One Last Kickoff
Mark Reasoner
Author Bio
Mark Reasoner is a Hoosier by birth, a teacher by profession, and a storyteller by nature. Born and raised in Indianapolis, Indiana, and a graduate of Indiana University, he was still living there when those moving vans headed west on Interstate 70 bringing the Colts to Indianapolis. He has been a committed Colts fan since then.
Now living in Neptune Beach Florida, he is also a committed Jacksonville Jaguar fan, except when they play the Colts.
His previous writings have appeared in Folio Weekly, the DeKalb Literary Arts Journal and various corporate publications. Two of his short stories appeared in the collection, Snowbird Christmas Volume Two.
Mark has completed two more novels and is working on others. He is currently employed as a software trainer, where part of his job is developing and writing full narrations for computer-based training sessions, then recording the results.
Married to Karen Stewart (aka The Fix-it Sister) for over thirty years, Mark spends much of his non-writing time trying to stay out of the way when she gets loose with her power tools. He enjoys cycling and participates each year in the annual North Florida MS 150 Bike Ride.
Description
For the 30th straight year, professional football is the most popular sport in the U.S., according to a 2014 Harris Poll. Author Mark Reasoner appeals to this large audience, as well as anyone who has ever faced a significant life change, in his new novel, “One Last Kickoff” (published by Abbott Press).
Set primarily in Indianapolis, “One Last Kickoff” follows the fictional happenings in the life of professional football place-kicker Matt Ridgeway of the Indianapolis Colts. Matt has been the kicker for the Colts for 20 years and is nearing the end of his career – he just doesn’t know it yet.
When the Colts pick up a star college place-kicker in the second round of the National Football League draft, the young upstart is ready to displace Matt, but Matt doesn’t have a plan for his future. Despite a wife waiting in the wings ready to take over his life and a job offer from his father-in-law, Matt doesn’t know what to do; for Matt, football is life – it’s all he’s ever known.
Reasoner spends time relating some history of football and giving details of Matt’s past, which gives the reader an appreciation of where Matt’s been before getting into his current struggles. This same appreciation of where he’s been ends up helping Matt cope with where he might be going.
But that’s another great challenge facing Matt as he has to also learn the last and hardest lesson for any athlete or person in the public arena. There always comes the time when they must leave the stage. While many would try to teach that lesson, we all have to learn it for ourselves.
“What happens when you’ve done only one thing in life and can’t do it anymore?” Reasoner asks. “Though set in professional football, this book is really about coming to the end of a career and a mid-life change. All of us face change and the end of something. We all face figuring out what comes next.”
One Last Kickoff won first place for General Fiction – Non-Published at the 2011 Royal Palm Literary Awards, given by the Florida Writers Association, under a previous title, Mile Marker Zero.
Book excerpt
Indianapolis – May
NFL Draft Weekend
If I’d paid more attention, I might have seen it coming. But I didn’t and that got me kicked in the face on the second day of the NFL draft.
The phone was ringing as Claire and I came in the door. I picked it up to string of rapid-fire questions.
“So what does it mean? Are you done? Will you demand a trade? Do you think he can beat you out? Can you re-negotiate? Did you see it coming? What have you got for me, Matt? I’m on deadline.”
He hadn’t bothered to introduce himself, but I recognized Ken Munch of the Indianapolis Star. When Ken spoke, he left his interviewee gasping for breath and looking for a place to jump in. He wrote the same way.
“Hold it, Ken,” I said, when he took a breath, “What in the world are you talking about?”
“Oh, come on, man,” he answered. “I’m talking about Dinsmore from Purdue.”
“Who?”
“Clay Dinsmore. Your team’s second-round draft choice. Weren’t you watching?”
“Not really,” I said. “I saw the first round. We chose that big guy from Arizona.”
“Why weren’t you watching tonight?”
“It’s Friday,” I replied, “We had dinner with the folks, then went to a play up in Broad Ripple.”
I missed Ken’s reply. Claire grabbed my shoulder, turned me to face her, and made a slashing motion across her throat. She’d listened to my cell messages and her expression said she’d heard something important.
“I have to call you back, Kenny,” I said and clicked off.
“Call Charlie,” she said, referring to my agent. “But first we need to see this.”
Claire turned on the TV to ESPN. They covered the NFL draft live, but the process was over for the day when we tuned in. I’d watched most of the first round broadcast last night.
Indianapolis selected linemen first most years, unless a franchise player was available. And whatever happened, the screaming heads would analyze, rehash, and pick apart for another three weeks. It only took a few minutes before one of the analysts came around my team—the Colts.
“A bit of a shocker,” he said. “The Colts draft a place-kicker in the second round, when they still have a great one. What do you make of it, Jerry?” The talkers continued, but I stopped paying attention.
Oh my God! This is what Munch meant.
I’m sure my face showed complete shock, but I saw a very different look from Claire. Anger, I thought.
“What’s going on?” She asked. “What are they doing to us?” She looked directly at me, her brown eyes blazing. I didn’t know if she was asking this rhetorically or expecting an answer I didn’t have.
“Umm, I… Uh,” The words wouldn’t come. Good God! My team just drafted someone to replace me, and I hadn’t seen a single clue. What did I miss?
When last season ended with our playoff loss, the coaches, team officials, and even the owner wished me well for the off-season and said they looked forward to seeing me at training camp.
Even after cleaning out my locker for the year I felt it was just temporary. I’d be back. I always was.
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