Kouris Invisible

1. Auflage 2026
ISBN: 979-8-31782765-6
Verlag: BookBaby
Format: EPUB
Kopierschutz: Adobe DRM (»Systemvoraussetzungen)

E-Book, Englisch, 400 Seiten

Reihe: Invisible

Garrett Woodruff had grown weary of the law practice and the hubris of attorneys whose pedigrees spanned multiple generations. Now, near the end of his second divorce, he questioned his professional viability. He knew his life's work was not meant for a starched collar, Italian loafer law firm. Garrett's overriding desire was to officiate major college football, but he still suffers with the pain of the loss of the one who got away. With the aid of Butch Macinski, an icon among Midwest Conference officials, Garrett realizes his dream. He joins Butch, 'Smash' Jones, Slade Arlington, and the other members of the prestigious crew known as the God Squad. As he reaches the height of his officiating career, Abby Richter, the love of his life, returns. She promises to divorce Dmitri, her Russian mobster husband, and return to Garrett. There is one condition. Abby has stolen millions of dollars from her husband's mob activities. She asks Garrett to shave points on a game so that she can wager on the contest. Her plan is to return the money before her husband knows it's missing and keep the the winnings from the caper. Garrett is faced with the moral crisis of compromising his principles, tarnishing his reputation, and risking imprisonment to have the woman he has always loved. To learn the resolution of Garrett's crisis, the reader follows the God Squad through the 1999 season, where the true story of what it's like to officiate big time football unfolds. Hints of doubt begin to appear in Garrett's mind. He doesn't know if he can go through with the scam. There is also the mysterious and seductive Phoebe McKinney, credit manager at a large Las Vegas hotel, who appears on the scene, and threatens to unravel the sinister plot.

John R. Kouris is an attorney and writer. He is a lifelong resident of Northwest, Indiana. His professional career spanned nearly six decades. He served as the Chief Operating Officer of the National Institute for Trial Advocacy for ten years and as the Executive Director of an international defense bar association, 'DRI-Lawyers Representing Business,' for twenty-one years. He also was a member of the founding Executive Committee of the National Foundation for Judicial Excellence, where he still serves as an emeritus Special Advisor. As his avocation John was a football official for thirty-nine years, the last twenty-five of which were spent at the Collegiate Division I level. He officiated numerous bowl games and post-season assignments including the 2006 National Championship. Invisible is his third book.

Autoren/Hrsg.

Kouris, John R.

Leseproben

CHAPTER 2

Monday, May 17, 1976

Lake County Superior Court, Room 5

Hammond, IN

Garrett entered the courtroom with his friend and divorce counsel, Elizabeth Marchand. He noticed Baylen Kingston, an associate at his law firm, sitting on a bench at the front of the courtroom. “What are you doing here, Bay?”

“I’m presenting an eviction order on behalf of 1stMerchant’s Financial Bank to remove some lowlife from their foreclosed property.”

“How humane,” Garrett replied.

“What about you, Woodruff? Why are you here?”

“I’m about to have a public resection of my rectum. Stick around. It should be entertaining.”

“The next item before the court, Your Honor,” the bailiff announced, “is case number 45-73472; In the Matter of the Marriage of Sandra M. Woodruff and Garrett D. Woodruff.”

“Mr. Huron, you represent the petitioner. Is your client ready to proceed?” asked The Honorable Fredrick Donner. “We are. I would like to call Ms. Woodruff to the stand.”

Sandra approached the witness stand. Judge Donner stopped her. “Raise your right hand. Under the penalties for perjury, do you solemnly swear the testimony you are about to give is the truth?”

“Yes, it is.”

“Mr. Huron, your witness.”

“You are Sandra W. Woodruff, is that correct?”

“Yes.”

“And you are married to the respondent, Garrett Woodruff.”

The gavel hammered the walnut. “Let the record reflect that the court will take judicial notice of the fact the petitioner and respondent are a married couple residing in Lake County, Indiana. Mr. Huron, let’s get to the significant part.”

“Yes, Your Honor. Ms. Woodruff, in your petition for dissolution of marriage, you state your husband is guilty of mental cruelty and infidelity. Please explain.”

“My husband is a pervert.”

“Objection!” Elizabeth Marchand was emphatic.

“Sustained.”

“Without characterizing Mr. Woodruff, please tell the court the facts that support your stated grounds for dissolution of marriage.”

“My husband wants sex all the time. And not just with me. I caught him on our new couch with our neighbor lady, and they were...”

Judge Donner hammered the gavel. “Counsel will approach the bench!” Garrett didn’t notice Kingston slip out the side entrance with his cell phone in hand.

“Just what do you think you’re doing, Mr. Huron? Indiana enacted no-fault divorce in 1973.”

“My client and I feel Mr. Woodruff’s actions are relevant to the distribution of the marital estate.”

“I’ve reviewed the schedule of property you and Ms. Marchand submitted. We are not talking about significant assets here. I will not let you waste the court’s time posturing about who gets the good dishes and who gets the lawnmower. If there is further testimony about the respondent’s sexual conduct, I will hold your client in contempt. Do you have anything to say, Ms. Marchand?”

