by Romi Hart
Maybe that’s something I could never do – the whole not looking back. Of course, I look back. Maybe it's just my personality, to want to reevaluate, to learn from my mistakes. It's the nature of the game. I have to look back to every old relationship I ever had and wonder if I did the right thing. Did I make the right play? Was the timing right or did I try to steal home before I had the pulse of the game?
I know it’s not the same as baseball…but it still sticks out in my mind. Life is a play, romance is just a game. A game that you always lose…because no one can stay perfectly charming and good looking forever. I know the time will come when my career fades. My money runs out, and my charm becomes just an old man dealing with his senility.
So is that the time to get married? Or do I have to time it just perfectly where I can steal home, by getting her to commit to me when I’m the perfect prime age so that she’s stuck with me for the rest of my life?
Damned if I know. One thing’s for sure, I can’t quite shake Lyndia’s criticism of me. I know she didn’t mean anything nasty by it. This time it was from the heart…and it wasn’t a judgment of who I am. It was just a realization of who she was, or wanted to be.
So how come it hit me so hard? The first time I met her she was intent on judging me and telling me everything I was doing wrong. This time it was just an honest appraisal of where we were both going. And that’s what hurt the most, dammit.
I can’t think about this anymore. I hate being trapped in my own head. I have to get out of here. I have to get away from this habit of drowning my real thoughts with alcohol, partying and strange pussy. It’s a distraction…of course, I know that.
And I also know one unfortunate fact—that people who aren’t living the dream life of a sports hero could never understand the temptation. To live a life where women throw themselves at you. To be in a position where most people just hate to say no to you.
To get whatever you want with as little effort as possible. Just doing what I love, which is play ball.
No, Lyndia won’t ever understand that. But I know one man who does.
* * *
I find Nate sitting down in the team locker room. He’s relaxing after a practice game and thank god, clothed in a jacket and shirt.
“Nate! You sucked today, man,” I holler out in good fun as I approach him.
“Well, well if it isn’t the motherfucking knight in shining armor!” Nate says in friendly hostility—the same way we always talk. He gives me a bro half-hug and then smacks me on the back.
“Are you here to preach to me, brother? Tell me to abandon my evil ways and start treating hotties like my little sisters and sexy milfs like my own mother? Maybe better yet you can sit here and pray with me. Because I sure as hell need an attitude adjustment.”
“Look man, I’m sorry. Truth is, I did that to impress Lyndia.”
“Ahh,” he says, quickly killing the argument. Impressing a woman is pretty much the only bro code we have. “Well, I hope you got laid."
“Yeah well, it’s not that simple anymore.”
“Ah, so Reagan was right. You’re totally falling for Lyndia.”
“I can’t get her out of my mind,” I say, a little ashamed of myself. “I mean, you know me, bro. Usually, when I’m with a woman I can’t wait to forget her. Hell, I usually drink five more shots after I score just so I can forget her name. But this time it’s different. I don’t want to walk away. She has a power over me…she makes me think. She makes me feel something.”
Nate chuckles to himself. “Well, that’s just Reagan’s genes. Everyone falls for her…and everyone falls for her sister too apparently.”
“Why is that? Because I know I’m getting older and want to settle down?”
“Nah, don’t you know anything about relationships? Men don’t decide shit. All men know how to do is stick their dicks in places where it fits. Women are the ones that decide they want to be in a relationship.”
“Say what?”
“It’s true! A man has no power to resist a woman. Not if she sets her mind to it. Men are dogs, men are fucking babies. As soon as a woman decides to work her mental magic, the man is powerless to resist. He becomes a love slave. He chases after her like a bitch…meaning HE’S the bitch. She has him by a short leash. And women get away with it too. Because they offer something a man can’t resist. Good pussy and good conversation. We can resist pussy. But no brother can resist a woman who knows how to talk to a man.”
“For real?”
“I mean it. So what we have here is that a higher caliber woman has chosen you. Lyndia is anything but average. She’s a dreamer, a big thinker. The kind of girl who wants more out of life, am I right?”
“Yeah…that’s why I like her, I think.”
“So you’ve been chosen. I mean, I saw it the first time you two met. She was playing you all along.”
“I don’t think she’s a player.”
“Of course she doesn’t see herself as a player! She thinks it’s about love. It’s about compatibility, blah blah blah. But the truth is, she is playing you like a harp. She’s such a brilliant player she doesn’t even know she’s playing you!”
“Oh fuck off,” I say in frustration. “You don’t even know what you’re talking about.”
“I DO,” Nate says firmly. “Because I’ve fallen under the spell myself.”
“Really?”
“That girl you saw me with the other day at the restaurant? We’re in love.”
