I rake a hand through my hair. “That’s rough, man. Corporate bullshit. I can’t pretend I know anything about it. You need to vent about teachers having affairs with each other, I might be able to help. But this…” I shrug. “I’m sorry. So, what, you’re thinking about leaving your job?”
I’m not sure what this has to do with me, or me moving back to Columbus. I can’t imagine what he needs that I can help him with.
“Here’s where you come in,” he says, getting excited. He leans forward and props his hands on his knees. “I want to start a business, Ryder. Something that I’m passionate about. Something that means more to me than just managing people’s money.”
“Okay. Do you have a business plan? Investors? What do you want to do?”
He gets up and starts pacing the floors. “Yeah, I’m in the final stages now. I want to start a franchise of gyms for kids. But not just gyms. Sports academies. Where do kids go to learn, really learn, how to play sports?”
“School, local teams, park districts. Private camps and stuff.” I think of the aquatic center and how few classes they have for kids.
“Exactly,” he says, getting excited. “There’s no national brand in the space. No company that parents immediately think of when they are looking for a place to send their kids to learn everything. Ice skating, swimming, football, tennis…”
“I see the merit in the idea. I mean, I’d take my kids to a place like that if I could afford it. But if it hasn’t been done before, there’s got to be a reason why there’s no one dominating that space in the market.”
Austin’s pacing faster, talking almost more quickly than I can believe. “There are three problems facing a brand trying to break into this space.” He starts listing things off on his fingers, like real estate and capital and technical details that I’m sure fill out a business plan someplace on that laptop of his.
“My vision is to start small. Come up with a simple, scalable model. I want every kid who goes to T-ball when they’re four to grow up in our facilities. Sees his little buddy playing soccer and wants to try it. Little Cora sees her friends bowling, next week she tries bowling. Think instead of Chuck E. Cheese for kids parties, they come to The Gym.”
“That’s the name?” I ask. “The Gym?”
“The name is still a work in progress, but think about it, Ryder. It has potential, right?”
I nod, thinking through all the ways a business like that could fail. “Are you going to buy or build the facilities?”
“We’ll start with whatever we can get quickly. My plan is to bring in food and retail to support all the costs. Imagine a gym with a food court. No more needing to stop for dinner before class or a game. Mom and Dad can eat healthy adult food at any upscale dining place right inside the gym. All under one roof. We’ll have childcare facilities and an entire section of the gym dedicated to athletes who need accommodations. Adapted swings, ramps. We’ll bring in sponsors who want the good PR for donating gear and supporting the vision. We’ll offer packages and scholarships so all kids who want to play can afford to play.”
I applaud Austin’s initiative, but this sounds like a big dream with very little chance of making it in the real world. “Have you thought this through?” I ask. “You’re willing to give up your job to make this happen?”
He nods. “Ryder, I’ve secured a third of the start-up capital I need to break ground on a location in Columbus. If things go as planned, we’ll open the first gym in less than three years. That’s if we have to build. If I can rent a space to launch, we could be live in a matter of months.”
I shake my head. “I’m impressed, man. Excited. If this is your dream, then I know you’ll make it a reality.”
“That’s where you come in,” he says. “Ryder, I came here to ask you to run the business. I’m making so much money at my job right now even just staying in my position, I can afford to pay you and cover health insurance costs for the kids. For the next year or so while I keep working, you can run the business. Be my right hand. In three years, you can be director of coaching. Shit, you can name your title, and I’ll throw in a shareholder stake if you want.”
I can’t believe what I’m hearing. My best friend is offering me a chance to do something I love without the grind of teaching. To move home and work with him on his dream. I’m touched and humbled. Excited and scared.
“There’s only one thing…” I tell him. “Gracie.”
“That might not be the problem you think it is,” he says, a childlike grin lighting up his face. “So, you heard about what happened to Olson today? Levi Olson of the Cyclones?”
I shake my head. “The only drama I’m aware of that happened today is what Aiden, this fuckface in fourth grade, said to Luke at recess.”
Austin drops beside me on the couch and claps his hands excitedly. “Levi Olson ran into some kind of trouble and left the Cyclones. Word is he’s coming back to Star Falls to lie low for a while. He’s probably dying for some good press. We reach out to him, get him on board as a sponsor, and bam. The missing piece we need to fulfill the last of the funding. And maybe we could start in Star Falls, Ryder. Maybe you stay here and don’t move to Columbus. Scout a site for a first location right here in Olson’s own backyard.”
I’m not so sure about that. “Is a guy who was cut from an NFL team the guy you want supporting kids sports? What did he do?”
Austin waves away my fears with a hand. “It’s probably some stupid shit. But a little time away forgives everything. Talent like that won’t go to waste. The league knows that. They’re probably just trying to apply pressure or get ahead of some PR nightmare before it blows up. Worst-case scenario, if he has to prove that he’s ready to go back on the field, there’s no better redemption story than spending his time on this while he’s here. He doesn’t ever have to have contact with kids, Ryder. A couple social media posts, a few photo ops. A little exposure from a guy like that could go a long, long way.”
I’m not sure how I feel, but it’s impossible not to get swept up in Austin’s passion. “I like the idea of staying here in Star Falls and opening a small starter gym first,” I say, starting to get into it. “Lower real estate costs, lower taxes. And a wealth distribution not unlike the city. There’s upper class and lower, so it could be a good test case for expanding into bigger cities and more locations.”
“Exactly,” he says. “I was pretty stoked about having you back in Columbus, but I could live with you working out here. I can work remotely from my job once in a while anyway. I’ll come out here once a month and work with you, handle anything that needs to be done on-site. And that’ll give you time to figure things out with your lady. And if shit goes south, you can move back to Columbus. Or anywhere you want, man. We could go national with this. You want to move to LA to be near your sister—”
“Uh, thanks, but no. I’m allergic to celebrities.”
He laughs, and at that point, our fifteen minutes are more than up. Luke and Cora thunder down the stairs, demanding dinner and playtime, respectively. I’m honestly surprised we got so much time to ourselves.
I pick up Cora and make that call to Benito’s to see if we can get a table for dinner. While Austin gets on the floor to check out Luke’s newest train, he gives me a look. “You’ll think about it?”
