Brack drove me to the country club. Because of the media swarming my apartment and our detoured avoidance of said media, I was late for practice.

Jerry appeared ready to have an apoplectic fit. Then, when I introduced Brack as my boyfriend, I thought Jerry's eyes would bug out of his head. Being late was bad. A lover anywhere near training sessions was taboo. It broke every rule in Jerry's book.

"What the hell are you doing, Stradmore?" he hissed as soon as we were far ...