Bus Mulligan nodded sagely and said, “I like it, coach. I think it’s fine.”
Bunny said, “Bus, you and Charlie and Sancho run along. I want to talk to Hal.”
They left. Bunny grinned at me.
“Very smart,” I said. “You broke it up fast. Psychology.”
“Psychology, yes,” he admitted. “But you could get them back in line and give me a bad time, Hal.”
“Could I?”
“You’re a smart character, McKeaver,” he said. “And here’s what I want you to do. I want this rivalry maintained, but I don’t want a surly rivalry. And that’s up to you, to help me keep it on a friendly basis. Because, Hal, we’ll run into some rugged spots during the season. And then I want to be able to send the four of you in as my fat-cat offensive backfield, my surprise package. I know how much you can get out of those boys.”
Suddenly I liked the big guy better than anyone I’d ever met. And ten minutes later I was walking back toward my room, full of confidence and happiness.
I stopped, frowning a bit, and suddenly wondered if I was a sucker for his brand of psychology, too.
Then I knew I wasn’t and I walked on again. Hell, I knew he realized I was too smart to fall for a lot of silly psychology.
We had a winning season coming up. That was the only important thing.
