[20/03/2000, Baltimore]
By the 20th of April, Xavier and the tigers had finished the layoff, which consisted of a quarter of the back room staff. The coaching staff, who had been ready to walk, stayed put after he managed to lock down Belichick. He did not hesitate to lock down the man with a 4-year, $ 6-million contract, keeping him through the 2004 season.
This would give both of them a chance to see if this partnership is worth it. He managed to stop him from leaving, as his offer was more generous than what New England had offered him. Yeah, Xavier had found out that while he was dealing with his transition, the vultures had circled, trying to pick at the useless bits of his organisation.
They had clashed over the GM's decision-making, but Xavier managed to reach a middle ground where the couch would have a voice. Having a coach with that much power over a billion-dollar organisation wasn't smart. Like the previous situation, where half the core coaching staff had been ready to walk with him, practically ripping the coaching staff.
Matching the New England Performance bonuses tied to playoff appearances and Super Bowl wins, and giving up his right of first refusal on contract extension, sealed the deal. The plan for the new stadium, tentatively named Tiger Dome, helped move the man after seeing just how much would be invested in the franchise.
Xavier wasn't worried about that at the moment as he could be seen sitting in a cafe, sipping on a cup of coffee as he waited. He was dressed more casually in khaki pants, a light blue shirt covered by a navy sweater. A silver timepiece hung on his left wrist as he read the morning paper.
"Ahem, Mr James, sorry I'm late," A raspy voice spoke out, casting a shadow over him, causing him to look up.
Before him stood a tall, bald, dark-skinned man who exuded a self-assured charisma; he seemed larger than life, and to his fans, he was a real-life superhero on the gridiron. "Not at all, I just arrived early," Xavier excused, standing up to shake his hand, quickly realising how large and firm the man's hands were.
"Congratulations on your Hall of Fame induction. It is well deserved, Mr Newsome." He quickly said, not letting the silence build as he motioned for the man to take the seat across from him. "My father actually took me to the AFC Divisional Playoff game in 1987, against our team when you crushed our dreams."
"Hahah, that game was something special, sorry it had to be against your team." He apologetically responded, but from the huge smile on his face, Xavier could tell he wasn't at all bothered. "It was just one of those games no team could have stopped us, not even the 49ers."
"That's true, but six-year-old me still had his hopes crushed," Xavier replied with a sigh. "Do you want a cup of tea or coffee? Their brew is decent."
Ozzie chuckled, loosening his coat as he sat down. "Coffee, black," he said, resting his hands on the table. "I try to stay off the cream. Can't be looking like one of those retired linemen." The waitress appeared as if on cue, taking his order with a polite smile before vanishing toward the counter.
"I appreciate you meeting me," Xavier said once she left. "Kinda feel like everyone in the business wants to dissociate with me as much as possible."
"Well, can you blame them? You practically skipped every step to become the first black owner." Ozzie said with a composed smile as he accepted the cup of coffee from the waitress. "The old guard is dissatisfied with this, while for us it's more of mixed feelings."
"How so?" Xav asked with interest.
"How would you feel if someone who hadn't struggled with you in the industry suddenly achieved something you all have been working towards?" He asked before taking a sip, causing the young man across from him to lean forward with interest, looking completely unbothered. "To most of us, we were glad one of us has won, but at the same time you're not the..."
"Not the right one?" Xav finished his sentence, looking into the man's brown eyes. "Forgive me for not knowing there was a job requirement when making history and breaking racial barriers, wonder what qualifications Sir King had to meet. Do you guys realise how dumb that sounds?"
Ozzie chuckled softly, stirring his coffee. "You've got fire, I'll give you that. I had the same chip on my shoulder. But listen, kid—this league doesn't care about your pride. It chews up idealists and turns them into cynics. Don't let that happen to you."
Xavier struggled to hold back a chuckle. "I appreciate the advice, Mr Newsome, but the realities are that if it weren't for my father's connection, I wouldn't have been able to buy the franchise." He paused for a moment, his demeanour changing to a much more serious one. "Plus, if I hadn't bought a franchise now, then there would likely be no black owner for the next 20+ years."
"How do you figure that?" Ozzie asked much more seriously than before as he skeptically eyed the young man in front of him. "At some point in time, there would have been someone else; none of us is that special one; it's one of the things God helps us realise sooner or later."
"I agree, I got a taste of that feeling in the past weeks with the tigers, with people fleeing the ship like rats." He agreed easily. "Let me ask you, what's the most important factor that makes this league run?"
Ozzie leaned back in his chair, eyes narrowing with thought. "Talent," he said after a beat. "You can have money, ownership, marketing—but if you don't have players who can execute under pressure, you've got nothing. The league's built on the men on that field."
Xavier shook his head with a disappointed sigh. "In a perfect world, yes, but this is America, and the only thing that holds power is Benjamin Franklin." He said with an exhausted sigh. "My father had just as much talent for trading like the best of them, if not more, but still he had to struggle for years before he got his chance."
"I, on the other hand, was able to join him at work and learn at age 10, for the simple fact that my father had enough money." He admitted receiving a nod from the man across from him. "The league is and always will be a business first; that's the cruel reality of any professional organisation."
"Hmm, what you say might be true, but how does that relate to no other black man being able to become an owner later?" He asked, clearly still not convinced.
"To answer your question, let me ask you, currently, what is the most-watched sport in America?" Xav asked, but didn't wait for an answer. "The National Basketball League, because of two simple reasons they found a man good enough to carry the league's image. And they have internationalised, spreading the American basketball league as the number one in the sport, bringing in more money."
"Now, do you think that Commissioner Paul Trueman will let this situation linger for long? No, he will be looking to make the league more must-see TV, and that starts by making it profitable to both owners and companies sponsoring the league." He paused, taking a sip of his coffee that had notably cooled as he gave Ozzie time to digest. "So with the league set to be profitable as entertainment becomes more readily available, do you really think those old white men would let any of us get a seat at the table late?"
Ozzie took a slow sip, eyes locked on Xavier over the rim of the cup. The young man's words weren't reckless; they were sharp and precise, from a businessman's perspective, looking to get a return on his investment, not from someone trying to break through in the league.
"You really believe that," Ozzie said finally. It wasn't a question — more a measured observation. "That the door closes the moment the money gets good."
"Have you ever seen anyone sell their business when money is rolling in?" Xavier said evenly, setting his cup down. "We have gotten sidetracked, though. Shall we discuss why I asked to meet you?"
Xavier said, eyeing the glowing words above the man's head. He had seen quite a few such glowing words since his initial awakening of said ability. Most, however, never came close to an A grade, let alone an S grade. So, upon seeing Ozzie Newsome's talent, he was even more sure to sign him as his GM.
[Front-Office Vision: S+]Main Talent: Architect of Continuity
[Receiving IQ: A++]Main Talent: Route Prophet
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To Be Continued...