Curveball

by Teresa Michaels

  I have to laugh. If anyone could see my thoughts I would come across like a chauvinist pig. But ironically, I never set out with some master plan to mislead women just to get them into bed. The scenario actually genuinely happened in a drunken stupor after my last breakup. It worked so well that I just never stopped using it, and it did help me get over my ex.

  I shake my head at the simplicity of it all and then go a little bit overboard with the soap, lathering every inch of my body. I hope the smell of my body wash is enough to mask or at least dilute the scent April purposely left behind. I finish rinsing off and wonder - are all women really the same? Shutting off the water and stepping out of the shower, I towel off and give myself a good look in the mirror. I’m smart enough to know that all women are not the same, and yet I keep subjecting myself to those who are. Despite that, I try hard not to be a jerk. I never would have wanted a man to be disrespectful to either my mother or sister, which is where my personal commitment to always be honest comes from.

  Everything I say to the women I sleep with is true; I’ve actually never lied. I do travel a lot. During the season the team has 81 away games split between 16 or more cities. I live out of hotels even when I’m not looking to hook up. When we are in town, we have 81 more games in addition to practices, and events. In the off-season I spend time traveling to see my family and spend six weeks or so at a training facility in Arizona with my pitching coach and trainer. It’s hardly a lifestyle that easily lends itself to having a long-term, committed relationship, although some guys are successful.

  Toweling off my hair I mentally note that I’d rather continue doing what I have been doing than get deeply involved with someone, only to be tempted by the countless women actively throwing themselves at me, and hurt the person I’m with. I have been screwed over and it’s not an experience I want to repeat, nor would I want to do that to someone else. Until I meet someone worth being committed to I know the safest bet for me it to be single. The negative publicity that comes from a bad breakup can also hurt an athlete’s reputation, distracting them from the game. I know this from experience. I guess the same could be said of an awkward send off following a one-night stand, but there’s no long-term emotional connection to do real damage…at least not the kind of damage that matters. Either way, at this point in my career I cannot afford distractions so something’s got to give.

  I start brushing my teeth and walk through the bedroom. Wrapping my towel around my waist I open the curtains and take in the view. The sun hasn’t even risen yet. A half-moon in a cloudless sky still lights the skyline, reflecting off the Charles River. The usually bustling sidewalks of Copley Plaza and The Prudential Center are bare, giving the appearance of a city peacefully asleep.

  Since leaving home when I was 18 years old, Boston is the only other place I’ve been that I’ve considered my home. This city has always been a place I’ve felt comfortable and alive. It’s an amazing city with volumes of history, and full of people with immeasurable amounts of pride for their sports teams. I have been extremely lucky to have my career take place here, with one of the oldest and greatest teams of all times. I just hope I get to end it here, and not any time soon. With a deep sigh I make my way to the bathroom to finish brushing my teeth and get ready.

  Fifteen minutes later I am completely ready to go. I place a call to my agent to confirm the car service is on its way and he promises my ride is on time as scheduled. Having a few minutes to kill, I flip on Sports Center to catch last night’s highlights.

  “To recap our top story we go to Carson Daniels, live at Fenway Park.”

  “Thanks Dan. The big story of the night is the Red Sox complete another September collapse and will miss the playoffs for the second year in a row. Expectations were high at the beginning of the year with the signing of so many Marque free agents, coupled with their strong start in the spring and early summer. All the optimism has now faded and the reality of another colossal September failure is now setting in.

  With the season on the line, the Red Sox went to star pitcher Drew Scott for the final win to get them into the playoffs but he did not deliver, lasting only two innings, giving up six earned runs and having the Fenway faithful headed for the exits by the fifth inning as they lost 9-2 on the last day of the season.

  Rumors now linger around the club house about if Scott is still feeling the effects of his Tommy John surgery from two years ago and his unknown off-season fate with his contract about to expire.

  Live from Fenway Park, I am Carson Daniels.”

  “Thanks, Carson. Let’s take a look at social media’s take on last nights Red Sox loss and missing the playoffs:

  @soxfanforevah – chicken and beer was nothing. Drew Scott is a bum…..get him outta here!

  @greenmohnstah – two innings with the season on the line??? Not in this town #RIP Drew Scott

  @drewscottsarm – I throw 10 MPH less than I used to. I can’t get anybody out. #AAA

  Some very strong remarks from the Boston faithful. Drew Scott trending all night after his lackluster performance. Now, let’s go to MLB Hot Stove.”

