Third Down, Time To Cry
Chas Baker was a large man, even by NFL standards. He had played nine seasons of professional football as a left guard. Every sports writer in America called Chas the best lineman in the business.
One Thursday an assistant coached said, "Chas, you got a message."
"From who?" asked Chas.
"Cynthia," said the coach. "She said she needs to see you right after practice."
Chas was knocking on his sister's door in twenty minutes. "Oh Chas, thank god you’re here," said Cynthia.
"What's going on sis?" said Chas.
"I can't thank you enough Chas. Brenda had a family emergency and canceled at the last minute. I called the agency but they didn‘t have anyone. Oh my god, I‘ve been going crazy!" said Cynthia rambling into one long unending sentence. "I knew I could count on you."
"Where are you going?" said Chas.
"I'm being honored by the AMA for my research, remember? The ceremony is tomorrow morning. I've got to leave tonight." Cynthia was speaking so fast that Chas couldn't keep up. "She's sleeping right now. There's plenty of diapers, plenty of food. I'll be back on Saturday. Thank you again Chas. Take care." Chas’ sister sprinted down the stoop to a waiting cab. She waved out the window at him as the cab disappeared into traffic.
"God damn it!" said Chas, standing on the doorstep. "She just suckered me. I let her do an end run around me." He went inside and slammed the door. That's when the noise started. It pierced Chas' spine. He asked himself what could make such a horrible noise. Then the answer came. Plenty of diapers. Plenty of food. She left him with the baby!
He ran up the stairs taking them three at a time. The cry was a beacon that led him to the baby. Chas stood over the crib and looked at her. He picked her up and said "What the hell am I suppose to do with you? I don't know a thing about kids. All I know is football."
The baby's crying stopped. She and Chas stared at each other. "Well," Chas said at last. "I guess this means you trust me. Lets make a deal. My slamming the door probably woke you up. So, I'll promise to be more quiet, and you do the same. Now I'll let you go back to sleep."
Chas put her back down, and she started to cry again. Chas told her that they had a deal and she should stop. She didn't, until he picked her up again. "So that's it. You want to be held. That can't be that difficult. You don't weigh much." He cradled her in the crook of his elbow like a football as if he were going to make a side line run with her.
"Come on kiddo," said Chas. "Let's go downstairs." Fifteen minutes later, Chas got soaked. He had to open every cabinet in the nursery to find the diapers. When he opened the diaper, he was so shocked that he stepped back and fell into the closet. Just as he was fastening the clean diaper, the baby wet again. He used half of the wet-wipes cleaning her and the other half cleaning him. Chas couldn't shake the fear that he was going to break the baby. That's when she started to cry again.
"Now what?" said Chas. "Are you hungry? How about if we go see what's in the kitchen." On his first try at mixing a bottle he spilled it all over the counter. He put the bottle in the microwave to heat it. Two minutes later, the bottle was been melted down to a plastic mass. When Chas tried to take it out, it broke open and spilled down his front. He made another mess mixing another bottle and heated it ten seconds until it was barely warm. She took two swallows from the bottle and spit it out. Then he found the baby food in the refrigerator next to the pre-mixed bottles. He gave her beets. She gave them back. She did accept peaches. Then she finished the bottle and fell back to sleep.
Chas was more tired than ever. He felt like he had just played a hard game. He spent the evening running in circles. On the field he could read any defense and know what they were going to do. He had a play for everything that could happen. Nothing could surprise him. "I should make some plays for babysitting," said Chas. "If I had some plays, I could be ready for her. She couldn't surprise me."
Chas found paper and a pencil. He thought of everything the baby could do to him, and made two plays for each possibility. If one didn't work he could switch to the alternate. He had eighteen plays. After he had them memorized, he showered and went to bed.
At four a.m. Chas got to test his plays. He stumbled into the nursery. "Hi kiddo, what's wrong?" She was wet. "Wet diaper. D-1." He ran his play. It went quick, by the numbers, and just as Chas drew it. The baby was changed and back to sleep in ten minutes. In the morning Chas ran D-1 smoothly. Then they went to the kitchen. Chas started to run pattern F-1. The baby started an end run, but Chas switched to F-2 and had her fed. The only thing Chas didn't have a play for was when the baby stayed awake and wanted to play.
Cynthia got home at eleven a.m. Saturday as promised. She called out, "Chas, we're home."
Chas walked into the living room with his little football. "How was the trip?"
"It was fantastic," said Cynthia. "It was a beautiful ceremony. Thank you for taking care of her for me Chas."
Chas handed the baby back to Cynthia. "We had a lot of fun together. Next time give more notice, though."
"Sure," said Cynthia.
Chas said, "I'd like to chat sis, but if I miss practice I'm a dead man. I'll see you Monday."
"O.K. Take care and don't get hurt," said Cynthia. Chas was closing the door when Cynthia noticed the paper on the table. "Chas wait! You forgot your playbook."
Chas stuck his head back in the door and said, "Leave it here. I might need it next time I baby-sit."
