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 Hanna Chapter 7

   Changing Love





   Moira became my goal, and my concern.

   Jason was my pal.  We hung out together.  He had his own computer, with
a headset instead of speakers, so he could play games without disturbing
me. His small computer desk was in my office, so we spent lots of time
together, in harmony and companionship, though we were doing different
things.  We spent a lot of active time, too.  We'd play basketball and a
little baseball.  It's a great thing to teach your son to hit a thrown ball
with a bat.  Catching a ball that takes a bad hop is a worthwhile skill,
too.

   But Moira was special.

   We found that there was no evidence of damage, or `missing parts' that
would explain her blindness.  Her eyes seemed normal and there was no sign
that the optic nerve bundle wasn't functional.  Nor could anyone find any
brain damage or malfunction that might explain it.  But `hysterical
blindness' was ruled out, since she was profoundly blind and had been from
birth.  Several doctors--especially those in research--wanted to insert
electrodes here or there, to see if nerve signals were getting through.

   We were not desperate, merely curious.  Moira didn't feel that she
lacked anything, by her inability to see.  There were no invasive tests! 
Doctors who wanted to do them were not allowed to examine her again.  No
exceptions.  No appeals.



   We had investigated the schools in the surrounding communities and
selected an upscale private school nearby.  We felt that, with Moira's
special needs, we'd have more input into her program if we were paying for
her education.

   Jason fit anywhere and was no problem--beyond the normal boyhood
battles. He had few of those, being a kid who, though larger than the other
boys in his class, made friends easily.  Most of the other kids preferred
to be his friend.

   Moira was the same, but for somewhat different reasons.  I think it was
magic.  Hanna says she has exceptionally well-developed social skills.



   Computer technology had finally progressed to the point that, if one
wanted, it could all be controlled by voice.  Moira had her own computer...
that she spoke to and that conversed with her.  She'd never had a visual
component to her life, so was able to carry on adequately without it.

   When she started school, she attended regular classes.  She'd already
learned Braille and the school provided the Braille version of all the
normal books.  She couldn't see the blackboard.  And she couldn't do most
art projects.  But she blossomed when she was introduced to modeling clay.
While the others used crayons, or construction paper and glue, she made
small sculptures--and became very good at it.

   Hanna arranged for a `blind tutor' to coach the entire family.  This
lady, not blind herself, taught us many useful techniques that we used to
make Moira's life more `normal.' For example, when she wanted to run,
people could be at various places and call to her in turn--`Here, Moira. 
Here, Moira..." When she reached that person, they could call, `run left'.
Then the next person would call to her.  Moira ran as much as any kid--and
loved it.  The kids in her school were taught the technique and enjoyed
helping her with it as much as she loved the running.

   I don't know if it was because of her blindness or just because she was
female.  Moira developed into a girl who was extraordinarily gifted at
making friends and at having friends who wanted to help her.

   Her teachers told us the kids often formed a large ring and called
Moira, so she could run around them, laughing merrily the whole time.  And
they would help her find her coat and overshoes--or read to her what the
teacher had written on the blackboard.

   It was not a one-way deal.  Moira cheerfully helped her friends
understand concepts the teachers were trying to get across.  She patiently
helped with spelling and arithmetic, too.  Those of her friends who visited
the house were amazed at her voice-controlled computer and enjoyed playing
games, listening to music, and chattering about all the things that
interest young girls.

   Of course, they were all happy to eat the abundant supply of cookies and
milk that Hanna kept in the kitchen.

   - - + + + + + -



   Without football, I needed something to do.  After all, I was still in
my 20s, and had enough income to not worry about anything, as long as our
lifestyle didn't get extravagant.

   Working on my discus throwing technique didn't consume that much of my
time.  I considered it a hobby, anyway.

   Hanna felt the same.  She'd `outgrown' the high jump and could only
vault at competitive heights--and she felt that she'd only want to compete
for another year or two at most.

   When we were asked to join the USOC Athletes' Advisory Committee, we
felt it would be a chance to help our fellow competitors and spend some of
our time productively.

   Our instincts were right; we were able to represent other track and
field athletes to the national Olympic Committee.  And we were able to
cause some improvements in conditions for the athletes.  Especially, we
were proud of being able to simplify the rules for NCAA and AAU athletes
who were--deservedly--paid for appearing at `open' track meets.

