Beverly claps. “Excellent! We’re birds of a feather.”
Madison slips in and sets a coffee mug on the table. Both Beverly and Griffin look up and smile in acknowledgment.
“So give me a sense of what you’re trying to do.” Beverly lifts the steaming mug and blows on it.
Griffin pulls in a breath and launches into a description of his vision. Hosting celebrity events to raise money for programs like South Shore so they don’t have to choose between a safe field or a senior reception. Helping programs buy new uniforms, send players to summer camps for extra training. Establishing a scholarship program for players who won’t qualify to play college ball but will need an education for their future. Eventually establishing his own summer camp program for recreational players as well as professional hopefuls.
“That’s the heart of what I want to do here, but I know I’m a rookie at this, and I want to get the opinions of people like you who have been doing this for a while.”
Beverly raises a brow. “You’re already way ahead of most. Your vision is clear—and more importantly, attainable. You’re thinking with logistics and business in mind.”
Griffin nods. “Being connected in this celebrity world is agreat starting point. A lot of those folks are happy to make an appearance to help the kids, and if I make it easy on them to donate, even better.”
“Player-led camps are a hit. Some families bar no expense to send their children to a highly rated camp, and you could parlay those profits into scholarships and your foundation. Even with you as the head of the camp, designing the programs and teaching, it would be popular.”
“What’s the best place to start?”
“You need to get a clear and concise mission statement put together. Some basic branding, a website, email contact, etcetera. Then I would start by throwing a fundraiser party of some kind and inviting all of your famous friends. That’s a great way to start getting the word out and bringing in the first donations. Oh, and you’ll need to officially apply for tax status—in general, you want to hire a finance person to manage that side from the start.”
Griffin nods as he takes notes. “All very manageable. I think I have most of a mission statement already.”
“Excellent! And yes, of course it can be tweaked over time. You just want to commit to the purpose of the foundation.”
“I’ll invite a lot of players to the first fundraiser, so it won’t be anything too fancy.”
Beverly grins. “Some of the guys love a glamorous event! You’ve got quite the mix over there in the locker room.”
Griffin laughs. “You’re right about that. I guess you’ve worked with a lot of them on Wardens events.”
She nods. “Overall the players are great sports.”
Griffin asks Beverly a round of questions focused on details, and she answers with ease and in depth. She offers himher personal phone number for questions, noting his commitment and focus. “You’re really putting your all into it.”
Griffin gestures to his knee. “This might end up being it for me.” Despite having made peace with the reality that his knee injury will prevent him from getting back in the game, nothing has yet been officially arranged with the team, so he has to remain tight-lipped.
Beverly shrugs. “We’re all cheering for you either way. And this”—she points to his notes—“is an incredible and worthy endeavor.”
“I couldn’t agree more.”
By the time Griffin gets home, he decides he’s going to rent out a local brewery to soft launch the foundation, maybe hire a local band if he can find one on short notice. Of course his mind goes to Aria.
What if he invited her? Griffin will have to think about it. He wants to be in good shape the next time he gets close to her—nothing like that ghost of a person he was when she surprised him on his doorstep—and the moment needs to be right.
His first event, and when he’s still figuring the foundation out, might be too soon. Griffin wants nothing but the absolute best for her—himat his best too.
Then again, Aria is going on a tour in the new year, so Griffin can’t put off the launchtoolong.
A call from Elliott interrupts his thoughts as he pulls into his condo building’s parking garage.
“Hey, hey,” Elliott says. “Free tonight?”
“Eh, maybe,” Griffin says. “I’m still trying to take it easyon the knee, and I was out today meeting with Beverly from philanthropy.”
“Yeah? You transferring departments?” Elliott laughs.
“Well, maybe, sort of! I guess I caught the nonprofit work bug after the South Shore thing.”
“For real? Man, that’s awesome.” The genuine enthusiasm pours through Elliott’s words. “To be honest, you sound better. Way better.”
