Whitney Lopez had gone to the tournament because Bill Holloway was an amateur, a hack playing at reporter. A good-looking, rich, young hack, but a hack all the same. She’d be damned if she was going to let the angelic new guy ruin The Golden Sunrise Weekly Journal. A volunteer paper didn’t have to be a bad one. He was coming in too late to reporting to have the skills, and this night could be historic. Daniel Feldman’s seven tournament wins in a row had stood since 1974. It had outlived Daniel, and if Gil lost tonight it would outlive them all. For posterity’s sake, if nothing else, a competent reporter needed to cover it.

            Whitney glanced over at Bill and his wife Deb. They were chatting, laughing,...

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