   The real authority, though, was the Olympic Committee itself.  When our
first two-year terms were about to expire, we weren't very interested in
continuing.  After a lot of cajolery, and the promise of seats on USOC when
we stopped competing, we agreed to stay on.

   Hanna retired from competition the following year, and was promptly
named a USOC member.

   I still had several years of competition in me, I thought, and continued
as I was.

   - - + + + + + -

   Neither of us was especially fond of the International Olympic
Committee. It seemed to us to be a throwback to the days of European
aristocracy--and pure greed, on the part of many members.

   The former IOC Chairman, in my opinion, was much too old to keep a grip
on the organization--the only thing I thought he had a grip on was his
perks.  And his autocratic ways--more than once I saw him bark out a
`decision' on an issue about which he hadn't a clue--caused more confusion
and turmoil than leadership.  In spite of repeated scandals about IOC
members being bribed to vote for this city or that as Olympic sites, he
refused to concede that there might even be an issue.  A couple of members
were forced to resign, but not by the Chairman--it took a strong and vocal
majority of the committee to get it done.

   Further, the attitude seemed to be that the needs or goals of individual
athletes were irrelevant.  After all, there would always be plenty of
athletes clamoring for a chance at the Olympic Games.

   We recognized that the rest of the world would not necessarily conform
to American standards.  But we were appalled by the indifference to the
corruption and to the athletes who were the basis of it all.

   Hanna decided to try to do something about it.

   The new IOC Chairman was a much more reasonable and modern man.  He
fully recognized that the image of the organization was sadly tarnished. 
And was well aware that not many cities were interested in hosting the
games any more--it was a tremendously expensive undertaking, and couldn't
be done without substantial government help.  Further, the very expensive
facilities would not pay for themselves after the Games, in many locations;
Nagano, Japan, being a prime example.



   A woman who was fun to be around, Hanna was immensely popular with the
public and the media.  Most of the USOC members were very fond of her, too.
The meetings and dinners and private conversations that went with the job
were a lot more fun with Hanna involved.

   So when she quietly started lobbying for better accountability in the
IOC--and more compliance with normal international rules and practices,
eliminating the ability of minor officials from third world countries to
change things at the last minute to benefit athletes from their part of the
world--her peers took it seriously.  Many of them took the attitude, "If it
makes Hanna happy..."

   Naturally, this did not make Hanna--or me, by association--especially
popular with the international officials from "developing" countries.  But
I found that, most everywhere in the world, the athletes and the officials
on the ground working the meets approved.

   After a year during which a scandal involving particularly blatant
bribery to get votes for a city to win hosting of the games broke, the USOC
approved a resolution calling on the IOC to make some fairly basic
reforms--including better responsiveness to the needs of the athletes;
elimination of the ability of officials to arbitrarily change the rules
after the games started; and strong accountability on gifts and "perks"
that might be construed as bribes for voting to bring the games to any
particular city.

   Of course the IOC contended, loudly and vigorously, that there were no
problems and that the resolution was an unnecessary slap in the face. 
Indeed, the new Chairman was doing his very best to accomplish these
things, too.  But the IOC bureaucracy--and members from many third-world
countries--felt threatened.



   Year after year, the US sent the largest contingent of athletes to the
games, and the largest numbers of spectators--after the host country and
nations immediately adjoining it.  Without the US, the Moscow Games were a
flop, though the tit-for-tat Russian boycott of the LA Games didn't make
much difference.  Revenues from US television are certainly a requirement
for staging a modern Olympics.

   In other words, strong US support is an economic necessity for the
games--though the IOC continued to resist US `pressures' to clean up their
act.

   When a committee of the US Congress called well-publicized hearings on
the situation, including a subpoena of the IOC Chairman, who was mauled
pretty badly, it was the end for the autocrats.  They were all too well
aware that the games were a gold mine in normal times--but would be a
disaster without US involvement and TV revenue.

   Under pressure, the IOC made some fundamental changes--not as sweeping
as the USOC would have preferred, but enough.  The new Chairman impressed
the world, and especially the US sports fan, that he was doing all that
could be done to end the abuses.





   It only took me a couple of years to decide to "retire" from the discus,
too.  Track meets weren't new and exciting any more... And we didn't need
the income.

   I was promptly offered two new jobs.

   Amazing myself--though Hanna smirked--I took both.

   The first was a seat on the USOC.  Hanna was a real `presence' on the
committee.  We hoped I could be, too.

