Lonnie smiled and said, “You’re every bit as good as the players you faced in the tournament. We believe in you and want you to succeed. Sure, I’d love to coach you for three more years, but that’s not going to happen. You can’t say no to the money, Samuel.”
“What’s going to happen to you?”
“I don’t know. Lots of rumors. But I’m in no hurry. You, on the other hand, need to make a decision.”
“Do you know Arnie Savage?”
“Never met him, but he’s rumored to be a decent agent. Why?”
“His runner has been persistent. Showed up in Norfolk, then again in Memphis after we beat Duke. Said hello to Murray and wanted to get together.”
“Murray didn’t tell me.”
“No sir. He didn’t tell me either. The contact was unauthorized but, as I’ve learned, it’s really no big deal. Just a runner. I’ve checked out Savage and he seems to be legit. Has two dozen or so players in the NBA.”
Lonnie asked, “You want me to make phone calls?”
“No sir, but thanks. I’m digging for myself, plus Murray’s got my back.”
Jason said, “You gotta do it, Sooley. You can’t say no to the money.”
“I know.”
* * *
·?·?·
Murray sat at the kitchen table with his parents and sipped a soda. No food was present. There was nothing doing on the stove or in the oven, not a whiff of the usual delicious aroma.
Ida was perturbed and had been for some time. She was saying, “He’s not even nineteen years old. You gotta be nineteen, right?”
“Sort of. You have to turn nineteen in the calendar year you’re drafted.”
“That’s too young,” she said.
“That’s the rule, Mom. And what’s the big deal anyway? What about baseball and hockey? Every year hundreds of eighteen-year-old kids turn pro right out of high school, been doing it for years, for decades. Al Kaline won the American League batting title when he was twenty years old. Joe Nuxhall pitched his first game for the Reds at the age of fifteen.”
“Who?” Ida asked.
“And those old white guys are somehow relevant to Sooley and the NBA?” Ernie asked.
“No, they’re not. My point is that eighteen-and nineteen-year-olds go pro all the time now. Duke has three or four of them this year. Kentucky has at least two. Why do you think those guys are more mature than Sooley?”
“He’s just a kid,” Ida said, again. “I can’t believe we’re talking about this.”
“Get with it, Mom. He needs to sign with an agent and enter the draft.”
Ernie was shaking his head. “I don’t like it. He needs to finish college and then think about going pro.”
Murray said, “I disagree. What if there’s a million bucks on the table? And he says no, comes back to Central, then gets hurt? Why take that chance? All Sooley wants is to make some money that will enable him to go get his family. That’s what he thinks about. Sure, a college degree would be nice, and he plans to get one sooner or later. But he will not sleep well until his mother and brothers are over here, safe and sound.”
Ida said, “He’s not going to make a million dollars, is he?”
Murray smiled while shaking his head in frustration. “Mom, I know you don’t follow the game online and that’s a good thing. But right now most experts and bloggers are picking Sooley to go mid to late first round, probably between the fifteenth and twentieth picks. On something known as the Rookie Scale Contract, that means his first-year guaranteed salary is about two million dollars. Double that for year two.”
Ida shook her head in disbelief.
Ernie said, “He can’t even drive a car.”
“Well, I’m teaching him. In a few months he’ll own a Porsche.”
“God help us.”
* * *
·?·?·
Reynard Owen sat in a booth and watched a cold rain sprinkle the parking lot. The restaurant was on the outskirts of Chapel Hill, twenty-five minutes from Central’s campus. On time, the small blue pickup pulled into the lot and parked next to Reynard’s sleek black Jaguar. From the passenger’s side, Sooley got out, unfolded himself, and looked at the Jaguar. Murray got out and admired it too. One of them said something funny and both laughed as they crossed the parking lot. Inside, Reynard waved them over and they met in a booth, far away from anyone else.
Everything about Reynard was cool. The tailored jacket, designer frames, gold Rolex. He exuded success and wealth beyond his thirty years, but that was expected. Sooley and Murray, a couple of broke college kids, were impressed but they knew they were supposed to be. Reynard was nothing more than a salesman, a runner sent by his boss to break the ice with a potential client.