Page 14 of Brick Wall
I think all the brothers were athletes, and I know one brother played for the Boston Clovers, the same team their father played on years ago. However, I don’t think any of the brothers played professionally for long, if at all, but I will need to do more research before our meeting.
* * *
The meeting went, well, awesome.
Less than twenty-four hours later, we replaced our previous sponsor with an even better one. I met with Ryan and Tristan Moore from Moore Fitness, and it was a very productive meeting. They signed on to be sponsors quickly.
They are also cool guys. They were younger than I expected and had a lot of innovative ideas for community outreach and support to help our future projects and growth.
The Moore brothers also have a family foundation, the Moore Good Foundation, with their main project being a nonprofit summer camp.
The Moore summer camp is for at-risk youth and is completely free for campers. The summer camp is eight weeks long, with different themes and campers each week. The first week is sports, and I’ll be on board for that week of camp to help coach or “inspire,” as Ryan put it, whatever that means.
It sounds like a no-brainer. I just need to coach football for the first week of their camp in exchange for their help with the gala. I can tell this is the beginning of a great partnership.
The brothers want me to meet them at their summer camp in Plymouth next Saturday. Ryan called it a “brainstorming sesh,” but his older brother mentioned it’s really a barbecue where we meet everyone and get organized for camp.
The only snag is my schedule. It’s hard to be everywhere, do everything, and still be a top athlete. I wish I could clone myself. Sometimes, the off-season doesn’t feel like too much off time. I’m still swamped.
Now, I’ll have even less time to help Scarlett with the gala with this new partnership on the table. I should hire someone to help her; thankfully, I know the perfect person.
“Hello?” My sister Olivia picks up on the first ring.
“Hey, baby sis. How’s everything going?”
“Fine, big brother,” she huffs.
“What are the chances that I can get you to come work at the foundation?” Before she says no, I add, “Just for a few weeks this summer to help Scarlett with the gala planning?”
I hear some noises in the background, and I picture her outside, walking somewhere to do something.
“Can I get back to you?”
“Of course.”
“I’ll let you know by Sunday.”
“Sure. See you, baby sis.”
“Later, big bro.”
We hang up, and I get back to work.
* * *
I’m on my way to meet the Moore brothers at their summer camp location in Plymouth. The camp doesn’t kick off until the following week, but there’s an “informational barbecue” or something today, plus the brothers are giving me a tour of the place.
I should have taken them up on their offer to drive together, because this camp location is more remote than I expected, deep in a forest I didn’t know existed. I had no idea the South Shore had so many damn trees.
The summer camp is located by a lake that was previously a Boy Scout camp, which makes sense because only an Eagle Scout could find this place. Luckily, I have my GPS, which sometimes works.
After several wrong turns and a few curse words, I spot a homemade sign with an arrow pointing to a narrow dirt path. I turn left and follow the signs down a small knoll that leads to a gravel parking lot.
Ryan Moore is standing in the center of the lot, waving withtwo hands the moment he spots my truck pulling in.
I take a deep breath before exiting, enjoying the last few minutes of silence.
“Sebastian Goodick!” Ryan Moore greets me using my full name, which is not a unique experience for me. He gives me a weird half hug, tapping me on the back, which is a little unexpected. “You made it.”