   When the 49ers offered me a "front office" job, I thought seriously
about declining.  Hanna pointed out that I was still fascinated by football
and that this was a good way to stay involved, and perhaps make a positive
difference in an excellent organization.  They wanted me to do two things
for them.  The first was to interview and investigate the players on a
short list of "top prospects" from the college ranks.  This would help
decide how to go on draft day--who would fit the 49ers and who
wouldn't--and which players we might draft as trade bait, without the
intent of keeping them.  The second phase of the job was to help rookies
adjust to the demands of the NFL in general and the 49ers specifically. 
That would commence right after draft day, and continue through the rookie
year.  I had assistants to help with the time-consuming parts of the job.
My focus was the straight talk and advice on any and everything from
agents, groupies, and investments... as well as the rigors of training
camp, road trips, and wives who turned from seductive coeds to mercenary
bitches.

   I still had plenty of time for travel, family, and checking on my
investment results.

   I had too much time to worry about Moira.



   After Hanna, I loved Moira more than anyone.  I fretted that she was
missing so much, except when Jason was there to describe things to her.

   Whenever I tried to express my worry to her, she's just giggle, hug me,
and say, "I love you too, Daddy!"

   Hanna just smiled.  When she thought I was dwelling on it too much,
she'd say, "The girl's just fine, Gary.  Quit worrying.  She's healthy and
happy, and loves life.  What more can you ask?  So knock it off!"

   I tried... but I was still concerned.



   And so we grew, and lived and loved and enjoyed what we were doing.  Our
work with the USOC, and the travel that required, provided a number of
interesting family opportunities.  And my "scouting" work kept me traveling
around the US enough that I didn't get restless.

   I found the work with the 49ers rookies surprisingly satisfying.  All of
these young men were used to being the "star" of their team, with coaches,
parents, and fans fawning over them.  Now they were in an extremely
Darwinian system where no one cared very much what they had done, or how
good somebody said they were.  In the NFL, it was a matter of "what can you
do for me today--and tomorrow?"

   Also, many were woefully uneducated, and had more money in their pockets
than they had ever seen before.

   I had one-on-one meetings with as many as possible before training camp
started.  Then I had classes during "rookie camp".  Among other things, I
told them I was available for help and advice at need--but not to expect me
to clean up after their messes.  If they screwed up, it was not my problem.

   Some came, for advice or encouragement.  Others called when they were in
trouble.  I helped and advised as I could.  But I did not patch up problems
with a girl friend, or bail them out after being busted with drugs.  (I had
told them all--several times--that I would advise, but not clean up after.
"Do I look even a little bit like your mother?  ... Well, maybe yours,
Koswolski...) The point was that they were adults, with adult
responsibilities.  Neither I, nor anyone else in the organization would
hold their hands like college coaches had.

   My NFL career was illustrious enough that even the most dense young
player paid attention to what I told him.  Many came to me for advice on
all sorts of problems--often financial, but sometimes seeking help dealing
with a wife who was smarter and better educated.  And all who made even a
little effort came to know my family--becoming buddies with Moira, to
Hanna's great amusement.

   The job was a labor of love for me.  I enjoyed the work and knew that I
was making a contribution to the success of the team.

   Hanna and the kids loved the access to the owner's sky-box during home
games.  Moira soon became a buddy of Eddie's, using that same magic she
used with the players.



   It got to the point that team social functions--including barbeques in
my backyard--weren't "official" unless Moira was included.  She and Jason,
thus, were often the only children in a room or home, filled with larger
than average men and their prettier than average women.

   I asked Jason if he didn't feel uncomfortable or bored, when he and his
sister were the only kids among that many adults.

   "Not at all, Dad.  Moira just loves those times, and she can't do them
without me to guide her, and describe things to her.  I like it a lot.  She
just glows around those guys.  That makes it a good time for me, too. 
We're both welcome and feel a part of things.  We're not bored, Dad."

   Moira just noted that the guys were big.  "I feel like I'm talking to
their belly buttons a lot, Dad," she'd say with a smile.  "But they are so
friendly, I just love them all.  And their ladies are mostly nice, too. 
The only one I had a problem with got traded--actually, my only problem was
with his wife.  I always like Augie just fine..."

   The coaches even made a special effort to ensure that Moira was included
in everything that was even remotely appropriate.  Hanna appreciated it and
I enjoyed it, knowing that it kept us even more strongly in the "49er
family".

   We were living a productive, rewarding life.  The best thing was that we
recognized this, and enjoyed our good fortune, while not getting carried
away with it all.