For Florida's sole remaining sex surrogate, love is a many splintered thing.
It's not just giant companies cashing in on America's defense industry.
How a throwaway idea at the Barkley ad agency became the "Sonic Guys."
A diner's guide to Texas's oldest Mexican restaurants.
Allred turned the opportunity into a year-and-a-half of solid production and an NBA contract — the first ever for a deaf player. And on Tuesday, with Ben Wallace's back ailing and Daniel Gibson still sidelined, the Cavs re-signed him for another 10 days.
As temp-work goes, it's a dream gig. On top of the $25,000 per 10-day deal, Allred's road-trip per diem jumped from $30 a day to $106. In Boise, each Stampeder was given one pair of sweats for the entire season. At the Cavs $25 million training facility, Allred was encouraged to take what he wanted. He froze and stood in the equipment room for 10 minutes, he says, before taking a step toward the swag.
"I walked over to pick up a shirt and looked over my shoulder," he says. "It felt like stealing."
Between practices and games, Allred still escpapes by reading and writing, in ways perhaps no other NBA player does. Around the locker room, he carries an Oxford professor's book on the Crusades, research for a historical novel he's writing about the 14th Century Battle of the Golden Spurs, between the Flemish and the invading French. He's also at work on a memoir and a "Victorian satire," inspired by his distaste for Jane Austen's Pride and Prejudice. "I'm a Dickens man," he says.
And when asked for a historical figure whose situation is analogous — undrafted D-Leaguer to hopeful NBA bench-warmer — Allred reaches back to 11th Century England, when William the Conquerer sailed across the English Channel to fight off would-be successors and claim his throne. And although it's not exactly a throne he's after, and his goals extend far beyond basketball, Allred knows exactly where he stands on his journey.
"I'm crossing the Channel," he says.