“No way…” I say with a big laugh.
He stares at me.
“Nooo, no way. I don’t buy that for a second.”
“It’s true! Why do you think I understand so much about the power of women? Because yours truly has fallen under the spell.”
“That girl? At the restaurant?”
“Her name’s Amanda. And she’s the best thing that ever happened to me. As a matter of fact, I’m going to propose to her next week.”
“Get the hell out of here!” I laugh again.
"I'm not shitting you. You think I like admitting to you that a higher caliber woman seduced me? She did. She played me. It worked. Now she's all I think about. I detest all other booties, asses, and titties because it’s NOT HER. It feels wrong, it feels like I’m settling for second best. Amanda is the first and only girl who really grabbed me by the heart. Now everything feels real for the first time. And now that she has a hold of me I can’t let go.”
“Hmmm. Maybe you’re right. That is sort of how I feel.”
“And the sex…the sex is so much better with all that emotion. All that nakedness of soul, you feel me?”
“Well no, I don’t really want to feel your naked soul, dude.”
He flicks me off.
“But yeah…I get what you’re saying, Nate. I guess sex really stops being mindless fun when you’ve met someone special. Now all I feel is the urge to win her over. To win, not just score, but win. Win her heart. Chase after her and get her to come back. Like that same feeling I get during the World Series, that moment of THIS IS IT. I can’t let her go. I can’t let her walk away.”
“Maybe you should tell her how you feel, bro, rather than being all gay here with me in the men’s locker room.”
“Asshole. Hey, thanks man…”
“Time to play ball bro,” Nate says with a smile.
Somehow, talking to Nate only confused me more, even though his intentions were good. It seems like I’m getting opposite messages here. Lyndia says I’m a boy and that I don’t want commitment and I tend to agree with her. And then Nate says I’m head over heels in love with her and that she’s roping me along like a damned steer. I really don’t know what’s what.
Maybe I am thinking of this the wrong way. Maybe Nate’s just confusing what I have with Lyndia with what he has in his own relationship. Maybe I’m not in love with her. Maybe I just like something about her, or like dating younger girls now.
I don’t know…dammit, I need to get out of my own head. And
I need to stop living in the shadow of Nate. I hate the idea of always following Nate. He was the one that first got me partying in college and nailing girls on the side. Now he’s all serious and falling in love…and is it a coincidence that I’m doing the same thing?
One thing that sticks out to me is how Lyndia felt the need to talk to her grandmother. I don’t think it’s any coincidence that after she did, she pretty much broke up with me. Did granny sabotage me…or did she just tell Lyndia what Lyndia already knew?
Maybe I should just tune Nate Jiggur’s dumb ass out entirely and take someone else’s advice for a change. Someone like family, like a man I trust above all other men…and who quite frankly, I’m a little afraid of turning into.
I mean my father, Reynard Ramirez, inside his private cabin inside the Burch Retirement Community. Dad was always good with money so made sure he retired in a really fancy-ass bachelor pad, complete with fireplace, full kitchen and of course that giant plasma TV so he could watch and criticize all the NFL games.
The fact that he’s a football fan at heart, and watches baseball solely because of me, doesn’t bother me. Hell, I take it as flattery. Baseball IS great because of me!
“That Nate Jiggur is losing momentum this season. He’s been making a lot of errors. I’m starting to wonder if he’s getting too old for the sport.”
Dad and I lounge around the TV drinking beers and reminiscing about the good old days.
“Now Troy Aikman, there’s a guy that knew when to retire. He left on top.”
“Well, I don’t know about that.”
“Oh he did, believe me. The Cowboys sucked regardless of Troy, but he was a damned good player, till the very end.”
“Kind of thinking of retiring myself.”
“Nah,” Dad says with a smile. “In baseball, you can play till you’re Nolan Ryan’s age. Those football players, they got to deal with all the concussions.”
“True. But I’m not just talking about the game dad. There’s a girl. I think I really like her.”
“Really? Well, if you’re like your old man, then you like a lot of girls. It’s the lifestyle, you know. Money, drinking…women. It’s hard to leave it all behind.”
“I just wonder dad…why didn’t you marry, mom? I know you don’t like to talk about it, but I think maybe it’ll help me figure things out.”
He sours in his disposition. He focuses on the television, rather than look into my eyes.
"I already answered your question. I didn't marry your mother because of money, drinking, and women.”
“Was it that simple?”
“It is what it is. Oh, I could have…"
Dad avoids the emotion of the moment by clicking on the dual picture feature, watching two games at once. Oddly enough, I do recall him saying one time… “Now if I could watch two games at once, that would be heaven.” He sure got what he wanted!
