Northwestern pre-game

            My last conversation with Lloyd had kind of disturbed me. I had been experiencing lots of the weird little flashes, and I had the odd sensation that I knew things that I had no way of knowing.

            One of the flashes involved a conversation with Mrs. DuMont. The memory was difficult to get a hold of. It was like one of those dreams that seem so vivid when it is playing out on your subconscious silver screen, but once you wake up, the details disperse like kids at a house party when the cops show up.

            I kept at it, trying to solidify the signal my brain was sending me, while at the same time trying to overcome the obvious barrier that had been placed in its way. I'm not sure if it was physical, chemical, or psychological, but there was definitely  something spoofing my mind.

            The best I was able to come up with, was Mrs. Dumont explaining how their organization was beneficial to the kids, I'm sorry, student athletes who compute for the University. It wasn't a booster club; booster clubs have to register and follow rules and make signs and appear at functions, etc. My brain flashed a picture of her waving her hand in an idle, dismissive way. No, her group on a much more, sub-rosa, behind the scenes sort of way.

            I asked her to give me an example, because I'm really not all that switched on, and I definitely don't get organized power structures. She did seem to like how I had picked up on the idea that she seemed to be the one in charge of everything.

            I have my moments.

            She took me to a room. A guy sat at a desk with three computer monitors on it. Mrs. DuMont said that morale was a very important element of an athlete's performance. Sometimes. a nice, little surprise would just magically appear for them. "Let's say, a player can't afford to take his girlfriend out on a date. A movie and pizza, let's say. We have the ability to get gift cards into the hands of the players for the theater and any of several pizza places, downtown. Let's say one of the volleyball players needs some car repairs, we take care of it. Let's say a player is going through a rough break up, we provide an opportunity for him to forget the old girlfriend with a new one."

            "Doesn't that violate just about every NCAA rule in the book?" I asked, in disbelief.

            "Well, if you're going to be poopy about it," she shook her head. "The NCAA is mainly concerned with the school following the rules. That's why Nebraska self-reports the tiniest little infractions. It's so cute and quaint."

            "Other places have gotten into trouble for providing, what is the term, extra benefits to athletes," I countered.

            "Again, that is for the registered booster clubs, and stupid assistant coaches looking to make a name for themselves. We, on the other hand, operate through layers and connections so convoluted, that it makes the mafia look like a linear flow chart. We're more like the Pentagon, we take money in at one end, we rattle it around a bit, and it comes out the other end in a completely unrecognizable form."

            "So, how does all of this pertain to me?" I asked.

            "We have picked you to see if you fit in to our organization on a probationary basis. You have been quite impressive, thus far, and we want to see if you can maintain your momentum."

            I was really getting twisted around. It was obvious that I had been lured into this situation, but I couldn't figure out why they wanted me. I don't have the money to play with the big kids. My job doesn't really run up against law enforcement or legal aspects, too often, more like the moral turpitude realm. "What do want with me?"

            "I'd like to hear what you think of the upcoming Nebraska-Northwestern game. You have been quite astute, lately, and you seem to approach things in a manner, that we can appreciate."

            I tried to give her a hard stare, but the opportunity to get deeper into just what the hell was going on had presented itself, so I jumped in. "Momentum is huge in football, both within an individual game and during a season. Nebraska has been steadily building momentum. I'm not talking straight-up wins and losses, I'm talking about 'getting it', and they are rolling. Northwestern, on the other hand has skidded, if not stopped, completely. The team that started the season at 5-0 is gone, poof, in two games. Both Iowa and Michigan play good defense, and the combined score was 78-10."

            "Go on," Mrs. DuMont said.

            "Their quarterback, Thorson, has a cool name, but is barely a 50% passer on the season, and he was less than that in the last two weeks. Both Iowa and Michigan ran on them for 200+ yards, which tells me they're vulnerable up front. On the flip side, Justin Jackson couldn't get it going against defenses that aren't as good against the run as Nebraska."

            "What else have you got?"

            "Lincoln, honoring the '95 team, with all that concentrated mojo flowing. Add in that the Huskers will be wearing their alternate unis, and coming off a good win, last week. The kids are amped, they're excited, and they get a chance to pop the smart kids in the mouth."

            "So, what is your final score, prediction?"

            I thought about it for a minute. "I love our run defense, but I'm still not sold on the secondary. We get Freedom back, and we're healthier than we have been in a long time. I want to send a statement that we are as good as Iowa and Michigan, whether or not that's actually true. I think we can score 38 on them, but we'll give up 17."

            "I like those kinds of numbers," Mrs. Dumont said.