ALL NOVEL CHAPTER 43: A Desperate Gamble
POV CALGARY ARENA
Bill Watt sat in his office at the Home Fixin’ Center, the once-proud arena that had been the crown jewel of his career. As he stared at the financial reports spread out before him like a sea of sorrow, his heart sank. The numbers told a dark story—football just wasn’t paying the bills anymore. The stadium, which used to be packed to the rafters for the Canadian Football League (CFL) games, was now a ghost town. With only 20% of the arena booked for events, they were on the brink of shutting down.
"There's no way," Bill muttered, running a hand through his thinning hair. "When I built this center, I never thought we’d end up like this."
His accountant, Shane, was equally troubled. "Well, nobody saw this coming, Bill. SFB has taken the world by storm, and everyone’s watching it now. CFL games were always a bit of a gamble, and now... well, they’re just not bringing in the revenue. Even during the playoffs, we’re barely breaking even."
Bill slammed his fist on the desk. "Fuck, fuck, fuck. What are we going to do?"
Before Shane could respond, the intercom buzzed, and Bill’s secretary's voice came through, tentative and cautious. "Mr. Watt, there’s a call on line three. I think you’re going to want to take this."
Bill sighed and picked up the phone. "This is Bill."
"Hey, Bill," came a voice on the other end, calm and confident. "You might not know me, but my name’s Atlas. I’m not sure if you know about me."
Bill frowned, the name unfamiliar to him, but before he could respond, Shane’s eyes widened, and he leaned in, yelling with delight, "Holy crap, you’re Atlas? I love your fighting!"
Atlas chuckled, a bit surprised. "Thanks. Well, here’s my question for you. Your arena isn’t doing too great right now, is it?"
Bill hesitated, not wanting to reveal just how dire the situation was. "We’ve had a bit of a downturn, but we’re managing."
"How would you feel about a crazy kind of deal?" Atlas asked, his tone suggesting that what he was about to propose wasn’t just another run-of-the-mill offer. "I’m interested in buying out the building from you."
Bill blinked, taken aback. "What?" he blurted out. This arena had been a billion-dollar investment when it first opened, with its sixty thousand seats and state-of-the-art facilities. "You want to buy the whole arena?"
"That’s right," Atlas replied, casually. "I think it could be a good fit for what I’m planning."
Bill, regaining his composure, tried to sound nonchalant. "Sure, that sounds... great. But it is a billion-dollar arena, you know."
Atlas laughed. "Yeah, I figured you’d say that. Tell you what—I’ll fly over and meet with you tomorrow. I think you’re going to like my offer. I think it’s a win-win for both of us."
After the call ended, Bill slumped back in his chair, his mind racing. Shane watched him, concern etched on his face. "What do you think, Bill?"
"I don’t know," Bill admitted. "This could be a lifeline, or it could be a disaster."
Shane pulled up more numbers on his tablet. "If Atlas can pack out the arena, we’d be fine. We’d be making money hand over fist, just like we planned when we first opened. But if we can’t fill those seats... Well, to cover our debts and stay afloat, we’d need at least four hundred million."
Bill’s eyes widened. "Four hundred million?"
Shane nodded grimly. "And we’d need a big chunk of it by the end of the year. Otherwise, the banks will come calling."
Bill leaned forward, clasping his hands together. *I hope this Atlas guy comes through with a good offer because I don’t want to sell the arena. But I also don’t want to end up broken and bankrupt. Maybe, just maybe, this could be the ticket out of this mess. But what if it’s not? What if this is just another false hope, another dead end that’ll push us closer to ruin?*
***
The next day felt like an eternity as Bill waited for Atlas to arrive. He paced around in his office, going over the numbers again and again, wondering what kind of offer could possibly save the Home Fixin’ Center. Every time he ran the figures, his stomach tightened. *What if this Atlas guy isn’t serious? What if he’s just looking for a steal?* Bill’s mind churned with worry. *No, I can’t think like that. This might be our last shot, but it’s still a shot.*
When Atlas finally walked into the room, Bill was struck by his calm confidence—a man who clearly knew what he wanted and how to get it. He couldn’t help but feel a twinge of envy. *How does he stay so cool? If only I could be that sure of myself right now.*
What Bill didn’t know was that after a year of fighting for his life in the hellscape called the wasteland, a corporate meeting over a billion dollar arena was a Tuesday afternoon for Atlas.
Amusingly, it was indeed a Tuesday afternoon when this meeting happened.
After some small talk, Atlas laid out his proposal. It wasn’t a billion-dollar offer, but it was something Bill hadn’t expected—an agreement to partner in transforming the Home Fixin’ Center into the new home for Team Portal Crusher. The idea was bold: not just hosting SFB events, but making the arena a central hub for the sport, complete with training facilities, fan experiences, and year-round events that would keep the arena filled, not just during games but every day of the week.
The numbers Atlas presented were compelling. With the growing popularity of SFB, the potential revenue far exceeded anything the CFL could offer. *Hockey had always been king in Canada, with SFB rapidly climbing into the second spot. The CFL had been clinging to relevance for years, but it was a losing bet in the long run, just like Shane had said.* And the buyout? Atlas was willing to bet the ticket sales upfront, with additional investments that could push the total value of the deal well past the four hundred million mark if certain milestones were met.
Bill leaned back in his chair, his mind whirring. It wasn’t the billion-dollar payday he had once dreamed of, but it was a lifeline. It was a chance to save the arena, to keep it from falling into obscurity. And most importantly, it was a chance to avoid bankruptcy and rebuild the legacy he had worked so hard to create.
Atlas could make it work with just a tiny amount of cash upfront. The fame of the Portal Crushers, combined with the rabid fanbase the SFB had cultivated, would drive ticket sales through the roof. Bill could already picture it—the arena, once again filled with cheering fans, the roar of the crowd, the spotlight shining.
But a nagging doubt lingered in the back of his mind. *Is this really the right move? What if this SFB thing is just a fad?* Bill’s thoughts swirled, but he knew the answer. *No, this is the best shot we’ve got. If I don’t take this deal, there might not be another one.*
After a long silence, Bill extended his hand. "You’ve got a deal."
This was going to be a huge gamble for him, but if it worked? The money-sucking leeches from the bank would be off his back, and he would be reveling in glory.
Atlas shook it firmly, a satisfied smile on his face. "I think this is the start of something big, Bill. We’re going to make this place the crown jewel of SFB."
As Atlas left the office, Bill couldn’t help but feel a renewed sense of hope. The road ahead would be challenging, but for the first time in a long while, he felt like they had a fighting chance. And with Atlas on board, maybe—just maybe—the Home Fixin’ Center would once again become a place of glory.
For Atlas, this nutso deal was great. But it would depend on one other thing. Would the board sell the team to him?
*I probably should have asked them BEFORE I made this deal.* Atlas laughed in head, thinking about how audacious his moves were.
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