[legendsport]

Detroit, MI: September 11, 1921:

"Hey... welcome to Detroit," Joe Barrell said with a smile as his brother stepped down from the train.

"I can't believe I let you talk me into this," Rollie Barrell complained. Then he smiled and said, "But, hey, it's always good to see you, you big lug."

The brothers hugged as the stream of people hustling and bustling through the Michigan Central Station moved around and past them. Rollie popped his hat onto his head and said, "So... where's the meeting again?"

"Statler Hotel... I have a cab waiting, come on," Joe said and clasped a hand on his brother's shoulder.

During the ride Rollie filled Joe in on what had been going on. Oxendine, in the fashion typical for him (he correctly saw his position as President as largely ceremonial), had told Rollie that "you work it out with Boon and your brother. As far as I'm concerned you can play anywhere you'd like." Rollie had decided to check out the East Coast first. As Joe had surmised, Rollie looked into playing in New York, preferably in Riverside Park, right across the street from the Bigsby Oval. But the Blue Laws still prevented Sunday football. Next he checked on Philadelphia.... the same. That was why he had landed on Chicago - he needed a big city.

"It had to be a large city, Joe," he said and then leaned over and whispered, "Francie's pregnant. So I need to get this right."

Joe was surprised - and thrilled for his brother. That did explain why he landed on Chicago. Joe had spoken to Rufus - say what you might about the elder Barrell, but the guy had some serious connections. It was Rufus who suggested Detroit. "Talk to George Theobald," he suggested. "He owns a chunk of the Dynamos and he's a lot easier to deal with than old man Thompson."

So Rollie and Joe set up the meeting.

As Joe paid the cabbie, Rollie looked over the entrance to the hotel. Nestled in a park, it was very nice. He'd heard that Theobald had good taste and manners. And he was, according to Rufus, very much a by-the-book type, but open-minded to business opportunities.

They met Theobald in the hotel lobby. An attractive woman, apparently in her early thirties and with two kids in tow, was sitting with the tall, thin Theobald when they approached him.

He rose and shook hands. "This is my daughter, Charlotte Cleaves. And my grandsons, Jack and George." It looked like Jack was about to stick a finger in his brother's ear when he heard his grandfather say his name and promptly squared himself away and managed to look innocent and angelic as the old man turned and gave him a look.

"Behave, Jack," he said.

Rollie nudged Joe and whispered, "Kind of acts like our Jack, eh, Joe?"

Joe smirked, but he had his eyes on Theobald's tall, thin and blonde-headed daughter. Rollie cocked an eyebrow and gave Joe another nudge. "Business, rememmber?" he chided.

Theobald was explaining that Mrs. Cleaves and her sons were visiting from Kentucky where her husband was working for the railroad. "I hope you won't mind if they join us for lunch," Theobald said.

Joe nodded while Rollie said, "Not at all, Mr. Theobald. It'll be our pleasure."

After they had been seated (Rollie noted that Joe had deftly seated himself directly across from Charlotte), Theobald got down to business. "So, Roland, I spoke with your father on the phone and he mentioned you own a football club and are looking to relocate from... Rochester, was it?"

Rollie glanced to his right where Joe was grinning at Charlotte Cleaves.

"Yes, sir. Rochester is a fine city, but it's not exactly a big league city, if I'm speaking plainly. My brother here," he nudged Joe and gave him a warning look before continuing, "and his partner, Mr. Carl Boon, operate a club in Chicago so I was hoping to likewise find a large city for my team."

Joe glanced over at his brother and then Theobald, saying, "That's right, sir." Then he turned his attention back to Charlotte. Meanwhile her sons were fidgeting but Rollie saw that she and Joe were too busy making cow eyes at each other to notice.

Rollie wondered what the hell was going on with his brother, but decided to soldier on. "My father mentioned that you might be willing to help us secure a lease to play at Thompson Field?"

