A Brand New Ballgame
Page 4
Chase instantly understood the subtext underlining the question. He held a hand up to his mouth and laughed. “Eric? Straight arrow Eric? Uh, no, we don’t have ground rules. Our only rule is to make sure someone calls for the ball when it heads into that no man’s land between us in the outfield.”
“Chase, we can’t act like what happened between us doesn’t matter. It does matter, and it’s in our best interest that we figure out what to do about it right now. The GM wants me to help win games, and that’s what I intend to do.”
Chase reached up and rubbed his chin. “Now let me understand this, Coach. It’s your first day here. It took you longer to get here than it took me, and you are going to tell me how to think about what happened when we fucked in a motel room last fall?”
His raw language startled me. I shook my head and recoiled from the simmering anger in Chase’s voice. I wanted to reach out and hug him and then tumble to the turf and make out. Unfortunately, I was the coach, and I had to stick to my script.
I said, “I’m not telling you how to think, but I do think we need to make a decision about the two of us, so we’re not distracted from the reason why we’re here. We can’t have a relationship. It would open up ten cans of worms. We need to put it to rest right now. We can’t treat it like it doesn’t matter, and we have to make a decision.”
Chase pounded his fist on his chest and blurted out, “I can’t treat my heart like it doesn’t matter either!”
I tried stepping forward to put a hand on Chase’s shoulder, and he rebuffed it by sticking out his right arm and shoving his open palm against my chest. He started to jog away, and I shouted after him, “I’m the coach, and you’re a player! That’s what we are! Now let’s win some ballgames! I know we can do that!”
I watched Chase as he jogged across the outfield in the direction of the dugout. He lowered his head again when he passed the base path. I sighed and stared up into the stands for a moment. I imagined my grandfather was staring down at me. He died while I was still playing in Little League, but I remembered every detail about the day he showed me his World Series ring. He placed it on my thumb so it would come close to fitting. I had a goofy smile on my face in the photo my mom shot and stuck in with the family Christmas letters that year.
In the dugout, I sat on the opposite end of the bench from Chase. I couldn’t keep my eyes completely off him, and I noticed him glancing in my direction periodically, but we never spoke during that first game.
Chase was one of the heroes of the season opener. He was in the fifth position in the batting lineup. I told Ben that he buried Chase in the batting order. I suggested that Chase might be an outstanding leadoff hitter, but putting him in second for now would give him some much-needed experience.
I was told, “He needs to prove he can bat better than the way he ended last season. I know he dominated the opposing pitchers in spring training, but he needs to convince me that he can do it here, too.”
I don’t think Chase heard the conversation, but he stepped up to the plate in the second inning looking like he was ready to prove himself. He unloaded on the second pitch and hit it into the right-field corner. When the dust settled, Chase slid into third base safely with a season-opening triple.
The Yellowjackets roared in the dugout. I heard Eric’s voice above the others shout, “All-Star!” Chase had a long road ahead for that designation, but I was already a believer.
Chase scored Charlotte’s first run of the season when the next batter dribbled a ball out toward second base. The fielder tried to look Chase back to third, but he knew that his only play was at first as Chase barreled into home. He was greeted with a hero’s welcome as we took the lead 1-0.
I had a smile on my face as I watched Chase, but he failed to look in my direction. He was still seething from our brief conversation.
The opening day contest wasn’t much of a game. By the sixth inning, we led 8-2, and our starting pitcher was in firm control. Chase added two more singles, but the first baseman somewhat overshadowed him by powering a grand slam over the center-field wall. Eric added punctuation to the victory when he hit a solo homer in the bottom of the eighth. The dugout was full of smiles of both triumph and relief. At least for opening day, the Charlotte Yellowjackets no longer looked like cellar dwellers.
