THE LOST SPRING: A Casablanca Parody (Starring Nick Saban)

NOTE: After the recent slap-stick postings, here is a foray into fiction/parody. And it comes on the heels of the news of Nick Saban's masterful recruiting tactic - using video-conferencing to meet with recruits once the NCAA banned him from going on Spring recruiting visits.

And yea, I've been watching a lot of old movies. Enjoy.

(PART II)

A Novella (to be adapted for the screen by BILLY WILDER)

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CAST:

Nick Saban (played by Paul Henreid)

Kevin Steele (played by Humphrey Bogart)

Terry Saban (played by Ingrid Bergman)

SEC Commissioner Mike Slive (played by Claude Rains)

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"THE LOST SPRING"
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ACT THREE

THE coach stood, perched against the wooden post in his office.

In came Steele, still in the dinner coat from the night before.

“Hello Steele. Get some sleep?”

“Don’t mind me, I’m fine. The Commissioner here yet?”

“I expect him shortly.”

“Well, I suspect I’ll sneak one in. Got a light?”

Before the words could even leave Steele’s mouth, the coach’s outreached left hand flashed the spark of a match, engulfing the tip of the cigarette in an instant.

“What’ll you suspect happens when he finds out?”

“I suspect he won’t like it.”

“And then what do you suspect will happen?”

“After that? Nothing.”

“Diabolical Nick, Diabolical.”

“Why thank you Steele.”

“Anytime.”

The coach paced to the window, his eyes focused ahead. “Why Steele, I believe we have company.”

In came the Commissioner, his look of displeasure poorly masked.

“Why here they are Commissioner,” said Terry, now in a spring hat and dress, attempting to make the strenuous situation as friendly as possible.

“Thank you Mrs. Saban,” said the Commissioner. “Hello Nick. Steele.”

“Commissioner,” said Steele, leaning against the desk in a half-sitting position and ashing his cigarette butt rather casually.

“How do you do Commissioner,” said the coach.

“Forgive my rudeness, but this is rather unprecedented,” said the Commissioner. “Why, may I ask, have I been summoned? I am, I’m afraid, rather busy.”

“Yes we know Commissioner. Aight, you’ve been quite busy pandering to that big-eared car salesman of yours. How goes things on that front Commissioner? I would have imagined I would have put him out of business by now.”

“Far from it,” said the Commissioner.

“Give it time Commissioner,” replied the coach. “Give it time.”

“Why Nick,” said Terry, going over to her husband’s side. “There’s no need for that sort of talk. This is a friendly meeting, isn’t it? Let’s keep it friendly.”

“It’s okay doll,” said the coach, his intense stare never once leaving the Commissioner’s unnerved eyes. “I don’t suspect it’ll stay friendly once the Commissioner finds out, aight, why I’ve brought him here.”

“And why is that Nick?” said the Commissioner.

“Commissioner, aight, I’ve brought you here to tell you something. Something important. Something I’m quite sure isn’t going to sit well in that meandering little belly of yours. Something quite dastardly, isn’t it Steele?”

“Dastardly indeed,” replied Steele, standing by the coach’s side, casting his own stare.

“If I’ve been brought here to be insulted then I regret to inform you I must go.”

“You’re not going anywhere Commissioner,” said the coach. “I know everything.”

“What do you mean?” said the Commissioner.

“He means what he says Commissioner,” said Steele.

“It’s okay Steele, I’ll handle this,” said the coach. “I know about you and that floppy-eared weasel. I know he came to your office seeking help Commissioner. I know you gave it to him."

"How much did he beg Commissioner?," the coach continued. "Or did he even have to? Did you give me right up, or did you hesitate for a second before you threw me under the bus?”

“Why,” said the Commissioner, his hands shaking ever so slightly as he sipped from his glass of sweet tea. “Whatever do you mean?”

“Don’t play dumb with me Commissioner,” said the coach. “Just tell me one thing. How much did it cost? How much did it cost for you to saturate every lazy desire that two-bit redneck came to you with?”

“Sir, if offense if your intent, you have certainly done that,” replied the Commissioner. “What is all of this in relation to?”

“You know exactly what I speak of.”

“I- if this is about the new spring recruiting rule, I assure you it is an NCAA policy. I had nothing to do with it.”

“If you expect me to believe that, I must appear quite dumber than I fancy myself.”

“It is a NCAA rule.”

“It’s an NCAA rule because you went to the NCAA with it Commissioner. We’ve got it all figured, don’t we Steele?”

“Like a two-piece puzzle,” said Steele, his penetrating glare focused on the Commissioner.

“Did you bring me here to accuse me?” said the Commissioner.

“No Commissioner,” said the coach. “I brought you here to tell you something.”

“Nick darling, why don’t we-” said Terry.

“I brought you here,” continued the coach. “Aight, to tell you that I’ve just spoke with William Ming. Face-to-face.”

