by Pat Simmons
“Fools are born every day, and I’m not talking about at birth but when they’re in a bind. You were born with a good name. Guard it to the grave.” Then he’d imparted another piece of wisdom. “How do you want your name to be remembered? Pud Galvin went down in the history books boasting that he used a concoction of the testicles of dogs and guinea pigs, which he called a testosterone supplement. There are no shortcuts to play fair.”
To drive the point home, his father had talked about Babe Ruth supposedly injecting himself with extract from sheep testicles and some quack doctor injecting Roger Maris with steroids and amphetamines. That year, Roger Maris had beaten Babe Ruth’s single-season home run record.
“Have integrity, Son. God gives everyone talents. You have yours built into your genes. Don’t be so lazy that you cave in to pressure to cheat.” Those had been Ronald Maxwell’s lasting words to keep Rahn on the straight and narrow.
“Let’s go, man.” Marcus banged on the door, sucking Rahn back to the present.
“Give me a minute,” Rahn called out, scrubbing vigorously. It definitely wouldn’t be a good day to arrive late at Citi Field to begin a four-game series against the Mets. He dried, dressed, and was ready in less than ten minutes.
“You know Mike’s going to pounce on us in the locker room,” Marcus said as they left the hotel minutes later. “He won’t want José’s book to mess with our heads and divide our team.”
Although Marcus was right about their manager, it was too late. The book was all Rahn could think about.
***
“Rahn, what’s going on?” Shae’s heart pounded as the words rolled off her tongue. She had barely closed the door to her condo when she’d tapped his name on her smartphone to ring his number.
Throughout the day, the steroid story had refused to die. The news staff had scrambled to track down every sports medicine doctor, former athlete, and pharmacist they could—anyone who might be able to provide insight on how and why a player would basically use performance-enhancing drugs to cheat.
To say it had been a bad day would be an understatement. Her colleagues had repeatedly swarmed her desk, as if she held the key to the door with all the answers because of her ties with Rahn and one of the teams named in the allegation.
He seemed slow in responding. “Baby, before we talk about the breaking news of the day, can I get some love from my woman?” The tiredness in his voice was unmistakable.
Closing her eyes and taking a deep breath, she apologized, “Oh, I’m sorry. I’m really missing you right now.” Shae didn’t try to hide her emotional desperation that she needed him.
Rahn sighed heavily. “You have no idea how much I love you, miss you, and need you. My day went from—”
“Are you one of the Cardinals who have used—?” She covered her mouth in horror. Where did that come from? An uncomfortable silence hung between them, but she couldn’t formulate an apology, because she honestly wanted to know. Shae counted to ten in her head, and Rahn still didn’t respond. She closed her eyes and sniffed. God, please let this day be a nightmare.
“Who’s asking, my baby or the reporter?”
“Me,” she said softly. “The woman who loves you immensely is asking. I don’t handle surprises very well.” She thought about Alex’s bombshell. “You once told me you didn’t have any skeletons in your closet. This is not about me getting a hot tip to score points with the news director. I need you to confide in me.” Why was she feeling as if she was pleading a case versus the other way around?
“As a sinful man of a forgiving God who has washed me clean, then yes, I’ve used them—past tense—against better judgment, and a couple of times when I first joined the Cardinals eight years ago. I can count the instances on one hand. I regret that indiscretion. Since then, I’m determined to give the game my all and never to look back at my mistakes.”
When he paused, a tear streamed down her cheek.
Lowering his voice, he further explained, “I didn’t think that was a skeleton that would ever resurface. God is my witness that I would never do anything to shame you. Actually, I didn’t think of it again until hearing about the hype around José’s book and the players he threatened to expose.” He seemed to run out of steam as he quieted, as if waiting for her judgment.
Still sniffing, Shae padded across the living room to the bathroom to grab some tissues. She had definitely chosen the wrong profession—one where integrity was supposed to mean everything. This was two strikes against men who had either already humiliated her or were about to. As Shae tried to digest the truth, her tears turned into sobs.
“Shh, baby. I’m sorry to disappoint you and everybody.”
There is no condemnation in Me, God whispered to her, bringing to mind Romans 8:1. At the same time, she felt Rahn’s concern and his helplessness.
Retracing her steps back into the living room, she flopped on the cushioned seat and looked out the window. Closing her eyes, she whispered, “I wish you were here.” Her voice cracked as she struggled to compose herself, but silent tears continued to fall.
“Me, too,” he admitted.
“I’m sorry; I just lost it. All I could think about was my crazy day, not realizing yours was probably worse, especially with the Cardinals breaking their seven-game winning streak tonight.”
“I don’t care about that winning streak! I care about you…us. I need you now, more than ever, to believe in me.”
“I do.”
“Thank you. I didn’t want to have this conversation over the phone, but I didn’t want to keep you in the dark for nine more days, either. If I were there, I would cup your face in my hands and look deep into your eyes…”
She imagined him doing that.
“I would tell you I’d experimented with drugs when I was in the minors because my performance on the field was nowhere close to what my father had achieved. I wanted us to be the next Ken and Ken Griffey Jr. or Cecil and Prince Fielder. When my father found out, he was livid. His disappointment cut me to the core, so I stopped. My dad passed away before I made it to the majors.”
