Veteran Linebacker Brian Cushing is escorted into the office of his agent, Drew Rosenhaus. With his coach, Bill O’Brien, the agent delivers an insightful plea to his client. Two of the men most invested in Cushing will beg for the star to allow his individual performance to taper off. Unfortunately for them, negotiations are rarely a matter of reason in…the Twilight Zone.

“Now Brian, I’m your coach. You know I want what is best for this team and my players.”

“Fuck yeah, Coach! Gotta get paid. Gotta slay that sweet sweet pu –”

“[Interjecting]I think what my client is trying to say is that he is on-board, Coach O’Brien. Please get to the point.”

“I’m a numbers guy, Drew. And not just numbers — but trends. And the trend with Brian is, when he does well individually, the team sputters. Conversely, when Brian plays within the team (looks to Cushing) the Texans succeed, even when his individual numbers show a…reduction.”

Cushing looks to his agent with disgust. They wanted the twice-selected Defensive Rookie of the Year to ease off? “Gaaaaaaaaayyyyyyyyyyyyyyyy.”

Rosenhaus’ interest appears piqued.

“I asked to speak with both of you because,” O’Brien hands a folder to Rosenhaus, “Brian has made his young money. Being a key piece to a Super Bowl champion, however, provides him with a lifetime of revenue opportunities — from commercials, to endorsements, to speaking royalties — that he’s never going to see if he continues to worry about shining as an individual.”

“I’m looking at these tables but what is this? ‘2009: PEDs/Def ROY, Texans 8-8.‘ Next, ‘2010: PED Suspension/Clean, Texans Playoffs. 2011: Clean/No Pro Bowl; Texans Playoffs.”

“And it’s not just stats. He signed his $58 million dollar deal in 2012. Texans made the playoffs but then he breaks his fibula and misses 2013.”

“‘2014: Cushing sets franchise single-game tackles record. Texans miss playoffs for second year.”

“The trend is consistent and, as they say, once is happenstance. Twice is coincidence. Three times is enemy action. Now, Brian is off to an excellent 2015 while the team, as a whole, is not.”

“Come on, Drew! This is bogus! He’s just trying to cover his own ass!”

“Just hold on now, Brian. He has a point. Maybe, for reasons beyond your control, when you use performance enhancers, it has an inverse effect on the team. And he’s right about these numbers; you’ve gotten your big contract. Now we should be focused on building your legacy, like everyone before you.”

“Being like everybody is the same as being nobody. But fine, whatever, I’m in.”

“Don’t tell us, Brian, show us.”

The next morning at NRG Stadium, Cushing enters O’Brien’s office.

“Coach, I just wanted to let you know I’m bought in. And here is proof.” He sets a sportsbook ticket on the desk. It’s a $1,000 wager for the Houston Texans to win the AFC. He smiles and walks out of the office pumping his arm, “Go Texans!”.

“Thank goodness,” whispers the relieved coach. He picks up the phone. “Sal, it’s Bill. Double me down on us to take the division….yeah, well, I know I owe him a lot but I’ll bankroll this one with my house….What? He wants MY WIFE? [He looks at the ticket.] You know what? Go for it. I feel great about this year!”

He hangs up and begins to walk out the door to practice. One locker, Brian Cushing’s, is cracked open. O’Brien walks over to close the door when he spots a piece of paper on the floor next to a small vial. He picks the paper up and reads it in terror:

Straight Bet 17/2. TO WIN: Defensive Player of the Year. CUSHING, BRIAN. WAGER $250,000 TO PAY $2,375,000. BOOK 30OCT2015.

A man putting himself before the greater good. Improbable? Perhaps. But in an age of corruption, deceit, and an infinity of perks, let us hesitate to say impossible. Could any man — maybe even you or I — believe he is bigger than life when he hear tens of thousands of fans cheering his name? Cheers that might come without echo from…the Twilight Zone.