Goldengirl

‘Hansenburg? Yes, he’s on the books,’ said Dryden indifferently. ‘And what your golfers are raking in between them I wouldn’t like to guess.’

‘It keeps me in cigarettes, Dick.’ He wasn’t used to having his organization analysed by clients.

‘You must be one hell of a smoker.’ Armitage planted a sinewy forearm between them on the table and leaned over it confidentially. ‘Now tell me this. What happens when those guys hang up their clubs or whatever? They’ve been around a long time.’

‘Since Nicklaus was king,’ Dryden confirmed, beginning to see where this was heading. ‘Careful — this is a sensitive area. When a top-liner retires, there’s a draft. You feel it no matter how big your agency is. It just happens that I have three or four on my list who could pack it in anytime.’ He poked his finger at Armitage’s chest. ‘Not you. I’m counting on tennis to keep me solvent. If I could find another Dick Armitage, I’d throw my sleeping tablets away.’ He wasn’t sure why he was doing this. It was more from habit than necessity. He just wanted to bring Armitage to the point.

‘You’ve specialised in golf and auto racing. Would you want a bigger stake in other sports?’

‘If you mean tennis—’ Dryden began.

‘How about track?’

‘Track?’ Armitage might as well have mentioned medieval jousting. ‘Did you say track?’

‘You know, running — how do you say? — athletics?’

‘There’s no money in it, whatever you call it,’ Dryden flatly said. ‘It’s an amateur sport. Olympic Games. The honour of taking part and all that crap. Yes, there’s a small professional side, I grant you, but not enough to make it a merchandising proposition. It’s on a par with circuses.’

Armitage wasn’t so easily put down. ‘A gold medalist has been known to make a few bucks in endorsements,’ he persisted. ‘Remember Mark Spitz?’

‘He was a swimmer. All right, anyone who hits the headlines at the Olympics can generate some dollars if he turns professional immediately after, but that’s one jackpot in a whole career. Spitz won seven gold medals. That was great news in 1972, but now who wants to know? The first commercial contract an Olympic athlete signs effectively destroys him as a newsmaker. He’s a declining market. Just compare that with your game, where you have big-money tournaments all year round. Golf, Grand Prix, all the professional sports are repeatedly reinforcing the big names. It’s hard work, but it makes sense commercially. Now tell me, Dick, how many of the 1976 gold medalists in track do you remember?’

Armitage nodded. ‘But you’ll admit that the Olympics is a fantastic sales vehicle? The TV coverage alone.’

‘That’s it, is it?’ said Dryden. ‘You read the piece in Newsweek about the price the networks are charging advertisers for a spot in the telecasts from Moscow. It’s crazy, isn’t it? Two hundred grand a minute. I know sport moves the product, but with that sort of money involved, somebody could get his fingers burnt.’

‘You’re saying you wouldn’t care to get involved in the Olympics?’ The champion looked as if he was two sets down.

Dryden hesitated. From the way Armitage was pressing the subject of track athletics, he was to some degree committed. To persist with the argument that track was not a commercial proposition would lead to embarrassment if there was some promising pole vaulter scheduled to join them for dinner. It would be crazy to damage his standing with the biggest star in tennis. This required a change of emphasis.

‘I’ll put it this way, Dick. One year in every four you find a lot of men in my profession buzzing round the track meets offering the moon to anyone likely to make it to the Olympics. They say nothing is formalised till after an athlete has won a gold medal, but the speed at which those contracts are drawn up beats anything on the track. They’re ready for signature before the band is through “The Star-Spangled Banner.” Next day your gold medalist announces to the world that he owes his success to breakfast cereal, soft drinks and button-down shirts. Two weeks after, he’s a forgotten man. Okay, that’s exaggeration, but you follow me. Organizations like mine have tended to keep a little aloof from that. It seems slightly undignified to tag breathlessly around after quarter-milers. We keep it under review, naturally.’ He left it at that. To give more at this stage would be too obviously inconsistent. It was there for Armitage to pick up if he liked.

‘I guess so. Same again, Jack?’ Armitage beckoned the bartender. ‘Say, that Mercedes of yours is really something. Custom-built, is it?’