Her heart ached for him. Rahn had made a bad decision in his past that might come back to ruin his career. She had to be there for him. “If I have to imagine your beautiful brown eyes looking into mine, then imagine my smile. Thank you for confiding in me.”
“I told you I would always, always, be honest with you. But there’s more, babe.”
Uh-oh. Shae could feel the blood draining from her face as she gripped the phone. Could it get any worse? Suddenly, his two grand slams from the other night came to mind. She refused to ask him. “Okay.”
“When the Cardinals brought me up from their farm team, I had doubts about my abilities again. Everyone seemed to expect so much from me because of the Maxwell name. Against better judgment, and forgetting my father’s tongue-lashing, I consented to the trainer injecting me with performance-enhancing drugs. After the second injection, I could hear my father shaming me from his grave.
“That was eight years ago, Shae—the beginning of my career as a Cardinal. Since then, I’ve been clean. When I had my good days, I celebrated. When I struck out or was charged with an error, I drank. When the disappointment in myself didn’t cease, I prayed for help. Of course, it was out of desperation. I basically used God as my get-out-of-jail card.”
“What’s going to happen?” That was a stupid question. As a reporter, she knew: The baseball league would expand their investigation. Her colleagues would dig deeper and request every public document available, from kindergarten records to gossip from former neighbors.
The Major League Baseball Commissioner could rely on the media for supplemental information. There would be possible fines, suspensions, and drastic charges. In the end, careers would be ruined, reputations tarnished, and fans disappointed to learn they’d been deceived. The news media—her profession—was the watchdog of wrongdoing, with no exception, but this was personal. Her heart was on the line, and she wanted to protect Ra
hn. But how could she, in good faith, without compromising everything?
“I downloaded José’s eBook,” Rahn told her. “I’ve never been a speed reader, but so far, I’m not on José’s hit list. No telling who’s been feeding him information or what grudges are driving him to do this.”
“Does Marcus or any of your other teammates know what happened?”
“No. Just you and my mother.”
Shae’s heart swelled with love, then deflated in pain. “I’ll pray that God’s will be done.”
“And that’s the scary part, because who knows God’s will?” Rahn sighed.
“At times, when God does reveal His plan, we don’t have faith enough to believe it.” When Rahn asked that she lead them in prayer, Shae didn’t hesitate. “Father, in the mighty, wondrous name of Jesus, we come boldly before Your throne, where we may obtain mercy. Lord, we thank You for the cross, where You already nailed our sins. Lord, You love Rahn more than I do, and I love this man. We need You in this situation. Give him wisdom and guide him, so that no matter the outcome, Your name will be praised. Whomever You set free is free indeed, in Jesus’ name. Amen.”
“Amen,” Rahn repeated. “Knowing that you love me, and that God loves me more, I’m in safe hands. Good night.”
“Night.” The prayer had brought peace, but she knew the storm was coming. “Lord, only You can calm the hurricane-force winds heading his way.”
29
The fact that Shae was in this with him gave Rahn comfort as he woke the next day more determined and encouraged than ever to play good baseball. As he and Marcus dressed, they discussed Ecclesiastes 1:9: “There is no new thing under the sun.”
“The Commissioner set rules in place after the first scandal, years ago, so who would be stupid enough to try something as underhanded as that to tarnish our team and not think that it would be brought to light? I’m glad I don’t know who it is, and I don’t want to know.” Marcus’s disgust was evident.
Rahn felt as if he was back in grade school and the teacher had asked who had cheated on a test, hoping guilt would force the offender to raise his hand. What would Marcus’s tune be if he was aware his best friend and fellow teammate was that stupid person? “You sound like my father.”
Though your sins were dirty, I’ve washed them white as snow, Jesus spoke to his heart, bringing to mind Isaiah 1:18.
The comfort the Lord gave him made Rahn smile.
Marcus grinned, too, without knowing the reason. “Your dad was one bad third baseman and a pitcher’s nightmare at the plate. At least you got your talents honestly.”
If you only knew. Rahn had turned his back on honesty. He had been no different from the children of the kings of Israel. Whereas their fathers had done right in the sight of God, the generations that followed always managed to turn their backs on righteous living, just as Rahn had gone against his father’s counsel.
But Rahn had repented, and God had just reminded him that those sins were washed as white as snow. As he and Marcus were about to leave their hotel room, Yvette called, and his friend stepped out on the balcony for privacy.
Marcus sounded so much like Rahn’s father, it was almost eerie. “Lord, what am I supposed to do here—keep repenting, even though You’ve already discarded my dirty laundry?”
“Be still, and know that I am God.” The Lord gave him Psalm 46:10 to meditate on as Marcus rejoined him and they headed out the door.
That night, the Cardinals bounced back with a vengeance at Citi Field, pounding the Mets 8–2. The following night, the Redbirds’ pitcher shut out the New York Mets 4–0.
“We’re back,” the team chanted as the Cardinals kicked off another winning streak. But then, in Baltimore, the Cardinals took only one out of three games against the Orioles.
