Chapter 18Sunset
Booker kept up a steady stream of travel throughout the nineties, diligently working his way through airports and dutifully signing autographs, posing for pictures and keeping late hours at restaurants, bars, and industry events. When he got home to Bardstown, he'd tend his garden, feed his fish, and spend time with little Freddie, his grandson.
He thought the sun rose and set on Freddie, whom he sometimes referred to as Little Book. Whenever he could he went to his football games, shouting his support for his only grandson, who just happened to be the quarterback. Before one big game, Booker took Freddie's offensive line aside and gave them a pep talk. As Booker knew, food could be a very motivating tool.
“You keep the defense off Freddie, and I'll buy you all the pizza you can eat! Soda too.”
The offensive linemen jumped up and down, hooting their excitement. They then proceeded to go out and allow Freddie to get sacked a record eight times.
“You know something?” Booker said to a shell shocked and very sore Freddie after the game. “Their mommas can make them dinner tonight.”
When football season was over, Booker turned his attention to basketball—religion in Kentucky. In addition to attending just about every one of Freddie's games, he erected a basketball hoop inside a shed in his backyard, complete with a free-throw line that he personally painted so Freddie could practice all he wanted.
“You got to learn how to dribble with your left hand and your right ...
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