“The four-star?” said the Commissioner.

“Indeed,” said the coach.

“That sir, is an NCAA violation,” said the Commissioner. “I’m afraid I’ll have to arrest you.”

“I’m afraid, aight, you won’t.”

“You’ve given me no choice,” replied the Commissioner. “I’ll have to bring you in.”

“You’ll do no such thing. I’ve broken no rule.”

“You just admitted as much to me,” said the Commissioner. “I have witnesses.”

“Witnesses to what?” said the coach.

“To you admitting to meeting with a recruit face-to-face during the Spring, when it is disallowed.”

“That I did.”

“Then sir,” a look of satisfaction growing on the Commissioner’s face as he readied his handcuffs. “I’m afraid that removes all doubt. Your hands, let’s have them.”

“I’ve broken no rule,” said the coach.

“Sir, if this is some game you play, I assure you it isn’t going to help,” said the Commissioner.

“Commissioner, I did this morning meet with William Ming. We sat, and we spoke about his classes, his grades, and his planned major. Then we talked about his opportunity to play early at the University of Alabama, should he decide to come here, which I’m quite certain he will.”

“We talked about all of that Commissioner,” continued the coach. “Over a face-to-face video conference.”

“A… a video conference?” replied the Commissioner, his face growing red. “Well that’s clearly a violation of the no face-to-face meeting rule.”

“Read it again Steele,” said the coach.

Steele took a long drag from a newly-lit cigarette and glanced down at a thick book he held in his left hand, the cover, peeled back to reveal a block of black type.

He looked down, blew a long stream of smoke from his mouth, and began to read. “Sure thing coach. ‘All electronically transmitted human voice exchange (including video conferencing and videophones) shall be considered telephone calls.’"

“Thank you Steele,” said the coach, his continuous glare on the Commissioner’s puzzled face. “Say Steele, what is that fine piece of reading you’ve got there?”

“Why I don’t know coach, but it says ‘Official NCAA Division I Rulebook’ right here on the front,” said Steele.

“You sure Steele?”

“Quite,” said Steele.

“Thank you again Steele,” said the coach. “And thank you Commissioner. For dropping by. Give my regards to that elephant-eared crony of yours.”

“Y- You haven’t heard the last of me!,” said the Commissioner. “Either of you! T- This, won’t stand I tell you. It won’t! I won’t allow it! You haven’t heard the last of me! You hear?”

“And just one more thing Commissioner,” said the coach. “Tell him I said ‘Happy Hunting.’ I do hear he’s quite the duck-hunter.”

With that, the Commissioner ripped open the dual-doors to the study and bounded down the hallway, his face as red as a corner-store apple.

Steele flashed an ear-to-ear grin, and shot his eyes over to the coach.

“Diabolical,” he said.

The coach smirked, looked at Terry, who sat with a curious grin, her face overcome with ecstatic bemusement. He then shot his eyes back to Steele.

“Indeed.”

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EPILOGUE

THE two men sat in the den, relaxed for the first time in days. Their legs flung about like children with not a care in the world. A bourbon drink sat within arm’s reach of both men.

“What do you fancy will happen next?” said Steele.

“Steele my friend, I suspect they’ll do what they always do. Try and copy us. But they won’t be able to, will they Steele? And why? Because they’re not us. And so, in a year or so, they’ll try and stop us.”

“Then what’ll we do?”

“We’ll do what we always do Steele,” said the coach. “We’ll figure something out.”

“I suspect it’ll be something diabolical?”

“That it will. That it will.”

The coach then grew a mild look of panic on his face. He rose, and walked outside to the stairway, where Steele stood peering out into the yard. “Say, Steele, what time is it?”

“Half past two.”

“Be ready at three.”

“For what?”

“For Morgan Moses.”

“The five-star?”

“The five –star.”

“You see Steele, five-stars are my style,” said the coach. “Some men, aight, all it takes for them to be happy is a phone call from a three-star, or a letter from the parent of some cornerback with a 4.8 40. But not me.”

“No Steele, I’m a five-star man. Through and through. Aight, always have been. Now you pick up that phone Steele, and you get that five-star on the line, and you set up another face-to-face. But before you do, I may just have one of those smokes of yours.”

“But Nick, you don’t even smoke.”

“Don’t I?” said the coach, placing a cigarette on his lips, and searching his pockets.

“Say Steele,” he continued. “You got a light?”

“Indeed,” said Steele, lighting a match and extending. “You surprise me Coach. I’ve never seen you smoke a day in your life.”

“Steele my friend,” said the coach, taking a long, hard pull from the cigarette.

“This is no day for playing by the rules.”

THE END.

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THE ENSEMBLE CAST: pictured (left to right) “Steele” (Humprey Bogart), “Commissioner Slive” (Claude Rains), “Terry” (Ingrid Bergman), “The Coach/Nick” (Paul Henried)