~Subject: The Basketball Team #7 nc s&m r s
~From: rgfish@rpaladin.win.net (Richard G Fischer)

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                       THE BASKETBALL TEAM #7
                        by PARKER / PALADIN

   Frank and Tiny arrived at the auditorium early. The bookie had
had a busy afternoon, setting up bets, arguing odds, collecting
money... if things went as he expected at the game, he would be
collecting a large amount of money. If not... well, he'd take it
out of Larry's black hide. Still, there was always more money to
made. Followed by Tiny, he headed to the slowly developing island
of white faces in the black ocean of the auditorium seats.

   Still more money to be made...

   In the first row, a tall, white haired man sat there with an
attractive, much younger redhead. Frank thought she looked a lot
like the girl Larry had back in the old high school, with auburn
hair and green eyes, but he couldn't be sure. Woman looked the part
of a rich housewife: she was wearing a mink coat and long, diamond
earrings. Frank studied her appreciatively for a moment and then
turned his attention to the mark. 

   <Man have good taste, Frank thought, thinking of the redhead,
and from the look of that suit, money too.>

   Frank walked up to the man. "Hello there," Frank greeted
offering his hand, "Name's Fast Frank Smith. You'll here for the
game? Why I bet you got a little. .. un on the team. Sure a great
day for it." The bookie talked fast, his smile was disarming.

   "Tom O'Donald," the white man said reluctantly taking the black
man's hand. "and yes, my daughter is on the team. She will be a
starting guard. "

   "Just like her father," the redhead added, gripping her
husband's are nervously. "He played at Seaton Hall in his day." The
woman looked at Tiny, intimidated by his size.

   "That a fact?" Frank said, nodding. "My little un's on the other
team, but she ain't so good. Think they'll just let her little butt
warm the ben..." He stopped and looked at the man's wife. "Oh scuse
me, Misses. I mean she be second string. Yea thas what i means."

   "Oh, well, not every one can be first string," the man said
magnaminously, "And I did my share of warming the bench. But
Melanie... Now she's an athlete. With this win, I'll see about
getting her a scholarship to college. Always important to be on the
championship team and play ball in college. Gets you in with the
right people." 

   "Sure do, don't it." Frank agreed, his smile widening. His
gleaming white teeth almost glowed under the bright light. "Say...
how 'bout we make a little wager on the outcome? You know make it
interesting for the grown folks."

   Tom looked doubtful. "Gambling is illegal. Besides I don,t see
where your team has a chance." Tom tried to hide his smile. He knew
the fix was in. Hell, he had helped put it in himself. Cost him...
wait a minute.. "Course," he added, "you folks do have a lot of
talent."

   "Oh yea. Right. Be illegal. But I knows the folks on the other 
team want to express confidence in their chidren. If'n you'll 
don't want to express confidence in you'rn. I'll understand.  Might
get beat by us poor black folks." 

   Frank played Tom like he did the catfish back home. His
disarming smile never left his face.

   The man still looked uncertain, but then: "Tom we have to." His
wife, the redhead, spoke up. "I mean it would be just a token of
faith in Melanie and the hard work Synthia's done with the girls."

   Tom shrugged. "How about five dollars?"

   "Well if'n that's all you think your daughter's team worth."
Frank said taking out his roll of bills. "Yes sir... I's this
confident in our poor girls, but maybe with your job in jeopardy it
be all you can afford... 

   "Toooommm..." His wife pulled at his arm, encouraging him to
increase his bet.

   The man sighed. "Wait a minute. I have confidence in Melanie and
Synthia. I just don't want to take your money. And my job's just
fine; I'm a lawyer - partner actually - and I'll..." He looked at
his wife for a moment and then turned back to the bookie. "...up
that to $100."

   Frank grinned. "Now we getting there. What odds I got to give
you? Two to one seem fair?" 

   "Now wait a minute. Our team is better but I don't see that we 
should..." 

   "No man," the bookie interrupted. "I give you the odds. You'll
team win, I gives you $2 for each $1 you'se put up."

   "Well... if you are sure you want to do this... I mean our team
is favored... I mean..." The man looked confused.

   Frank grinned. Time to move on. "Man, you seem to lack
confidence in you'ne." He shook his head and then looked up at the
other white parents in the crowd. "Maybe someun else here want to
bet with us folks," he called out.

   "OK OK," Tom gave in. "Put me down for $500 of that."  Another
white man leaned down from his seat and asked: "Can I  get some of
this?"

   "Sure you can," Frank told him. "How much you want?" 

   Deals were made quickly and soon Frank had all his money
covered. Small potatoes, really, but not bad. As game time
approached, the bookie turned to leave the white section of the
bleachers.

   "Wait a minute," Tom said. "How do we find you when we win?"

   Frank looked shocked that anyone would question his honesty. "I
be an honest man," he answered, "but to show my good faith, I'se
let your fine wife here hold the money." He leaned over to the
redhead. "Here y'go maam. You keeps it till the final outcome." He
straightened up and looked down at Tom. How's that?" 

   Tom nodded. "Well, that's fine. And you have our word that we
will treat you fairly." 

   "Well..." Now it was Frank's turn to look doubtful. "That is a
lot of money.... 'specially with all these bad niggars round here.
Suppose my friend Tiny here sit with your wife to see  to it no
harm comes to you'll or the money." 

   "Well, uh... that's OK... I guess." Tom turned to his wife, who
was holding a bag full of money on her lap. "OK with you honey??"

   "Well.. I don't know... I , uh..." she answered, looking over at
Tiny's smiling face.

   Frank looked thoughtful. "OK... tell you'll what: we have her
sit at the officials table, down there in plain sight all the time.
And I'll sit with you." 

   "Well, I guess..." Tom was unsure of where this was leading. "OK 
with you honey?"

   His wife looked uncomfortable, but she nodded her acceptance.
What could happen to her out there in plain sight?

   The bookie smiled. "Yes maam. You'll get right over there with
the boy Tiny here. He take good care of you and the money be safer
there."

   Tiny offered his hand and helped the woman down to the small
official's table. She shot her husband an angry look as she passed
by, but didn't say anything. She just walked down to the table with
Tiny close behind.

   <Some fine ass on this bitch, Tiny thought. Frank going to have
the money but I going get my bonus off'en this bitch here. Wonder
if she moans like that coach done when I put it to her. Bet she
do.> Frank grinned and took his seat beside Tom. <Frank sat back
and was satisfied with his self. Poor fool here lose his money and
with that tenting in Tiny's pants going to lose the fine bitch too
come the end of the game.>

   "Just in time," Tom commented. "Here come the teams."