“I can’t believe you’re about to lose to a guy two and a half times your age,” he says. I was able to ignore his previous insult, but I dislike when anyone predicts that I am going to fail at something. In addition, he would be 2.5 times my age only if he were one year older.
He serves, and I win the point with a strong backhand that he cannot return.
I make it 10–10, and now I have match point, although I still plan to lose this point and let him win on his serve. “C’mon, Karim,” he says. “You gonna choke now? You wanna run home to Mommy?”
I squeeze the racquet hard, which slightly pains my hand. “Is that it? You’re a mama’s boy?” he says.
He returns my serve, and I play a strong point and he mirrors my skill, but soon he makes an error and hits a floating shot, and I leverage the situation by jumping up and swinging my hardest on a smash and even yelling, which I never do.
Mr. Schrub watches the ball go past him. He smiles the widest this time and shakes my hand. “Thank God,” he says. “For a second there I was afraid you were actually going to let me win.”
I do not know what to say. “It’s okay, Karim,” he says, and puts his hand on my shoulder. “I’ve had plenty of people lose on purpose to me. I’ll take an honest, hard-fought loss over a fraudulent win any day. I can tell you’re a real player. A competitor.”
He invites me to recuperate with him in the sauna. We relax in the hydrated heat and do not say anything for a few minutes except when Mr. Schrub makes sounds because his body pains him. “Ah, I’m mature,” he says. “That’s what my wife calls me — a ‘mature man.’ I don’t know how many more years I have in me to do this.”
At first I think he is talking about racquetball, but then I realize he means work. It surprises me, because he is only 64, and many people in business work at least a decade more than that, but also he could have easily retired a long time ago, so the solitary reason to continue working is because the challenges still motivate him, as they do for me.
“What are your plans, Karim?” he asks.
“I am planning to return to the office after this,” I say.
He laughs. “That’s not what I meant. But on that note, what are you doing tomorrow night?”
“I have no plans except to work on Kapitoil,” I say.
“I’d like you to take the night off and be my guest in my luxury suite at the ball game. Game four, the Yanks could win it all.”
I tell him I am delighted to attend and ask what subway line I should take. He makes a face as if he tastes something bad. “Too crowded. I’ll send a driver to pick you up from the office. He’ll take care of everything.”
I almost say, “But the subway is fast, cheap, and entertaining; a car is none of those,” but I practice restraint.
We then consult about Kapitoil, and he asks insightful questions about the algorithms. When we are finished, Mr. Schrub walks me to the elevator. “Anytime you want a rematch, Karim, let me know,” he says, although of course I would never invite him to play. He winks and shakes my hand. “As long as you don’t let me off the hook.”
As I walk to the subway I call Zahira. It is after midnight in Doha, but she will be up studying, and I know my father will be asleep.
After she tells me that she received a perfect score on her biology test and I praise her, although I certify to praise her for studying hard and not merely for being intelligent, I say, “Zahira, I just played racquetball with Mr. Schrub.”
She becomes very stimulated, because although Mr. Schrub does not interest her the same way, I have told her much about him. “I am also going to a baseball game with him tomorrow, and it is because of the success of my new program,” I say.
“You wrote another program?” she asks. “I thought you said this was a bad time to try out new programs.”
“It is the same program as before,” I say. “I reconsidered and decided to show it to my higher-up.” She does not say anything, and I add, “I also went to a classy nightclub with my coworkers the previous night. I apologize if I email less frequently now because I am too busy with work and networking.”
“I know you are,” she says. “I tell all my friends about you. And I also remember what you always told me.”
“That if you work hard, you can achieve anything?” I ask.
She speaks very clearly: “That being a success at work does not equal being a success at life.”
I am a block away from the subway entrance. “I am about to lose our connection in the subway,” I say. “I will email you later.”
In the subway I think about how Mr. Schrub said I was a competitor. I am glad I deposited my voice recorder in my shorts pocket so that I can listen to it again.
player = someone who succeeds in the field of business, athletics, or females
pussy-willow = weak
JOURNAL DATE RECORDED: OCTOBER 27
On Wednesday morning I check my work email from home. Everyone in the office receives an email stating there have been several layoffs and that the selected employees have already been informed. I accelerate to work.
Rebecca, Jefferson, and Dan are in the pod, which relaxes me, but when Dan sees me, he puts his head in his hands.
“Did you hear the news?” he says.
“You have been laid off?” I ask.
“Yes.” He covers his eyes with his hands and vibrates as if he is crying. “And I’ve got prostate cancer.”
Rebecca says, “Don’t be an asshole, Dan,” and I see he is vibrating from laughing. “He doesn’t have cancer.”
“Sorry.” Dan wipes his left eye. “There were less layoffs than expected. And none of us are laid off.”
“Yes, there were fewer layoffs than expected,” Rebecca says. “And none of us is laid off.”
Rebecca has optimal grammar.
“Neither of those subjects is something about which you should make jokes,” I say to Dan.
I also have strong grammar skills.
That afternoon I receive my paycheck. It is three times the normal value. I email Mr. Ray about the error and ask if I should contact Human Resources. He writes back:
The paycheck is correct. We want to compensate you accordingly for the profits Kapitoil continues to bring in. Enjoy the bonus-you deserve it.
I cannot believe this is the true amount of my salary. It’s about as much as I made in three months in Doha, or as much as my father makes in half a year at his store. But Mr. Ray is correct: I do merit it, because I have accumulated even greater profits for Schrub and its shareholders. Although some people lost their jobs, it’s probably because they’re not producing profits for the company. And if Kapitoil continues to perform high-end, possibly we can rehire those former employees or new ones.
I find it difficult to work the rest of the day as I think about tonight. I still know very little about baseball compared to Dan and Jefferson. However, I have been reading about the mathematics behind baseball called sabermetrics, and I spend another hour in the afternoon researching the players on the Yankees and the Atlanta Braves. Today one of the Yankees’ stars, named Paul O’Neill, found out that his father died, although he’s still going to play.
I have to leave work earlier than usual so the driver has time to navigate the traffic to Yankee Stadium. Fortunately Dan and Jefferson depart earlier than I do, so I do not have to explain why I am going, but when I retrieve my briefcase Rebecca says she will walk out with me.
“Kind of early for you to be heading out, isn’t it?” she asks as we wait for the elevator.
“As you said, I especially work a little too hard.”
We step into the elevator, and her eyebrows squeeze together, which I find not sexy but still pleasant to observe. “When did I say that?”