of recruits he'd already gotten commitments from was any indication. Southwest Central State currently had the twenty-fifth-best recruiting class in the nation. That was quite a jump up for a school that had just entered the Division I ranks. To put it into perspective, that would put them in the top half of the Big Ten, as far as recruiting classes went.
Fritz told us he would put together a surveillance setup similar to what we'd used for Mr. Parker. We wanted to record both meetings. Lexi arranged to have the meetings at local restaurants so they'd feel more relaxed and be more forthcoming. Plus, it was a public venue, which gave me a loophole around the two-party consent rules in California.
The meeting broke up at that point.
---
I found I had a free afternoon.
"Want to go surfing?" I asked my dad.
"That sounds like a good idea."
I had my board at Rita's beach house, so I called her to see if we could borrow boards for my dad and Manaia. She gave me the code for the front door and said she'd warn Trip that we were coming over. I asked to borrow a couple of boards for the duration, and she graciously agreed. I wanted to be able to go surfing with my dad when we had free time.
On the way to the beach, we stopped at a surf shop to get Manaia and Dad board shorts and surf vests. Even though we were used to it being freezing this time of year, surfing in the winter in LA could be a little chilly.
Trip wasn't home, so I showed the guys where they could change and went to the storage area to get the boards out. I met them on the back deck that led down to the beach. We'd missed the morning surf crowd, and school was in session, so the afternoon high schoolers weren't out yet. We pretty much had the waves to ourselves.
I leaned my head back and felt the sun and wind on my face. The smell of the ocean and the sound of the waves and seabirds completed the perfect day at the beach. The waves didn't look to be too big, which was perfect for our rusty skills. It seemed like there would be nice, easy runs.
When Manaia and Dad were ready, we paddled out and started taking turns catching waves. Manaia admitted that he hadn't surfed in a couple of years, so we all had our mishaps as we relearned how to get our feet under us. It didn't take long, though.
While I waited for my turn, I paused to take it all in. I could understand why people fell in love with surfing. This was what I should have done instead of agreeing to act through Christmas break. The ideal vacation would be Brook and me traveling the world in search of the perfect wave.
We were out doing something physical, the three of us were goofing off, and everyone was having a good time. For that moment, I was happy. Everything else melted away; all my worries, responsibilities, obligations, expectations. I allowed myself to be in the moment and have fun.
Dad and Manaia started to tire, so we decided to go in as the high school crowd began to arrive. I recognized some of the guys and stopped to talk to them. Dad went on into the house to shower. That was when the fun went out of the day.
"I thought we ran you off."
I turned and saw Al 'Baby Dick' Faulkenburg. He'd tried to leech onto me to look good with his classmates. I'd invited him to a party against my better judgment. During the party, I'd hooked up with one of his classmates, and Al had tried to join us. That was when he got his nickname. He'd exposed himself, and she'd taken one look at his tiny penis and said, "Get that baby dick away from me!"
He, in fact, had the smallest one I'd ever seen on a guy since middle school. It didn't take long for the high school gossip machine to spread the word about his new nickname. Al decided to get revenge on me, even though I wasn't the one who labeled him. Okay, I might have laughed when he said, "I thought size didn't matter?" to which the girl responded, "I at least want to feel it." Somehow, he'd focused his upset on me.
He'd gotten a couple of his friends to attack me with baseball bats. Thankfully, Cassidy had taught me enough to be able to defend myself, and I was able to turn the tables on them.
Since then, I'd started calling them the 'Baby Dick Gang.' There was no love lost between us. To be completely honest, the little rat fart and I despised each other.
"How's it hanging, Al? Your balls drop yet?"
Everyone roared with laughter as Al's face went crimson. It was like waving a red cape at a bull. Baby Dick charged me. I fully intended to allow him the first punch and then would kick his butt up and down the beach--in self-defense. Manaia ruined my fun. He grabbed Baby Dick around the waist and stopped him in his tracks. Al tried to get loose, but Manaia had about a hundred pounds on him.
I might have felt bad when Al burst into tears if he hadn't turned out to be such a douche last year. The other guys didn't help when they started to make fun of him for crying. That wasn't something guys our age did. Their derision was partially because they all thought he was a douche, too, and this gave them an excuse to give him a little back.
