Kurt and Brian are the Windy City's coolest salesmen and best friends with a shared dream: NFL ownership. When they're not making huge deals, they find themselves disrupting NBA playoff games, flipping their company cars, throwing wild toga parties, and investing in defunct gold mines with their group of rowdy friends.
The two have everything they want in life: great jobs, great friends, and, for Kurt, an accomplished, beautiful businesswoman who views him with love and humour. The only thing that would make life better would be quitting their jobs and realizing their dream of buying a team--maybe even their beloved Chicago Bears.
Everything changes when good fortune smiles on Kurt and Brian. Following an offhand suggestion from Kurt's girlfriend, they play their lucky numbers and win the biggest lottery in history...half of it, anyway. The windfall allows them to quit their jobs. It also puts them one step closer to realizing their once-impossible dream of becoming owners in the greatest league in the world.
But they can only buy a professional football team if they can persuade the other lottery-ticket holder to combine his fortune with theirs. The catch? He happens to be their hated ex-boss.
Excerpt:
Kurt Weichert watched as the endless suburbs surrounding Indianapolis zipped by at seventy-five miles per hour, the rows of white houses growing thicker as he approached the city proper. Kurt knew somewhere inside each white box was a sports fan just like him, gearing up for game four of the Eastern Conference Finals against his hometown Bulls—a game he and his friends would soon be watching from right behind the basket!
“Bernie, you really did it this time,” said Kurt, looking over at his friend, who was piloting the Ford Explorer. “You big, loveable son of gun, this is going to be the best trip ever.”
“Hear, hear!” came the chorus from the backseat, where Kurt’s friends Brian, Victor, and Chuck had been arguing over the Pacers’ chances against Michael Jordan’s Bulls. The consensus? They had none.
“The Pacers and the Bulls—could any two teams call two more different places home?” asked Bernie, his bulk filling the seat of his SUV. “I mean, this is like the country mouse against the city mouse except the city mouse brought his gun.”
“Just think,” said Brian, Kurt’s coworker and best friend, “we were going to spend tonight at some crappy bar, getting drunk and watching the game with a hundred other ticketless schmucks. Now we’re going to be getting drunk with twenty thousand dear, dear friends.”
“Okay, I was with you until the ‘dear friends’ part,” said Bernie. “These people are going to want to kill us.”
“Well, close enough,” said Brian. “Not even the venom of thousands of dairy farmers can make this night less than freakin’ awesome.”
After leaving the urban landscape of Chicago, Kurt and his friends watched as the cows replaced the skyscrapers. Kurt, twenty-five, squirmed in his seat like a five-year-old at the pros-pect of sitting so close to the action.
The friends were happy to get away from Chicago and work, where Kurt and Brian’s tyrannical boss, Frank, was still poring over phone messages and invoices, trying desperately to leave his mark on Pointy Foods Services. Kurt’s friends, Chuck, Victor, and Bernie, were prime customers. On nights like this one, Frank sat at his desk with a fifth of Jack Daniels and a to-do list a mile long.
“I feel good, I feel lucky. This is going to be one hell of a weekend,” said Chuck. “Did you really bet on the Pacers like Brian said you did,” asked Kurt. “They’re going to be decimated by Jordan. He always plays great against them.”
Chuck looked at Kurt, a quizzical expression on his face. “A: I don’t know what the hell you’re talking about because I know the Bulls are going to win big.” At this Kurt shot a look at Brian, who had clearly lied to him. “And B: I’m talking about being lucky with the ladies. I’ve got my laser pointer with me.” At this announcement, Chuck held out his arm as though wielding Excalibur and announced in his most regal voice, “Guaranteed hookup commenced!”
A collective groan filled the car as Victor, Kurt, Bernie, and Brian rolled their eyes.