"Yes, I think we could work something out. The ballpark is empty after our season ends and even were we to win the pennant, we could work out the scheduling. It would certainly be good to make some money in the offseason." The Dynamos were having a poor season - Theobald had won the pennant (and the World Championship) in his first season in Detroit in '19 and finished 2nd the next year, but were currently 6th and not a factor this season. 'Toothpick' Theobald as he was known in the game, was the most respected manager in baseball and Rollie knew it was likely the Dynamos would be a factor in the pennant race most seasons with Theobald at the helm.

The older man smiled and said, "It's just a matter of working out the details." He pursed his lips and added, "My partner - who is the majority owner of the ballpark as well as the team - is," he paused and frowned before continuing, "difficult at times. But he's a smart and shrewd businessman. So the deal will be fair, but as he's not one for pleasantries and platitudes I will do the bargaining on behalf of the Detroit Baseball Club, you understand."

Rollie nodded - his father had told him as much. "Yes, sir. I am more than happy to work exclusively with you on the details. We're a bit under the gun, in terms of timing. Our season starts in three weeks, but we have our league meetings on the 21st."

Joe had been half-listening to this... now as Theobald and Rollie began to talk numbers and percentages, he turned his full attention to the lovely Mrs. Cleaves.

One of the kids - the little one - George, was it? - tapped him on the arm.

"Hey mister, I heard that you beat up my father."

Joe was stunned and momentarily speechless. "Huh?" he blurted.

Charlotte rolled her eyes and put her hand on Joe's. "Georgie is partially correct, Mr. Barrell."

Joe said, "I don't understand. I don't remember even meeting anyone named Cleaves, let alone fighting him."

Charlotte smiled. "My husband was a boxer. He fought under the name Kid Donnelly."

Joe's eyes widened. He remembered Donnelly. That guy, in Joe's opinion, had had no business fighting someone like him. "Oh... yes, I remember Kid Donnelly." He smirked. "That was your husband?"

She nodded and winked at him. "Indeed it was. I was at that fight. You really demolished him."

Joe blushed, but as he remembered it, he did in fact demolish the poorly named "Kid" - that guy had to be at least ten years older than Joe. Joe had knocked him out in the first round. He seemed to remember Edna being excited by Joe's dominating performance - and to look and listen to Charlotte Cleaves, she - surprisingly - had the same reaction.

"Sorry about that..." Joe said, not feeling - or sounding - the least bit sincere.

Now the other kid - Jack - spoke up. "My father stopped fighting after that. Said when a kid like you could knock him out that easily it was time to hang up the gloves."

Joe gave the boy the once-over. He was about the same age as Joe's brother Tommy, who was... Joe thought about it... thirteen.

He had a feeling... after all, if anyone knew the type, it'd be a Barrell. "You play baseball, kid?" Joe asked.

Jack perked up. "Sure do. My grandad says I could make it all the way to FABL someday!"

"Me too!" crowed the younger one (maybe about the same age as 8-year-old Harry). "And I'm going to be a catcher just like my grandad!"

Joe chuckled and said, "You sound like my brother Freddy. He wants to be a FABL catcher too. Maybe you'll all make it and play against each other someday..." Joe figured the odds on that were pretty long, but hey, they were kids, so no need to crush their dreams... Not to mention that their mother was sending him some serious signals. As a pro football player Joe was away from home a lot and had already discovered that the ladies seemed to like him as much as he liked them. Joe was no choir boy, and he enjoyed their attentions, even though he knew he shouldn't.

Charlotte was giving Joe an appraising look of her own. "So you gave up fighting too, Mr. Barrell?"

"I did. I discovered that football gives me the same kind of thrill and lets me exercise my need for... mayhem." He grinned wickedly before adding, "And please, call me Joe."

She smiled back. "And you simply must call me Charlotte, Joe."

Joe noticed that her hand was still warmly laid over his own. He glanced down at it, and she squeezed gently. When he raised his eyes, he found her staring into them. Hmm.....