Despite the wins and God’s reassurances, the devil taunted Rahn with his past when he least expected it. As he beefed up his prayer time with God, his nightly chats with Shae seemed to suffer. He could no longer depend on the pillow talks he had grown accustomed to.
“Well, I’m tired,” Shae usually said just seconds after their conversation began. “Let’s pray so we can get our rest.” And Shae’s prayers were powerful and soul stirring, but when she finished, he wanted more from her. Neither of them mentioned steroids.
As a matter of fact, Shae no longer wanted to talk about work when he inquired. “Oh, it was just another stressful day,” she’d say.
One thing that never changed was the way she whispered, “I love you.”
***
Whoever said “Silence is golden” didn’t work in a newsroom. Shae had never withheld a scoop from her colleagues, and the secret was tearing her up.
It had been a few days since anyone had approached her for help in getting Rahn to talk, but that didn’t stop the rumors from circulating, which made Shae feel like she was working in a cocoon.
“No player is above suspicion, including Rahn,” her news director had the nerve to say to her. More than once he had voiced his displeasure about Shae’s refusal to use her connections to help KMMD get ahead of their competitors on the story.
At least her colleagues were respectful enough not to make eye contact with her when they mentioned his name among all those on the roster during the afternoon news briefings. Even fires, murders, or car chases seemed to take a backseat to the baseball scandal.
How could Rahn expect her to hold in a secret of this significance? She had to talk to somebody. Shari came to mind.
Surprisingly, her sister answered on the first ring instead of the call going to voice mail, meaning Shari wasn’t in the courtroom.
“Are you busy?” Shae asked. She never knew if Garrett was nearby, on the other line, or on his way to take her out for lunch, shopping, or a movie.
“Never too busy for my sister, so what’s up? Plus, I’m done with court for the day, and I have a few hours before I meet Garrett for lunch.”
Shae smiled. No surprise there. She couldn’t just blurt out what was bothering her, so she rambled, stalling. “Are you working on any interesting criminal cases?”
“Is this for a story you’re working on?”
“Nah, it’s a slow news day for now,” Shae explained. “You know that can change any second.”
“Oh. No, nothing big, just cookie-cutter cases of women who would rather add to the fastest-growing segment of the prison population by defending the losers in their lives.”
“What are you talking about?” Shae frowned.
“These silly women—some girlfriends, others wives or mothers—are willing to go to jail to cover for their drug-dealing men.” She sighed heavily into the phone. “I can’t believe how many women are stupid enough to be willing to leave their children and sit in jail for their men. Eventually, both parents will be incarcerated. Where does that leave the children? It’s not easy being their attorney. My job is to keep the innocent out of jail.”
Stupid was such a strong word, though it was probably accurate. But Shae’s situation wasn’t exactly the same. Rahn hadn’t broken any laws—had he? When did that steroid ban go into effect? Shae wasn’t faced with taking the rap and going to prison. She swallowed. Still, holding secrets was hard.
Shae was proud of her sister’s code of ethics, which made her not only a great Christian but also a dynamic attorney.
“Honey, I would snitch in a hot minute,” Shari went on. “What kind of example is a woman setting for her children if both parents are criminals?” Shari’s cell phone chimed in the background. “Hey, that’s Gee. Can we talk later?”
“Sure. Enjoy lunch. Thanks for your insight.”
“I will. I love you, and tell Rahn all of us Phillies fans say hi.” They shared a lighthearted laugh. Shari hadn’t asked her for an update on the steroid scandal.
Shae took a deep breath when the call ended. Well, that confirmed it. It was too much to ask her to stay silent, considering she worked in the news business. Rahn didn’t have to wait for the ball to drop as more
players’ names surfaced every day. Surely, if he came clean about something that happened a long time ago, the public would understand. Wouldn’t they?
30
Shae’s heart didn’t flutter like crazy as it usually did when Rahn’s next bouquet of flowers arrived at the news station. As a matter of fact, her heart ached. The doping scandal may have been old news, but with the team back on home turf, the buzz was about to grow louder.
“Okay, listen.” Diane approached her desk as if they were already in the middle of a conversation. “We don’t have to put you in an awkward position to interview Rahn. One of us can ask him the questions. What’s the harm in convincing your boyfriend to help us out? Unless…” Diane let her words fade as she placed her skinny hips, uninvited, on the edge of Shae’s desk. Licking her lips, she eyed her. “Come on, what do you know that you ain’t telling?”
“I won’t use my relationship to advance this story.” Shae repeated the same spiel she had given her other coworkers ever since the news broke, then changed the subject. “Have we heard back from the committee for the Emmys?”
“Nope, but there’s still time for a late entry. You could add this to your repertoire, if—”
“Let it go.” Shae put her hand up. “You and everybody else are welcome to dig up the dirt, but I’ve drawn the line in the mud on this story.”
Standing, Diane shrugged, then smiled. “Oh, we will.” It didn’t sound like a joke but a veiled challenge.
Shae released the breath she hadn’t known she’d been holding. She didn’t even want to think about the day when her colleagues would unearth Rahn’s secret that Shae had been sitting on all along. Lord, I need a distraction.