As Mo Sadler, our closer, struck out the final batter of the game, our team stormed the field. Chase joined in the festivities while the team threatened to smother the tall, lanky pitcher between the pitcher’s mound and home plate. For a split second, I wondered if Mo might have an interest in Chase. He stared approvingly at the rookie in the dugout. When the group broke up, and players began filing toward the locker room, I attempted to approach Chase and congratulate him on the game.
I was surprised when he smiled and asked, “What did you think of that, Coach?”
I opened my arms wide and hugged him. “Congratulations! You were impressive. I’m looking forward to a fantastic season.”
As I pulled back, Chase said, “I was thinking about what Huggins said to me about the World Series. I don’t know if I mentioned that to you. I think he laid a lot of responsibility on both of us. If you need any extra help encouraging some of our hitters, let me know. My high school coach had me help him as a batting mentor.”
“You’d do that for me?
“I’d do a lot for you, Coach. I’d love to hang around and chat, but I’ve got a date with the media. I’ll see you around.”
My jaw dropped as Chase patted my cheek before heading to the locker room. His entire demeanor changed.
I knew that someday I would face the press on opening day, too. That was part of a manager’s job, but for the current season, I was in the junior section of the coaching staff. If it weren’t for my young age, no one would have noticed me at all. I was just another coach with a long-term dream.
After congratulating a few other players, I entered the locker room and headed for my office. Halfway there, my cell phone buzzed. I pulled it from my pocket worried that it was a call from Meyer Huggins.
Instead, it was Uncle John. He called to congratulate me on my first game in the majors. I was happy to receive the call. At least somebody noticed. He said, “Your hitters tore up the park. You must be doing something right.”
I laughed and said, “My one day here really lit a fire under them. I’m sure it’s all because of my presence.”
I heard the pride in Uncle John’s voice. He said, “Your grandpa would be extremely proud of you, Aaron. He’s probably up there in heaven bragging that his grandson will be one of the best managers the big leagues have ever known.”
5
Chase
As I approached a taxi outside the stadium that would take me to hang out at a bar with Eric and Javier in celebration of our opening day victory, I saw Aaron leaving the stadium on foot. I held up my hand to the driver and poked my head inside the cab to ask Eric and Javier to wait for a minute.
“Who’s out there?” asked Eric.
I said, “Hang on. I’ll be right back.”
I called out, “Hey, Coach, come and join us! We’re going out to celebrate!”
I walked quickly to intercept Aaron’s path. He said, “Hey, that’s a great idea, but you know I don’t think being too close is a good thing.”
I pointed toward the cab. “I’m not kidnapping you or seducing you. Eric and Javier are waiting for us. It’s safe. Maybe this will help us move things in a new direction. You need to celebrate your first game in the big leagues.”
Aaron leaned over his knees and looked toward the cab. It was dark out, but it was impossible to miss Eric’s waving hand in the light cast by the street lamp. “You’re dragging Javier along, too? He can barely speak English.”
“Eric says he’s a lot of fun hanging out in bars. Javier is a magnet for females. Eric said we shouldn’t expect Javier to leave with us afterward. He’ll find other company before the night is over.”
Aaron laughed. “And you’ll find a man.”
I held the front door open for him and said, “Coach, you get the front seat. The rest of us are lowly players, and we’ll crowd together in the back.”
“Umm, right,” mumbled Aaron.
I shut the door behind him and said, “Move over, you two,” as I pushed Eric into the center seat in the rear of the taxi.
“The coach coming with us?” asked Javier in his thick Dominican accent.
“I think they kidnapped me,” said Aaron.
Eric gave the driver the address for his favorite downtown bar. I held on to Eric’s leg as the driver took corners twice as fast as necessary. It was an unusually warm spring evening as we arrived, and a small crowd stood outside the door. Many were chatting, and a few were smoking cigarettes. Most of them wore baseball jerseys and caps.
I asked, “Are you sure they won’t mob us here?”
Eric said, “They often see players here after games. They might ask you for an autograph or two, but it’s a good crowd. They’re here to have fun not cause trouble.”