Chas Baker was a large man, even by NFL standards. He had played nine seasons of professional football as a left guard. Every sports writer in America called Chas the best lineman in the business.
One Thursday an assistant coached said, "Chas, you got a message."
"From who?" asked Chas.
"Cynthia," said the coach. "She said she needs to see you right after practice."
Chas was knocking on his sister's door in twenty minutes. "Oh Chas, thank god you’re here," said Cynthia.
"What's going on sis?" said Chas.
"I can't thank you enough Chas. Brenda had a family emergency and canceled at the last minute. I called the agency but they didn‘t have anyone. Oh my god, I‘ve been going crazy!" said Cynthia rambling into one long unending sentence. "I knew I could count on you."
"Where are you going?" said Chas.
"I'm being honored by the AMA for my research, remember? The ceremony is tomorrow morning. I've got to leave tonight." Cynthia was speaking so fast that Chas couldn't keep up. "She's sleeping right now. There's plenty of diapers, plenty of food. I'll be back on Saturday. Thank you again Chas. Take care." Chas’ sister sprinted down the stoop to a waiting cab. She waved out the window at him as the cab disappeared into traffic.
"God damn it!" said Chas, standing on the doorstep. "She just suckered me. I let her do an end run around me." He went inside and slammed the door. That's when the noise started. It pierced Chas' spine. He asked himself what could make such a horrible noise. Then the answer came. Plenty of diapers. Plenty of food. She left him with the baby!
He ran up the stairs taking them three at a time. The cry was a beacon that led him to the baby. Chas stood over the crib and looked at her. He picked her up and said "What the hell am I suppose to do with you? I don't know a thing about kids. All I know is football."
The baby's crying stopped. She and Chas stared at each other. "Well," Chas said at last. "I guess this means you trust me. Lets make a deal. My slamming the door probably woke you up. So, I'll promise to be more quiet, and you do the same. Now I'll let you go back to sleep."
Chas put her back down, and she started to cry again. Chas told her that they had a deal and she should stop. She didn't, until he picked her up again. "So that's it. You want to be held. That can't be that difficult. You don't weigh much." He cradled her in the crook of his elbow like a football as if he were going to make a side line run with her.
"Come on kiddo," said Chas. "Let's go downstairs." Fifteen minutes later, Chas got soaked. He had to open every cabinet in the nursery to find the diapers. When he opened the diaper, he was so shocked that he stepped back and fell into the closet. Just as he was fastening the clean diaper, the baby wet again. He used half of the wet-wipes cleaning her and the other half cleaning him. Chas couldn't shake the fear that he was going to break the baby. That's when she started to cry again.
"Now what?" said Chas. "Are you hungry? How about if we go see what's in the kitchen." On his first try at mixing a bottle he spilled it all over the counter. He put the bottle in the microwave to heat it. Two minutes later, the bottle was been melted down to a plastic mass. When Chas tried to take it out, it broke open and spilled down his front. He made another mess mixing another bottle and heated it ten seconds until it was barely warm. She took two swallows from the bottle and spit it out. Then he found the baby food in the refrigerator next to the pre-mixed bottles. He gave her beets. She gave them back. She did accept peaches. Then she finished the bottle and fell back to sleep.
Chas was more tired than ever. He felt like he had just played a hard game. He spent the evening running in circles. On the field he could read any defense and know what they were going to do. He had a play for everything that could happen. Nothing could surprise him. "I should make some plays for babysitting," said Chas. "If I had some plays, I could be ready for her. She couldn't surprise me."
Chas found paper and a pencil. He thought of everything the baby could do to him, and made two plays for each possibility. If one didn't work he could switch to the alternate. He had eighteen plays. After he had them memorized, he showered and went to bed.
At four a.m. Chas got to test his plays. He stumbled into the nursery. "Hi kiddo, what's wrong?" She was wet. "Wet diaper. D-1." He ran his play. It went quick, by the numbers, and just as Chas drew it. The baby was changed and back to sleep in ten minutes. In the morning Chas ran D-1 smoothly. Then they went to the kitchen. Chas started to run pattern F-1. The baby started an end run, but Chas switched to F-2 and had her fed. The only thing Chas didn't have a play for was when the baby stayed awake and wanted to play.
Cynthia got home at eleven a.m. Saturday as promised. She called out, "Chas, we're home."
Chas walked into the living room with his little football. "How was the trip?"
"It was fantastic," said Cynthia. "It was a beautiful ceremony. Thank you for taking care of her for me Chas."
Chas handed the baby back to Cynthia. "We had a lot of fun together. Next time give more notice, though."
"Sure," said Cynthia.
Chas said, "I'd like to chat sis, but if I miss practice I'm a dead man. I'll see you Monday."
"O.K. Take care and don't get hurt," said Cynthia. Chas was closing the door when Cynthia noticed the paper on the table. "Chas wait! You forgot your playbook."
Chas stuck his head back in the door and said, "Leave it here. I might need it next time I baby-sit."
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