Editor’s Note: This post originally ran in April 2018. In light of recent events,  we thought it was appropriate to rerun it and remind everyone we knew him back then…

The Violet Hour, Wicker Park. 2:47 am, April 18th, 2016

Seated about a corner table, two men in the house-featured oversized wingback chairs sit in silence. While the parties at the other tables provide atmosphere and energy to the capacity room, the two men appear disinterested in all of the establishment, their fellow occupants, and one-another, directly. The taller of the two men disrupts his alternating stares between the fire and his house old fashioned with periodic glances to his wristwatch.

A Citizen Eco-Drive. A gift from his brother. A $393.75 value.

The other man — darker, younger, and palpably anxious — spun his glass in his hands. Facing with his back to the room, he only sipped his drink when he felt his glances (they were stares; he just felt like he was glancing) around the room might have drawn attention from the other patrons or staff. While peering at a group of four older men with two younger female companions, his focus on the table only interrupted when he heard his older acquaintance speak.

“Yes darlin’. It’s a Citizen Eco-Drive. Worth about four-hundred. Well hey then, want to give me the story with the geezers and blondes over there? Something related to the legal profession, right?”

Lin Sue giggled and held her index finger to the side of her nose, winking. “So the message is that he’s parked so we expect him here any minute. Should I also have the bar prepare an old fashioned for your guest?”

“No no. I think your Hotel Internacional is more….approprié.”

The anxious man watched as the waitress again giggled, bounced twice on the balls of her feet, and spun off through the curtains. Their guest was arriving. He was relieved that it was time to get down to business.

“Are you even going to read the letter?” The envelope he had presented still sat on the table. Its condition showed that the parcel had clearly been ripped open upon receipt. The second man hadn’t even touched it though. He had not been interested in reading the letter earlier and he would not become interested at any point during this meeting.

“So, just to make sure we’re on the same page here, you pissed hot. You took a supplement that was designed to help you counter the elevation in Denver and, for some reason, you continued its use when you were in Chicago.

Chicago.

Elevation six-hundred.”

“Look, you never told me –”

“First of all, I never anything’d you. Got it? I’m out of the league but I’m a hero for life. I am enshrined as an NFL good guy and there’s nothing anyone is gonna say — and, I mean, especially a guy like YOU — that is gonna change that. So if you want to have any hope of getting back in the game — hell, if you want to have any hope of not being banned from the sport altogether — you better lose all of that you and me talk.”

The younger man sat in silence, his anxiety turned to shock. He nodded.

“Look, it’d behoove us both to get this little this incident behind us. I know you’re pissed about it. I sure as hell know I’m pissed. But this isn’t about feelings. This is about damage control. And this guy is one of the best when it comes to that.”

“How do you even know him? I’d asked around at the last NFLPA meeting about getting a fixer and nobody mentioned this guy.”

“You’re not asking the right people. Look, I’ll tell you right now, there’s little appetite for PED apologists amongst the fan base. But, while this guy likely won’t be able to get the suspension overturned, if I’ve learned one thing by studying the Tennessee electorate in my near-run for Senate, it’s that football fans are three things; forgiving, loyal, and grossly misinformed. We’re at least going to keep you from being cast as a pariah in the football community and make sure we keep your options open to do broadcasting or putting your name on a series of regional high school passing camps some day.”

Lin Sue returned and set down a Hotel Internacional before the third chair at the table. Stepping aside — but just slightly, as to prevent the new patron from completely avoiding incidental contact while seating — she promised another round for the original two members of the party.

It was immediately clear that the older man, confident and critical just a moment ago, was familiar but not experienced with the exact formalities of these types of transactions.

“Good to see you again. I’m glad you could make it out on such sort notice. Our mutual friend has made me aware of the value of your time so I won’t take any more than absolutely necessary. So with that said, Mike, I’d like to introduce –”

“No names. Uhhh, no names right now. I think, for everyone here actually, let’s just keep it down.”

Mike’s anxiousness is deafening.

“I had to drop a tail before I could head in here. That’s why I’m a little late so sorry about that. But, yeah, I’ve got just a lot happening. And now it’s actually a lot more since we actually set this up. So, these types of places — even with their no cell phone policies — I just don’t care to stay long. So, while I always enjoying getting to know clients a bit first, considering the circumstances that have brought us all together tonight, let’s agree to just get down to business and, if I can get our of here without getting photographed, you’ll both be added to my Christmas card list.”

