[legendsport]

August 3, 1921: Atlanta, GA:

"Those no good, worthless, sons of..."

"Francie! Language." Rollie Barrell was just as upset as his wife. But, like his father, he was also pragmatic. He mused for a second about how much like his mother Francie was. Maybe what they said about guys marrying women like their mothers was actually true...

Francie glared at him. He gave her a look in return that he hoped was more calming than pleading and went on, "This isn't the end of the world. I've got other talents, you know."

His wife turned her back, looking out the window of their small home on Baker Street. "Well, I guess it's a good thing they gave you that blood money after all," she said and barked a short laugh that was entirely without a trace of mirth.

"Yes, I suppose it is," Rollie replied. "Dr. Morton did say this might not be permanent."

Francie didn't move as she replied, "But it could be exactly that - permanent. He did say that too."

Dr. Wyatt Morton was a neurologist, supposedly one of the best in the world. Since being beaten by Charlie Bigsby's thugs in New York Rollie had been having headaches and dizzy spells. They had gone away for a little while, but were now back with a vengeance. These dizzy spells and headaches, so reminiscent of what his father had gone through thirty years earlier, made it impossible for Rollie to be at the top of his golf game. He could still play... but with dizziness always a possibility, the chances of competing for top prizes were somewhere only slightly north of none, and firmly in the range of slim.

Morton had been cryptic, saying that for everything they knew about the human brain there were likely dozens more they hadn't yet figured out. The bottom line, the doctor admitted, was that there was no way of knowing if these spells would be permanent, or not. Rollie felt that he had wasted his time... and money... Possum likely could have told him as much.

Francie turned to him, her eyes brimming over with tears. Her anger, so quick to spark, always burned fast and hot and then disappeared, usually leaving her awash in melancholia. Rollie had seen it before - but it was usually directed at her brother Dick and his wife, whom Francie had long ago decided was not good enough for her brother. The York family bickered a lot - far more than the much larger and rambunctious Barrell clan, at least.

"And this on top of that mess in Rochester," Francie whined.

Rollie shrugged. "I've been thinking about that."

Francie ran a hand across her eyes. Rollie reached into his pocket and handed her a handkerchief. She wiped her nose. "Thinking what, exactly?" she asked, with a more Francie-like bite in the question.

"Well, it occurs to me that with Guilders bankrupt, I can purchase his rights for a song."

Francie frowned and shot back, "That's about all his share - or yours, for that matter - are worth now, Roland."

Rollie nodded and said, "True." He extended a hand towards his wife and added, "But... I retain the rights to the franchise. I can move it wherever I like and build a new team. One that I'd run the right way. Guilders could play for me... he's actually a decent player... but his days as an owner... that's over."

The right corner of Francie's mouth dipped in a half-frown. "So you want to sink more money into this?"

Rollie nodded and said simply, "I do, yes."

"Why? It would seem more prudent to accept that this... experiment with football was a failure. Take your lumps, chalk it up as a learning experience and move on, Roland."

He was shaking his head even as Francie was still talking and immediately replied, "Ah, but I've learned a lot. And Joe's team proves you can be a success. It's just a matter of finding the right place."

"Joe's in Chicago - they could draw fans because there are more people in a big city." Francie replied.

"Precisely," Rollie replied with a grin. "Like I said, it's largely a matter of finding the right city... a big one, preferably."

Francie's frown deepened. "I will admit, you are sharp, Roland." She smirked as she continued, "If anyone could make something out of that disaster, it's probably you."

Rollie's surprised look made Francie chuckle. She continued, "But... we have a lot riding on this."

Rollie nodded and said, "Of course we do."

Now she put her hand on his arm and said, "No. You don't understand."

Rollie was confused. "What do you mean? Of course I understand."

"No, you don't." She squeezed his arm and added, "I'm pregnant, Rollie. You're going to be a father."

Rollie's eyes widened. Then he let out a whoop of joy. He swept Francie into his arms and swung her around in a circle.

"Put me down! I'm nauseous already!" she shouted, but she was laughing too.

Rollie put her down and kissed her. "A baby! That's the best news I've heard in years!" he shouted and hugged her fiercely.