A raucous cheer rose from the fans as we entered the bar. A man approached and offered to buy our first round of drinks. Eric graciously accepted the offer and took our orders for bottles of local microbrews.
I spotted a table near the opposite wall and shouted near Eric, “Let’s go over there. Maybe then we can hear each other talk! I’ll bring the beers.”
Javier was already chatting with a woman nearby. I touched his shoulder and asked if he wanted to join us. He smiled at the woman and turned to follow us to the table.
As Eric seated himself, he asked Aaron, “How will the Ramblers fare without you? I heard that you were building a great team to feed us talent. You were creating the foundation for a future championship Yellowjacket team.”
Aaron grinned. He said, “I’m sure they can carry on. I think I’m still in a state of disbelief. As soon as my playing career came to an end, I planned to make it to the majors in the coaching structure, but I didn’t expect it to be so soon.”
“I understand that. You’re barely older than us. Most people would never guess that you’re a coach.”
Aaron said, “That’s probably why that woman at the bar asked me what position I play. She saw me arrive with the rest of you. I think she recognized Eric.”
Eric clapped Javier on the shoulder. He said, “Or this man. All the ladies know Javier.”
Javier beamed showing off a sparkling set of perfect white teeth. He said, “They like Eric, too.”
Eric shrugged. “Someday I’ll find the right one. I suppose it will happen when I least expect it. That’s how it happened for my parents. My dad was the usher who busted my mom for smoking pot at a concert.”
I asked, “People got in trouble for that?”
“The people next to her complained, but he helped my mom and her girlfriends find different seats when he realized she wasn’t an ordinary troublemaker. He caught up to them when they were leaving afterward and asked her for a date.”
Aaron laughed out loud. “That’s a great story! I love hearing stories like that.” He stood up from the table and said, “Guys, I’ll be right back. I have to use the little boys’ room.”
We all turned and watched Aaron from behind as he disappeared into the crowd at the rear of the bar. I couldn’t miss the opportunity to see his ass in tight jeans again.
Eric gripped my shoulder and said, “Yeah, I can see the attraction now. Even though I’m not into guys, I understand why Coach is a great catch. He’s good-looking, and he’s a nice guy, too. I hope Eckert doesn’t chew him up and spit him out. With Huggins at his back, Eckert is like a buzz saw.”
I shook my head. “He would be great, but I can’t catch him. That’s a no-no for both of us. We’re vowing to be professionals about it and hopefully friends, too.”
“Seriously? You’re going to let him get away?” asked Eric.
I sighed and swallowed a huge mouthful of the beer. “Don’t make it sound worse than it already is.” I was ready for another beer, and I hoped the alcohol would take effect soon. I wanted the buzz to help ease my frustration about Aaron.
I grumbled, “If I find somebody else, then I won’t need to worry about the fish that got away. Keep your eyes open for me.”
Eric sighed. “I think we’re at the wrong kind of bar to look for dates for you.”
Aaron reappeared and placed a hand on my shoulder. He asked, “Did you miss me? Can I get another round of drinks for everybody? This round can be on me.”
We all nodded in unison, and I tried not to cringe. I wanted to reach out and let my fingers crawl up Aaron’s arm to explore the rest of his body, but I vowed to hold myself in check. Aaron grabbed his empty chair and pushed it slightly closer to me before he sat down. He said, “I’ll go to the bar in another minute or two.”
I said, “I might be dead by then.”
Aaron smirked. He said, “This is a great bar, Eric. They have sports stories in a case mounted on the back of the stall door, so you can read about the Yellowjackets while you’re doing your business.”
“Did you learn anything?” asked Eric.
“Nothing I didn’t know already, but I didn’t know the local paper covered my arrival and printed such glowing reviews of Chase’s star turn in spring training.” He leaned closer to me. “I sighed when I spotted your spring training batting average again.”