  The next four segments have my name, or the Red Sox as topics. In a flash of frustration I turn off the TV and chuck the remote on the bed. You’d think after years of enduring scrutiny from the public and media I’d be used to comments like this, but the only other time I’ve experienced really bad press was a few years back when I tore my UCL on my pitching arm. Following surgery and after months of intensive rehab I came back stronger than ever. I’ve become one of the most beloved pitchers in the league with increasingly more impressive endorsement deals coming in each year. Four weeks ago I was a fan favorite and now I’m anxious that my contract may not be re-upped.

  I purse my lips together and frown. I know there is nothing I can do about it now. I sigh and think how complicated things can get in such a short amount of time. Shaking my head I attempt to get rid of the idea that at the peak of my career I could end up playing for another team next year or, worst case, not playing at all. I’m disrupted from my wallowing by my phone ringing. Taking out my phone I see my agent’s name, Brett Wheeler, pop up. My car must be downstairs. Without answering the phone I grab my luggage, my favorite hat and leave.

  The ride to the airport is quick. Before I know it we are at Logan and the press is waiting to greet me. Hopefully, the reporters won’t notice the bags under my eyes. Taking a deep breath, I put on my game face knowing that right now I need to put on a good show to secure extending this endorsement deal. The driver opens my door and the lights from the cameras momentarily blind me. There are half a dozen media crews and a ton of screaming fans chanting my name. Given the broadcast this morning, I’m pleasantly surprised that there are no angry fans. But I guess it’s probably a bit early for most people.

  I shake a few hands and sign a ball or two before walking into the airport lobby towards the ticket counter for Innovation Airways. That is where Brett will be waiting to greet me while the reporters get set up for the news conference. I glance at my watch. In less than an hour I’ll be comfortably sleeping on a plane or messing with the technology that has become the new airline’s claim to fame. A few yards away I see Brett and we exchange a nod as he finishes up a phone call. As I get closer he slides his phone in his pocket and greets me with a handshake and squeeze to my upper arm.

  “Morning Brett.”

  “Good morning, Drew. Are you prepared for the news conference?” he asks.

  I nod my head; of course I’m prepared. Well, I’m prepared for the questions regarding the airline. It’s the inevitable questions about my fate with the team and speculation about my old injury that have me a little on edge.

  “You told them no baseball questions, right?” I ask, knowing full well that it won’t make a difference.

  “Absolutely, Drew. I was just finishing a call with a reporter from Channel 7 when you arrived. But this is Boston…” he pauses, not needing to finish his sentence. I know that no matter what he say
s the questions will come up, and if I don’t answer people, including the team management, will think the worst.

  “Right,” I comment dryly.

  “Ok, I think it’s time,” Brett comments, and gestures for me to take the podium that has been staged next to the ticket counter.

  I’m impressed by the sea of fans that has formed. And as if a light switch has been flipped on, I smile widely and shake hands like a politician as I make my way through the crowd to give my spiel on the airline and field questions. I thank everyone for coming to take part in Innovation Airways maiden flight and explain how the technology and quality of service is light-years ahead of the competition. Within minutes the scripted portion is over and I begrudgingly take questions.

  “Drew, your fans want to know why you chose Innovation Airways as your most recent endorsement deal,” asks a reporter from The Boston Globe.

  I point the reporter back to my introduction regarding the technology and my passion for it, as well as new safety features that are sure to become industry standards. Thankful that the first question was easy enough, I select another reporter from the crowd.

  “Have you been able to sneak a peek of the cabin and experience the technology for yourself before today’s flight?”

  “Yes, I received a tour shortly after I signed with Innovation Airways. I even got to attend a portion of the airline’s employee orientation. It was cool to experience it from the employee’s perspective and also see the type of quality service Innovation Airways strives to engrain in their staff,” I explain.

  “That’s great, Drew. Can you tell us why you agreed to do this for the day after your last regular season game?” another reporter jumps in without being called on. Thanks, asshole. I’m only two questions into this and already it begins?

  “At the time this was scheduled we had a ten game lead. I figured I’d have a few days off before the playoffs but unfortunately that didn’t seem to work out as planned,” I respond.

  Before I can move on to the next question the same asshole interjects. “With your contract now ending and the lingering rumors about your injured elbow, what does the off-season hold for you, Drew?”

  I do my best to keep from giving the honest response I’d love to give. Clenching my jaw I flash the prick reporter the most carefree grin I can muster. “I plan to continue the off-season routine I’ve had since I recovered years ago. And I hope to end my career here as a Boston Red Sox, but not any time soon. My elbow feels great and I definitely have a lot more juice left in the tank.”

  Out of nowhere Brett’s arm is around my shoulder. “Unfortunately, that’s all the time we have if Drew is going to make Innovation Airways maiden flight. We appreciate your support. Thanks for coming out folks.”

