"Robert Grossbach - A Feel For the Game" - читать интересную книгу автора (Grossbach Robert)

it always was) if she’d ever been reconstructed.

“Win some, lose some,” he noted stupidly.

“You know him?” she asked, tilting her chin in the direction of Rabinall, who
was collecting his boxed Duke from the machine.

“Not really,” said Curran. “He once tried to buy a Whitey Lockman from me,
but that’s about it.” He paused. “You?”

“Sold him a Monte Irvin last year at Sao Paulo. Were you at that one?”

“I only go to eight a year. I missed Sao Paulo.”

“He made quite a splash there. Took home a Willie Mays, if I recall
correctly.”

“Willie Mays?” Something began to jell in Curran’s mind, a complex chain of
neurons lost some inter-synaptic resistance. Whitey Lockman, Monte Irvin, Willie
Mays . . . . He rubbed his eyes, and was not all that amazed to find Rabinall standing
next to him.

“You still want The Duke,” said the fleshy man, his tone flat and certain.

He held the precious container in his pudgy hands.

“Yes,” said Curran shakily.

“And you know what I’m after.”

Curran inhaled. “You’re collecting . . . Giants. New York Giants of the
nineteen-fifties.”

Rabinall lifted an eyebrow. Curran had misjudged him. Misjudged him entirely.
There was passion here, and quite beyond the financial.

“Trade,” said Rabinall.
 “You haven’t found another Lockman,” ventured Curran, and he knew
immediately he was correct. “So what is it, Whitey for the Duke?”

“Don’t be absurd,” said Rabinall. “The two weren’t remotely comparable
players. Check the stats. Check the market.” He paused, pursed his lips. “I know
you have a Sal Maglie.”

So that was it! Matter of fact, Curran had several Maglie’s, because Maglie,
over his career, had been both a Giant and a Dodger. Curran considered, inhaled (he
hoped) inaudibly. He took one more shot. “I give you Maglie and Lockman, you
give me the Duke — and a player to be named later. Market worth 10K.”

“No player,” said Rabinall. “Straight-up trade.”