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Friday March 2

The crowd roared with applause as the Mayors burned their second timeout of the first half, just minutes after the second quarter started with an 8-0 run for the hosting Minutemen. With the lead nearing 20 points, Stefan Calico (Tabby Cat, GM/Owner, HNT) leaned back in his seat and smirked at the dismal performance of his players. Despite the extra practices he had scheduled for the three days between All-Star Weekend and this game, as well as the lineup shakeup to force the club to develop their communication skills, the teamwork was still not all there. And, looking down at the huddle from his box, neither was the respect that he had hoped would still be present for the bench and reserve players he had set up.

"What can I say, Stefan? They feed off the crowd," said a familiar voice from behind him.

The feline spun around rather quickly, his fur standing a bit on end from being startled as the source of the voice resolved itself into a well-dressed young vulpine. "Geez," yowled the cat, "don't sneak up on me like that!"

Sam Gwosdz (Red Fox, GM, WIL) stood there casually, dressed in a red Minutemen polo shirt, a blue-and-white baseball cap with the Minutemen logo on the front, and matching blue jeans. "Hey, turnabout's fair play; you snuck up on me last time," he said, grinning widely.

Catching his breath, Stefan cleared his throat and smoothed down a bit of his pelt before standing up to properly greet Williamsburg's General Manager. "Sorry, I'm just a bit distracted. Got a lot going on with the team, if you haven't noticed," he purred while extending his handpaw forward for a shake. "What do I owe for the pleasure of your very personal visit here?"

Sam nodded, accepting his handpaw and shaking it. "I just wanted to catch up. I can tell your're a bit distracted," he said. He didn't want to pry too much, but he could easily tell that John Stoat (Stoat, SG, HNT) was a mite frustrated with the Minutemen having the huge lead so early. He probably didn't care for the spectacle when Leonard Mack (Fox, PF, WIL) dared to execute a back-bump with Eric Logan (Bull Elephant, C, WIL). The aftershock shook the surrounding area and made a fan in the front row lose a handle on his beer, which made his friends laugh.

"This is the most I've ever seen Eric pumped up all year. He's really a quiet guy, rarely makes any waves. I'm not sure he likes the fans calling him 'Little Ivory', though," he chuckled.

Stefan looked over at what the fox was pointing out, and shook his head. "I really hated having to let him go, but a part of me thought he'd fit better with a fellow elephant than with the new direction I was taking my team," noted the cat. "I'm both relieved and distraught at how well he's doing with you here."

"Relieved _ and _ distraught? Sounds like that might give you some heartburn," Sam joked. "But yeah, I'm really glad he's doing well too. Everyone seems to buy the direction that Coach [Morgan] Roosevelt (Raccoon, Head Coach, WIL) wants to lead them. I feel really fortunate to work with him," he said, observing the raccoon who was in his mid-fifties. Morgan was observing the action for a few minutes, than in the next instant he held up three fingers, shouted and pointed down the court, implying he wanted things to go faster.

"Haha... Coach can also be pretty lively sometimes, too," he chuckled. Even though the fox was technically a superior to the coach, he addressed the raccoon by his title. It was his way to show respect.

The tabby rubbed his temples, trying to mask the discomfort of the stress he was under. The way that Sam expressed his admiration for the Minutemen's head coach did bring a sigh to his lips and a flick of his ears. "You are indeed lucky to have such an experienced leader to teach your younger players the ropes. As much as I would like to have that kind of relationship with Coach [Howard] Schnitthund (German Shepherd, Head Coach, HNT), I think of him more as a partner in this little quest for a championship, since we're both extremely new to each of our respective roles."

The crowd noise dropped slightly as Stoat hit a desperation three-ball to beat the shot clock, but then slowly built into a chant with Vera La Tiérra (Red Vixen, PG, WIL) bringing the ball up the court slowly and calling a play. "She's gonna be tough to hold onto after this season's over," noted the feline, "especially if you hoist the trophy this year. I get this feeling of déjà vu sometimes, though perhaps I'm just seeing things about her that remind me of [Karl] Gruber (Cougar, F, MON)."

The fox nodded, recalling the fact the Gruber signed as a free agent with the Dakota Bikers a year after being MVP of the league and leading the Minutemen to their only championship to date. "Maybe. I guess he saw the writing on the wall in regards with the talent level of the team. As for Vera, I can say this for certain: she wants to win, and she will play with a team that will give her the best opportunity to do it," he said. As if on cue, the buxom vixen skillfully bounced a backdoor pass to Logan, who slammed the rock home and set the crowd cheering again.

