“Actually, yes, I do,” he said. “Geo texted and said the crowds are out of control down there and he was wondering whether he should come back later and pick us up.”
“It can’t be any worse than any other game,” I protested. I’d seen some rowdy fans do some wild things in my life, but I’d never seen the Bears fans get out of control — at least not in a way that the security teams couldn’t quickly control. “Turn on the news; I’m sure if there’s something really bad going on, they’ll say something about it.”
Dax grabbed the remote used to the control the various amenities in the skybox and flipped on the widescreen television. A reporter for WLS stood just outside of the stadium giving an account of the situation as fans streamed by shouting obscenities at one another. Behind the reporter, a fight broke out and two police officers quickly moved in to break it up as the crowd cheered the combatants. I watched in horror as a group of young men wearing Bears colors clashed with a group in Storm gear and the reporter was shoved to the ground as the men began punching one another, but the cameraperson managed to stay upright and continue recording.
“Dax, we have to stop this,” I said as the fight grew bigger and spilled out into the parking lot.
“Wouldn’t that be your mother’s job?” he asked dryly.
“Someone has to do something!” I shouted as a bystander was hit with a flying bottle and crumpled to the ground.
“I’m not sure what it is you expect me to do,” he said as the camera swung around to catch a group of obviously drunk men rocking a security vehicle as it tried to moved out of the crowd.
“Stop them!”
“Payton, I’m not sure that’s possible at this point,” he said as we both stood staring at the screen, watching the violence unfold.
We weren’t able to leave the stadium until the Chicago Police Department got the crowd under control several hours later. The damage had been widespread as fans of the Bears and the Storm
clashed and then took their beefs out into the city as they looked for ways to show their opponents who was boss. A handful of people had been transported to emergency rooms across the city to be bandaged and stitched up, and several cars had been burned after fans had found beatings unsatisfying, but the rioting had been contained by the police and security.
Geo told us he’d driven away from the fray when he saw the fans come streaming out of the stadium and had parked a few miles down Lake Shore Drive and waited for the pandemonium to subside. I’d wanted to go down to the training room and check on Gus, but Dax had said security guards sealed off all access to the team locker rooms and wouldn’t open them up until the parking lot had been cleared.
At home, I turned on the news and wasn’t surprised to see my mother standing in the Bears’ stadium office giving the press a statement. She was wearing a black skirt and a gold blouse and her hair and makeup were, as usual, impeccable, but when I looked closer, I could see dark circles under her eyes and lines around her mouth that hadn’t been as pronounced the last time I’d seen her. She was stressed. I sat down on the edge of the sofa, turned up the sound, and watched my mother do what she did best — spin the story.
“Today we witnessed a tragic clash between fans of the beloved Chicago Bears and the new NFL franchise. This incident is yet another in a long list of attempts by wealthy outsiders to undermine the deep abiding loyalty that Chicago fans have for the Bears. I have spoken with Commissioner Goodell and voiced my opinion, and the opinion of many other long-time Chicago residents, that the Storm should be sanctioned for its fans’ behavior. He told me he is considering action against the team, but will need some time to read the reports from the CPD and the security team at Soldier Field. I would like to appeal to the better nature of the Bears’ fans, and urge them not to engage in any activity that is unbefitting of the Bears. I would also like to tell the outsiders who have brought this thuggish violence into the heart of our beautiful city that we will not stand for this kind of behavior or violence. I would also like to call on Mr. Connor, the owner of the Storm, to step up and take responsibility for the actions of Storm fans by absorbing the cost of the damage done to the stadium during the game. When you are a guest in someone else’s home, you try to leave it exactly as you found it, and I’m sure Mr. Connor’s sense of honor will enable him to do the right thing.”
I shut off the television and turned to find Dax staring at the blank screen. He didn’t say a word, and when I stood up, he turned and walked into his office, slamming the door behind him. I sunk back down on the couch and held my head in my hands as I tried to understand what just happened.
Bit by bit, my own mother was destroying my chance at happiness.
Chapter Forty-One
Dax
“That vindictive bitch is going to ruin everything!” Finn shouted as I motioned for him to tone it down. I’d agreed to meet with him at a diner near the stadium, but I hadn’t expected this outpouring of rage.
“Chill out, man,” I said as the waitress shot us a look and held up the coffee pot. I shook my head and turned my attention back to Finn. “Look, I don’t give a shit what that woman says; the whole thing was about the fans, not about the teams or anything I’ve — we’ve done. I’m not apologizing and I’m not paying for damages; that’s why you buy insurance.”
“It’s not the money, Dax,” Finn said shooting me the old side eye. “It’s the principle of the thing! She’s damaging the brand!”
“Oh bullshit,” I scoffed. “You can’t damage a football brand with a brawl. Besides, this whole thing isn’t even about football.”
“Then what the hell is it about?” he demanded.
“Ownership of her daughter,” I said. “She’s mad because Payton chose me over her and now she’s going to make me pay for it. It’s as simple as that.”
“Bullshit. That bitch has ice water running through her veins,” Finn said as he picked up a knife and began tapping the table with it in a steady rhythm.
“Cut it out,” I said, irritated by the noise. “Just because she’s cold doesn’t mean she won’t try and exact revenge. Her own daughter has publicly rejected her and now she’s holding the bag for the entire Bears’ organization. I’m sure she’s sweating knowing that the only heir to the Halas legacy is on the side of the new guy.”
“You could be right,” he agreed, dropping the knife and signaling the waitress for coffee. “What’s your lady love going to do about it?”
“Dunno, she’s not really talking to me right now,” I said as I watched the waitress pour a stream of hot coffee into each of our mugs. “I don’t want to fuck it up, though.”
“Watch out, Dax,” Finn warned. “You’re not supposed to fall for her. She’s a means to an end, man. Eyes on the prize.”
“Yeah, I know,” I said, staring out the window, thinking about how good it felt to wake up next to Payton’s warm body and how much I’d miss our evenings out if she decided to cut the contract and leave.