When Nevin Met Orson: A One-Act Play

(Author’s Note: I’m not going to lie to you; jet lag and an atypical midday nap on Monday have conspired to throw off my sleep schedule, as a consequence of which I am out of sorts, and it shows. Fortunately, lots of other folks have more than taken up the slack, for which I am most obliged. Since the Miami allegations, especially as they relate to Orson Charles, have been covered comprehensively, here as well as elsewhere, I have opted to take the story in a different direction, which may or may not work, but, frankly, once I am done with it, I can set it to be published in the morning, then I can go to bed, get a good night’s sleep, and, with any luck, awake refreshed shortly before you read this in the morning.)

Orson Swindle was a humorist out of Gainesville, and, because I had a real close relationship with SB Nation, Doug Gillett came to my house and he was with Orson Swindle. I showed [Swindle] my closet. The reason why I show all the kids my closet is because that’s where I had like 50 to 70 UM game-worn jerseys of all the best players in the last however long. That was our first visit.

Nevin Shapiro (except, no, not really)

[Exterior mansion, day; dissolve to interior, master bedroom, with sounds of ocean waves and "Miami Vice" theme audible in background. Nevin Shapiro enters, clad in white leather shoes without socks, white slacks, a pink T-shirt, and a Miami Hurricanes baseball jersey unbuttoned over it. He is followed by Orson Swindle and Doug Gillett, who are dressed like Orson Swindle and Doug Gillett, respectively.]

Shapiro: . . . And that’s how Michael Irvin introduced me to powerballing! You know that’s what killed John Belushi, right? Say, Charles, . . .

Swindle: Swindle. Or Spencer. Either one works, really.

Shapiro: You’re not the tight end out of Plant?

Swindle: Nope.

Shapiro: Ah, well, what the hell; you’re here, anyway. I’ll pay you 20 bucks if you go back in the closet!

[Swindle and Gillett look at one another.]

Gillett: Uh, listen, I don’t know where you got that idea . . .

Swindle: Um, yeah, Doug’s into a completely different EDSBS contributor . . .

Gillett and Swindle: Not that there’s anything wrong with that!

Shapiro: What? No, I mean literally! Come inside my closet!

[Shapiro opens the closet door, revealing a row of Miami football jerseys.]

Shapiro: See that one? That jersey was worn in the game Florida State lost to the ‘Canes on a fluke missed field goal---I forget which one---and that one was worn by a guy who went on to fail six drug tests in the NFL! Want to wear one of ‘em?

Swindle: Uh, no.

Shapiro: What’s the matter? Don’t you want to play for Miami?

Swindle: In fact, I don’t. I’m a Florida fan, and I used up my collegiate eligibility years ago.

Shapiro: Yeah, but you’re on the internet, right?

Swindle: Sure.

Shapiro: Well, that’s good enough for Randy Shannon to recruit you, so it’s good enough for me!

Gillett: Excuse me, but aren’t some of these jerseys from players who are still in school?

Shapiro: Oh, yeah, absolutely!

Gillett: Did you pay them for their jerseys? Because A.J. Green did that, and . . .

Shapiro: Whoa, whoa, whoa! What are you, a cop? No, I didn’t pay them for their jerseys! I invited ‘em to a party, let ‘em have all the booze and hookers they wanted, and stroked a check to Donna Shalala, and they gave me their jerseys! Paying for them? That would be reprehensible! Say, either of you want to invest in a company with no employees, inventory, or business model?

Swindle: No, thanks. I already sunk money in Jim Donnan’s Ponzi scheme.

Shapiro: Donnan? Why would you put up cash for his pyramid scheme?

Swindle: I figured I owed him for all the joy he brought me in Jacksonville in the mid- to late ‘90s.

Shapiro: How ‘bout you?

Gillett: Yeah, I’m done with getting involved with sketchy schemes involving boosters, money, and recruits.

Shapiro: "Done"? You mean you’ve been involved with that sort of thing before?

Gillett: Can you keep a secret?

Shapiro: Uh, . . . yeah, we’ll go with that, sure.

Gillett: I was the bag man who delivered the money that got Cam Newton to Auburn.

Shapiro: No, way! That was you?

Gillett: Yep. It was all Spencer’s idea.

Swindle: If Urban Meyer couldn’t win a national championship with Cam Newton, I wasn’t going to let anyone win a national championship with Cam Newton! Well, not one the NCAA will let them keep, anyway.

Shapiro: Ha! The NCAA! They’re a bunch of wusses! You don’t think they’re ever really going to drop the hammer on another program the way they did on SMU, do you?

Swindle: Uh, . . . yeah, we’ll go with that, sure.

Gillett: So, anyway, Spencer, Holly, and I put together the plan in a joint Florida/Georgia/Tennessee venture to get Auburn put on probation.

Shapiro: Where’d you get the money? Ponzi scheme? It was a Ponzi scheme, right? Those are the best! They’re so cool! I call ‘em "Fonzie schemes," ‘cause they’re so cool. Get it? Fonzie? Ponzi? ‘Cause they sound alike?

Gillett: Nah, we requested donations on a Crimson Tide message board. Took about 20 minutes.

Swindle: It’s a good thing they only came up with 180 grand. If they’d hit 200, I’d’ve been required to get one of those Bear Bryant back tattoos.

Shapiro: Aren’t you afraid Danny Sheridan’s going to rat you out?

Gillett: Nope. We planted one of our co-conspirators on Sheridan’s legal team, and he’s advised Sheridan to keep quiet.

Shapiro: How do you know you can trust the guy you’ve got working for Sheridan? Because some guys will turn on you and spill the beans, you know?

Swindle: Yeah, don’t you just hate guys like that?

Shapiro: I know, right!

Gillett: We’re not worried about our guy on Sheridan’s legal team.

Shapiro: Yeah? How come?

Gillett: He hates Auburn.

[Shapiro turns to close the closet door.]

Swindle: Hey, wait, before you do that . . .

[Swindle pulls a digital camera from his pocket and gestures toward the open closet.]

Swindle: Do you mind if I take a picture?

Shapiro: Be my guest.

Swindle: I can’t wait to see what LSUFreek does with this!

[Swindle aims the camera at the open closet and, while looking through the viewfinder, begins backing up to get a better shot. Behind him, unbeknownst to Swindle, is the Hurricanes’ 2001 national championship trophy. Swindle slowly continues backing, backing, backing . . . and, as his buttocks brush roughly up against the base of the trophy, we fade to black.]

Go ‘Dawgs!

X
Log In Sign Up

forgot?
Log In Sign Up

Forgot password?

We'll email you a reset link.

If you signed up using a 3rd party account like Facebook or Twitter, please login with it instead.

Forgot password?

Try another email?

Almost done,

Join Dawg Sports

You must be a member of Dawg Sports to participate.

We have our own Community Guidelines at Dawg Sports. You should read them.

Join Dawg Sports

You must be a member of Dawg Sports to participate.

We have our own Community Guidelines at Dawg Sports. You should read them.

Spinner

Authenticating

Great!

Choose an available username to complete sign up.

In order to provide our users with a better overall experience, we ask for more information from Facebook when using it to login so that we can learn more about our audience and provide you with the best possible experience. We do not store specific user data and the sharing of it is not required to login with Facebook.

tracking_pixel_9341_tracker