Murmurs of agreement moved the conversation forward. Of course, that mostly meant Mike asking the taller man about a situation in which the younger man had found himself. The younger man was frustrated to hear himself being talked about right when he was present but, once Mike picked up the envelope and read the letter inside, the young man was overcome with relief and just accepted that it was the familiarity between the two men that surely lead to this questioning technique.

“And so Mark — damn, names, sorry, — well, he is in a bit of a predicament with regards to, you know, not accepting responsibility but, also, doing so in a manner that doesn’t give any further press coverage to the matter.”

Mike turned for the first time and asked Mark about the situation.

“This all sound about accurate?”

Mark nodded. Mike sighed and took his first sips of his cocktail. The tall man checked his watch.

“How about something about — and you’d have to help me with the details but I’m thinking something like this — how about a story that you were going to Mexico for some kind of youth camp or NFL-Mexico campaign thing, right? So go there and, you know, you’re bringing civility to those heathens and, next thing he knows, he must have been fed some tainted meat.”

Immediate praise was not returned.

“Seems like something Tennessee folk might be happy to accept but Mark’s in Chicago. We need more than race-baiting and bullying to compel most markets to give him another shot.”

“More than race-baiting? Is that even a thing?” Mike returned to the letter and thumbed through the test results that made up the bulk of the correspondence. “How about this? I can get a line to someone who knows the scientists behind a lot of the PED research. We get a US doctor to simply provide a letter that the cocktail for which he got pegged, that it’s used as a marinade in Mexican cattle or something.”

Mark’s stomach dropped at the realization that his career was in the hands of two men holding a brain-storming sessions. Mike noticed the desperation broadcast across Mark’s face.

“If you’re willing to get your hands a little dirty, how about we go this route? We reach our to Nyaka NiiLampti, the Director of Player Wellness, and give her some cash to sign an non-disclosure agreement with regard to these test results. Once we have her signature, we just make her retroactively say she cannot speak of the test results. We’ll just tell everyone that it was bad meat — we’ll leave out the Mexico part initially — and everyone in Chicago will just relate it with understanding because they’ve all experienced being sick as a dog from some bad sausage or whatever. I mean, we’re talking NFL markets. You think Colts fans haven’t ever regretted eating something of questionable origin?”

The taller gentleman checked his watch for the first time since Mike arrived. “This is all getting a little convoluted and I can’t see how this helps us minimize bad press. What do you have that’s more….simple?”

Mike set down his drink, clasped his hands, and looked down at the floor.

“Simplest approach? Well, we just continue to deny it. I mean, look at his play. This is Butt Fumble we’re talking about. Dude couldn’t fill a vacuum left by Brock Osweiler. Who’s going to argue the alternative? Who’s honestly going to look at these test results and think, man, my entire perception of NFL drug use has been flipped upside down!?”

Being an attorney is difficult. People want your advice so much that they’ll pay you for it. However, they’re often unhappy to hear that your advice doesn’t match up with their best wishes. Clearly, this was the case with Mark.

“Alright, fine, look. I’ll give you the best I can do for you — and I mean, you, not your football career — but you gotta be honest with me straight up — and don’t worry, this is protected by privilege, right Peyton,” the tall man nodded in agreement. “Have you knowingly taken PEDs and now this is just the first time you’ve been pegged?”

Mark pursed his lips and stared at Mike. Not a hint of judgement came from his side of the table. Mark mimicked the affirmative nod he’d witnessed just a moment ago.

Mike leans over to Peyton and they exchange a brief back and forth; Mike’s whispers sharp and indistinguishable cutting over Peyton’s, which were droll and flat — and just as undecipherable. Mike leans back and looks in control for the first moment of the meeting. He scribbles on a napkin telling Mark that, for his two cents, not to even address the story again.

“Full disclosure, I think your career is done. It’s just one of those things. But once you’re ready to hang it up for good,” Mike breaks from the napkin to sneak a peak inside his blazer pocket, the light from his cell phone casting a small illumination on his chair’s wing, “Sorry, had to make sure I gave you the right address.” He returns to scribbling. “Just go here and bring them my card. We’ll get a man of your integrity all set up.” Mike sets down the napkin, picks up the drink beside it, and downs the final gulp. “Well, if there’s anything else, you just run any concerns through Mr. Manning here. But I gotta get out of here. Thanks for the drink and let’s keep in touch.”

Mark takes the candle and holds it next to the napkin to read Mike’s writing.

[fin]