"So far you've done a good job of setting up the talent level for next year to encourage her to stay," said Stefan. "Though have you noticed how she and Mack have been... treating each other lately?" He gestured to the floor as the play was stopped by a foul from Marron Gwosdz (Arctic Vixen, SG) on one of Jim McCormick's (Badger, G/F) drives. The tall fox had given Vera a high-five for the previous play, though when the two separated their tails had lingered in contact with each other.

The red fox nodded and smiled a little. "Yeah, I've noticed. It hasn't progressed anything farther than that, as far as I know. I will say this: we're not the Bikers. Our players are adults: all Coach Roosevelt asks is that they give 100% for every game. Besides, how could I not notice?" he asked as McCormick took his second free throw. "Remember, my wife just fouled Jim," he chuckled. "And we still linger tail contact like that sometimes..." he added, smiling softly.

Stefan shook his head and chuckled a bit. "You and your wife. Darren Zeraus and his sister [Valencia Zeraus (Lioness, PG, NWK)]. Kinda makes me wonder how much of a 'family' business these FBA teams are. And just what the heck I'm doing here sometimes."

"I wondered the very same thing last year, several times. I was lucky to have support in Mr. Tarman," Sam said, referring to the brewery owner Jack Tarman (Tiger, Owner, WIL), the owner of the team.

"A couple of times during last season, I was feeling down, and he told me both times I was doing a great job and that he believed in me. Why else would he give a kid such an important job? I am still just 28 years old," he said matter-of-factly.

Quirking his brow and narrowing his eyes, the feline studied the vulpine for a moment. "Huh. I had you pegged to be at least 30. And hoping that you weren't just 25 either," noted the cat. "Good to know that you're probably not much older than me." He then leaned back in his chair again. "But at least you have support above you. I've still not found the right candidate to fill in our GM position, and the stress is just driving me crazy!"

Sam nodded and watched the action some more. He didn't really know what to say to that, other than the first thing that popped into his head. "Get one of those Newton's cradle toys for your office," he said, referring to the kinetic energy metal ball and string toy. "I have one, and in a weird quasi-way, they help relieve a little stress. Might help you relax and think through your options," he said.

"Got one. Would probably help if I were in the office more than 5 minutes instead of running around having power lunches with player agents and doing conference calls and interviews in meeting rooms, not to mention keeping up with Explorer Stadium security and the furs in marketing that keep trying to submit ads and promos for the home games," sighed the feline. "I don't envy your position, Sam, I just hope that you do appreciate what Jack's been doing and has done for you."

"I appreciate it more than you know, Stefan. I feel really fortunate to be the general manager of a basketball team, and I'm just doing the best job I can. Coach Roosevelt and I try to get the players to come play for the team and they do the rest," he said.

The tabby nodded and smiled, even as the the crowd rose to their feet and cheered on the Minutemen in the final minute of the half with the scoreboard showing a fat 20-point lead for the home team. "I guess that's all I can wish for my own club," he noted. "I just hope that when you guys come visit for our last matchup of the regular season that we can be more of a challenge."

"I hope so too. It wouldn't be fun if there were no challenges," Sam said, smiling back.

The cat folded his ears back as he jokingly remarked, "It's just a shame that we most likely won't be the ones to break your undefeated-at-home record this season."

"Doesn't mean you can't root for someone else to try," Sam said, grinning and clapping Stefan on the shoulder. It looked like Stefan caught Sam in a pretty good mood.

The pat on the shoulder came just as the horn sounded the end of the first half, and the feline flashed the red fox one of his mischievous grins. "Believe me, I have. Seeya after halftime?"

"Absolutely, Stefan. Catch ya later," Sam replied. The two shook paws and the fox left to go back to his box as both teams went to their respective locker rooms, the Minutemen holding a 22-point edge.

As the visiting GM watched Sam leave the box, the feline's bodyguard Leo (Black Cat) leaned over from where he was sitting and whispered something in his ear. Stefan only closed his eyes and muttered softly in reply, "I'm not getting him involved. He's probably my only friend right now outside of the organization. The less he really knows, the better off he'll be."

Leo only grunted as the halftime show started up.