“May I have a minute with my client, Your Honor? I may be able to expedite the resolution of this matter.”

“I would be delighted.”

Elizabeth returned to the counsel table. “I can nail her ass to the wall on cross examination if you want. Huron is trying to accede to her wishes instead of acting like her lawyer. He must be boning her.”

“Please get me out of here. I want her out of my life. I don’t care if she’s giving it up to Huron. Let them have what they want. Save me enough money so I can buy you lunch.”

When Garrett returned to the office after the proceedings, the receptionist handed him a pink message slip. Meade Buford, one of the firm’s founders, requested his presence at a private meeting. Baylen Kingston passed them in the corridor. He grinned plastic at Garrett. Renner Walls, the other founder of the firm, waited at the small conference room door and escorted Garrett to the end of the mahogany table. An officious court stenographer was tucked in the far corner near the windows. Renner Walls stood to Buford’s right, slightly back from the table. The stenographer indicated she was ready, and the summary proceedings began. Meade Buford recited several issues that had come to the firm’s attention; in particular, the state of Garrett’s personal affairs following two divorces, the recent allegations made in open court by his second wife that he was sexually hyperactive, his failure to acquire corporate clientele, and the disturbing behavior of his father in a house of worship. These matters demanded action. The firm could not put its impeccable reputation at risk by continuing to employ a lawyer with compromised professionalism. Garrett was not deceived by the transparent rhetoric of the illusory proceedings. The true reason for his dismissal was the elimination of an undesirable element from Buford and Wells. With Garrett gone, Meade and Renner would not have to explain to Biff, Chip, and the other loaves of white bread at the Foxmoor Country Club why an insouciant peasant remained on the firm’s letterhead. Garrett remained silent during the hearing. At its conclusion, he signed a pre-drafted resignation letter. He received a modest severance package and a limp handshake to confirm his departure. He was relieved. After four days of reflection and bourbon, he decided to open his own firm. The future would prove he could have made a more enlightened career move, but borrowing money to open his own law practice and hire a legal assistant afforded Garrett some control over his life -- control denied to those toiling in private law firms. It seemed the most logical way to earn a living and attain the flexibility he needed to become a football official in the Midwest Conference.

A person does not wake up one day and decide to become a Division I football official. It is a small, selective fraternity whose entrance requirements rival those of The Juilliard. There is an apprenticeship to endure. Aspiring officials work dozens of high school and small college games in front of paltry crowds and dead-end coaches whose dreams died decades ago. They endure the rigors of the semi-pro leagues where the strength and conditioning program is “last call,” and where players hold out unrealistic hope that NFL scouts are in the stands for their Sunday 9:00 a.m. contests.

The candidates work homecoming games at inner-city schools where the band outnumbers the fans. They officiate contests in powerful suburban conferences in upscale communities. Games like the 1979 Connertown contest that featured the hometown Huns hosting predominantly Black Gary Roosevelt. In the third quarter, racists set fire to a cross on a rise just beyond the south end zone. Hopeful officials traveled two hours one way to places like Carroll County, Indiana, where the active Monon Railroad tracks ran 90 feet beyond the back of the end zone, and where a dozen shit birds in flannel shirts and chewing tobacco-stained jeans, wielding Louisville Slugger baseball bats, made it necessary for sheriff’s deputies to escort the officials to the Knox County line.

Fledgling officials worked games in the rain, the mud, and the blood for $35 and then threw away a $50 pair of shoes because the elements turned them into black papier-mâché. Only after such trials by fire did they earn the privilege of prostrating themselves in supplication before the altar of the Great Zebra, seeking indulgence and favor to become part of the chosen few who endured 90,000 drunks questioning their mothers’ ancestry every Saturday between late August and early December. If they were good, and if they were lucky, particularly if they were lucky, they were summoned to the mothership for a career on the big stage under the bright lights.

Garrett had a plan to shorten the process. It was conceived earlier that day during the final hearing of his most recent divorce. He pretended to listen as his nearly ex-wife Sandra testified about his propensity for aberrant sexual activities, his questionable family background as evidenced by his father’s recent desecration of a Catholic church, and his dwindling status within his law firm and the legal community in general. He knew he could have called on Liz Marcand to introduce damaging evidence against the falsely innocent Sandra. Had he wanted to get messy, Liz could have introduced into evidence the cute little “thank you” card he found in Sandra’s dresser. It was signed by a grateful “Pete,” who expressed his appreciation for a lovely and fulfilling evening. But when it was time for Garrett to fire a few salvos at Sandra’s less-than-immaculate life, he took a pass. He just wanted out, out of his marriage to a significantly younger woman, out of his top hat and cutaway coat law firm. His mind often ambushed his spirit with visions of jungles and helicopters in Vietnam. He had suffered the trials of combat. He despaired for the friends he left behind. Garrett vowed after the savage battle at Fire Support Base Illingworth that if he returned home with most of his body parts and half of his sanity, he would never again do anything that made him unhappy. As much as he wanted to assume responsibility for both divorces, there were the stinging recollections of the one who got away. Much of the cause of his marital failings...