  I wave goodbye and even throw a few signed Red Sox t-shirts into the crowd before Brett and I are given VIP treatment to get to the departure gate. We bypass the crowded security check and instead are taken through a side door to an office where my luggage and me are quickly inspected. We then exit through another door where we are given directions to our destination a short distance away. Once we are alone Brett turns to me looking concerned.

  “What is it?” I ask.

  “How is your elbow? Honestly,” Brett asks, and he’s giving me a look that tells me he already knows.

  I look around to make sure we are truly alone and exhale.

  “We have to go see Doc in Birmingham. I need you to postpone any physicals or team workouts until after the New Year,” I instruct. “I need to figure out what’s going on, and I need this done quietly.”

  “The GM’s going to want an update before they make an offer,” he explains, as if I don’t know this already.

  I shake my head and start down the hallway. As I near the corner I turn back to him and yell over my shoulder, the injured shoulder, “I thought you were the Spin Doctor; make it happen Brett.”

  Out of the corner of my eye I see him throw his hands up in the air as if my demand is absurd. But he knows as well as I do that this is exactly why I pay him.

  Chapter Three

  Let the Games Begin

  Breanne

  I step onto the plane and am pleasantly surprised by how spacious the plane appears to be. I know I haven’t flown in a few years, and never first class, but from what I remember planes weren’t this…modern. I make eye contact with the flight attendant standing just to the side of the aisle and she gives me a tolerant smile as she says, “Welcome Ms. Sullivan. We’re glad you were able to join us.”

  “I’m sorry. My plans changed this morning,” I say, slightly embarrassed. While this woman is clearly younger than I am, I feel as if I’m in grade school, being scolded by a teacher.

  “Luckily, we have one more passenger we are waiting for so it was no trouble,” she reassures me, hiding all traces of annoyance as she shows me to my row. “I hope you enjoy the flight,” she finishes, taking my carry-on and putting it in the overhead compartment before going to assist another passenger.

  I scan my eyes around the plane’s interior trying to figure out why the area seems so much more spacious. It looks a little wider than most other planes that I’ve flown on, but not by much. I walk through the two-chair row and notice both seats are empty. Not that there is anyone to inconvenience, but I’m impressed that I didn’t have to turn sideways and shuffle to my seat due to all the room.

  I put my things down in the space in front of me and take my seat to get settled. Wow! This has got to be one of the most comfortable seats I’ve ever sat in! Not just for a plane seat, but compared to any seat or chair ever! I sit forward and turn to take in every detail I failed to notice before sitting down. The oversized seat is made of plush black leather that is soft, but provides the right amount of support. The armrests are so wide they could serve as a separate seat for a small child. I notice there is about a five-inch gap of space between my seat and the seat next to me, which seems to be an odd waste of space, but who am I to judge.

  Turning my attention behind me, I look at the head rest and notice that the width of the chair expands moving towards the top and at the height above where most people’s heads would be positioned, the sides curve slightly inward. If they wanted to give privacy it would have been nice if the head rest was a little lower, I think and smile to myself in mock disbelief as if I could have designed something better.

  Grinning to myself, I turn about face to get comfortable. I remove the hair beak holding the sloppy twist on top of my head and shake out my hair so it can start to dry. Bent over reaching for my purse, I notice a small height-wise rectangular protrusion that starts about an inch under my knees and extends to the floor. I push on it slightly and the rectangle slides under my seat. Hmm. Moving my legs to the side I notice a leather loop that was hidden behind my knees. I give it a gentle tug and find that the rectangle pulls down towards the ground and slowly rises to become level with the chair seat, becoming like a lounge chair or perhaps a makeshift bed. And it’s actually comfortable!

  With my legs extended straight out in front of me, and the rest of my body hanging over the side of the chair, I look at the right side of the leg rest and notice it has a small knob, which when pulled, opens a door I assume is for storage. I close the door and push the leg extension back into the position I found it in and take the book I brought out of my purse. Sitting up, I tuck my wet hair behind my ears and notice what I think is a 15- inch screen on back of the seat in front of me. There is also a small keyboard that looks like it flips up.

  Resting my left arm on the armrest I start to push back into my seat and feel a slight amount of pressure pushing back under my forearm. I pick up my arm and a small rectangular object rises from the armrest with the far end tilting away from me. The object’s screen lights up and displays the airline’s logo which starts out light and gets darker and bigger over time, looking like the logo is going to jump out of the digital screen. This must be a remote to the TV.

  With all this gadgetry I’m gues
sing the pre-takeoff speech will be even longer so they can explain how to use all this stuff. Shrugging, I open the book to the picture of my family and think about how Mark and Colin could explain all the technology to me if they were here. I scoot back into my chair to get comfortable and fight the urge to curl my legs up under me on the seat as if I were on my couch at home.