I hoped he sighed when he spotted me, too. I raised an eyebrow at the comment about my batting average. “What’s wrong with it?”
“There’s nothing wrong with it. You were just so close. I read the .398 and wished for you that one or two more hits could have turned it into .400.”
Eric chuckled and said, “He’s got at least fifteen more years to fix that.”
I swallowed the last of my beer and said, “Twenty.”
Aaron stood and said, “That’s my signal to go for refills. The same for everyone, right?”
We all nodded again. As Aaron left the table, Eric asked Javier, “Have you spotted your company for the evening, yet?”
Javier grinned. In slightly broken English, he replied. “She is at the bar. The side of Coach.”
Both Eric and I focused our attention on the bar. We spotted the object of Javier’s affection. She had long black hair that trailed down to the center of her back. She was chatting with an older gentleman next to her, but I would have concluded, like Javier, that she was fair game.
I said, “She’s wearing a Yellowjackets jersey. That’s a good sign.”
“Unfortunately it says Sadler on the back,” added Eric.
“He’s not here, and I don’t think she’s his type. Javier has her all to himself.”
“I will find out,” said Javier. He rose from the table, turned sideways and pushed his way through the crowd. The woman spotted him when he was three steps away. Despite the dim light, we saw her grateful smile from across the bar.
I said, “It looks like he’s scoring again.”
“There’s something about that Latin lover mystique,” added Eric.
“He is handsome. He has that smooth, tan skin and a smile that would stop traffic.”
Eric raised an eyebrow and asked, “Are you sure he only likes women?”
I shoved Eric and shook my head. “No, I’m not going to seduce Javier. I need to find someone who doesn’t play baseball.”
Eric whispered, “Shh,” when he saw Aaron returning with drinks in hand.
As he straddled his chair and sat down, Aaron said, “We have an extra bottle. I was going to give this one to Javier, but I saw that his new conquest already bought him a beer.”
Eric’s brows lifted. “She’s on solid ground financially. Javier might have found himself a real winner.”
I stuck my
fingernail under the edge of the label on the new bottle of beer. Eric said, “Now let’s hope some of his luck rubs off.”
“You need company tonight?” asked Eric.
I shook my head. “Nope, not tonight. I’m sleeping alone in my bed. I’m getting up early tomorrow and going for a jog. Then I’m hitting the gym.” I slapped my chest with the palm of my hand. “This body doesn’t happen by magic. It’s the result of dedicated work.”
I was pleased to see Aaron’s gaze fixed on every one of my movements. He said, “You’re the type of player who makes coaches proud.”
“Yeah? Are you proud of me?”
Aaron nodded. “Of course. You were the batting hero today.”
“Hey! I hit a home run!” interjected Eric.
“Okay, he was one of many heroes,” said Aaron correcting his comment.
Eric smiled and tried to look shy and unassuming. “Aw, thank you.” Then he glanced at me out of one eye and looked at Aaron again. Turning back toward the bar, he spotted someone and said, “I hate to abandon you boys like our Latin friend, but I think I see a possibility there at the end of the bar.”
I saw three women sitting there, and none of them looked like they were interested in anything but their own conversation. Eric was bailing out so that I could be alone with Aaron. I didn’t know whether to thank him or try to throttle him.
“You’re leaving us?” asked Aaron.
“I need to strike while the iron’s hot, and that one on the right is hot.”
She was a blonde, and she dismissively tossed her hair to ward off any men who dreamed of getting close. Eric stood up. He winked at me and then strode across the bar with his beer in hand.
As Eric disappeared into the crowd, Aaron leaned across the table and said, “That was on purpose.”
I groaned. “What was your first clue?”
“He’s a good man. You have good taste in friends. I like both Eric and Javier. They are valuable members of the team, too.”
I crossed my arms over my chest and leaned back in my chair. I said, “I like to think I have good taste in everything that I do.” I stared at Aaron’s face and thought about how the low light obscured the green color of his eyes.