The Payback Game by Nathan Gottlieb Page B

Or should I?”
    “I’ll do the honors.” Cassidy turned to her. “Hannah, some of the smartest people I’ve ever met didn’t even finish high school. I barely got through myself. On the flip side, some of the dumbest people I’ve known not only had college degrees, but in a few cases, a masters and even a PhD. I’ve also met tunnel rats who were brighter than some of my fellow reporters. So, young lady, take that chip off your shoulder.”
    She frowned and changed the subject. “What time do we meet here tomorrow?”
    “How about noon?” Boff said.
    Hannah nodded, stood up, kissed Cassidy goodbye, and left, obviously miffed that her Uncle Mike had given her a dressing down in front of Boff.

Chapter 9
     
    Before heading up to the bar the next day to check out Doyle’s stories, Boff drove to the gym with a message for Steven that he hoped would tempt him to quit boxing.
    When he arrived, his son and McAlary had just gloved up and climbed into the ring. To Boff, they looked like an odd match for a sparring session. Steven was three inches taller and two weight classes above where the trainer had fought during his career.
    “You’re kind of small to be sparring with me,” Steven was saying. “Aren’t you afraid I might hurt you?”
    McAlary smiled. “Son, I’m going to put you on your ass in less than thirty seconds. Ready?”
    Steven nodded and they began sparring. Sure enough, before a half minute passed, the trainer had blistered Steven with a right hook to the head that sent him down. Looking angry that he had tasted canvas so quickly, Steven popped right back up and threw a bunch of awkward punches, two of which glanced off McAlary’s head but had no effect on him at all.
    “Ready to hit the ground again?” the trainer asked.
    “I’m not going down anymore!”
    But a minute later, McAlary nailed him again with a right hook. Down he went. This time, he was a bit slower getting up.
    “Steven, I can keep knocking you down all day. Know why?”
    “Uh…because you were a world champion?”
    “No. Because you keep your left hand too low. That makes it easy for me—or any experienced fighter—to fire a clean shot over that hand. You’ve got to keep your left high enough to protect your head. Understand?”
    Steven nodded. Sure enough, when he remembered to keep his left hand up higher, the trainer was not able to put him down for the remainder of the round.
    “Okay,” McAlary said, “we’ll stop here.” He laid a gloved hand on Steven’s shoulder. “Son, the best way to teach a young fighter is not with words but by punishing him for his mistakes. Like I just did with you. On the positive side, I hit you pretty hard, and you got right back up. So you’ve got a wee bit of heart.”
    After they left the ring, Steven walked over to his father.
    “Having fun?” Boff asked.
    “Yup.” Steven fired a playful punch into his father’s shoulder.
    “Your basketball coach called me,” Boff said. “One of his starting forwards had to quit the team because his father was upset with his grades. The coach said you’d probably start if you came back to the team.”
    Steven shook his head. “Not interested. I’m a boxer now.”
    “But you’ve always wanted to start.”
    “That was then, Dad. I’m a boxer now. Things are different.”
    Boff frowned. “We’ll see,” he said.
    As he started to leave the gym, Steven called out, “Tell Coach I said thanks for offering. I’ll get him tickets to my first fight.”
     
    When Boff walked into Bailey’s Pub carrying his laptop bag, he found Cassidy and Hannah sitting in a booth with a man who had salt and pepper hair parted straight down the middle.
    “Frank Boff, meet Dave Thamel,” Cassidy said as Boff slid into the booth next to the newcomer. “He’s one of the News ’ best columnists. He was a good friend of Nicky’s. I asked him to help us with the research.”
    “Mike and Hannah brought me up to speed about what you guys are working