"I could have married her. And pretended that I wasn't a slave to women, drinking, and money. But then that would have just built false hope in Karen. Would have broken her heart.” He grouses and looks at the TV in spite. “I may be a lot of things…but I’m not that cruel. I was a pleaser of women, not a disappointment.”
“I know that all too well. So it was never a question you’d be a bachelor for life. Even when the money and fame ran out?”
“Well, I didn’t have as much fame as you, being in real estate. But the money never stopped coming in. The LOOKS…is what fades. As long as you got the money, the women keep coming.”
“Until what?” I say, noticing dad hasn’t seen much girly action in the last ten years.
“Well pardon my French…it’s until your dick stops working.”
I crack up. “I’ll take your word on that.”
“I will tell you this, Rey,” he says stoically. “If you’re asking me whether I have regrets? Of course, I do. I knew right away the first time I met Mary Elliot…my apologies to your mother…I knew I could fall in love with Mary. She was the one who got away, so to speak."
“Oh yeah? Why’d you like her so much?”
“Oh, easy. Because she wasn't a typical woman. She was more like a man. Not in the physical sense mind you! But because she was a real go-getter. An Eleanor Roosevelt type. She wanted to change the world. She was always moving ahead. More so than me. A woman like that is rare. She didn't want to party she wanted to get involved in politics. And that's exactly what she did. She ran for the Senate and she won! Did herself a good job of running the country. Married a good man too."
“And you regret not going after her?”
“I regret that things weren’t different. I regret we didn’t hit it off the way we could have. If I would have married, she'd definitely be the one. I respected her. I knew she was one in a million. She was going to be a big star, regardless of what happened to me.”
“So why didn’t you go get her, dad?”
He laughs to himself, still focusing on the game and the fumble—which he finds some much more interesting than this conversation.
“Because I wanted the easy life. Not her life. You understand now?”
“I see…”
“Just remember, Rey. All ballplayers come and go. The great ones and the not-so-great ones. Eventually, the music stops and you’re left with nothing. Only the friends you made along the way. That’s the bachelor life. So do you want an easy life…or do you want to always look back with regrets?”
That’s it. That’s what I’ve been waiting to hear. I may not know entirely what I want…but I don’t want a life full of regrets, that’s for sure.
Lyndia
Lyndia—I’m not going to stand in the way of you and world domination. I hope you find the path you’re looking for. I know you’re going to do great things…and I will be your biggest supporter.
But I for one hate it when people just bullshit about supporting each other without actually GIVING anything or DOING anything about it.
That’s why I’ve decided to give you an extra special birthday present. I’m writing you a check for $10,000. Do good with it…I know you will.
* * *
Rey’s extra special birthday gift did inspire me. I thought the best way to show proper respect for such an amazing gift would be to do something meaningful with it, and not just re-donate it. Something BIGGER, something adds interest to his already generous donation. Maybe deep down I wanted to show him the gift of giving, to let him experience it first-hand.
That’s why I decided to invest his money in an even bigger opportunity: a Charity Christmas event called “Holidays for the Homeless”. It took just a few phone calls to everyone in my local community all excited about the event—guaranteed $10,000 donation, with the hope of even more coming from local businesses that were in the giving spirit.
I knew there were so many homeless people in our city and I wanted everyone to have a Merry Christmas this year, no matter how cruel life had been to them. Everyone needs at least one special day a year—at least! Maybe this event would spark interest in more charity events in the future, more campaigns, more fucking giving!
The event was such a great success. It was the first thing I ever really organized. And though it wasn’t all about me, I did feel the great feeling of accomplishment, knowing that I brought everyone together. That I really could make a difference if I just set my mind to it.
I stayed for two hours meeting and greeting bigwigs and important people who decided to celebrate Christmas early with a donation. Though nobody gave a check as high as Rey Ramirez, together, we raised $50,000!
The night couldn’t get any better, right?
Well, that's what I thought too…until the night actually ended. And before it ended, we got a visit from a very special VIP.
“Lyndia? Rey Ramirez is here.”
My project manager Lindsey doesn’t even give me a chance to freak out—she just brings Rey directly to me, totally oblivious of the fact that I cannot possibly talk to this man unless I’m prepared. I h
ave to rehearse. I have to think about what to say…otherwise I just…
“H-Hi!” I smile. And stare. Looking like an idiot.
“Lyndia,” he says with a smile. “I was so excited when I heard about Holidays for the Homeless, I decided to come down and make an appearance in person. Egotistical, I know…but on the plus side, it did get some damn good publicity.”
I look on in astonishment as press reporters fill the building, with networks, cable and Internet channels all filming the event—the event I built with my own hands.
My eyes well up with tears. He doesn’t realize what this means to me…
Rey takes me aside, away from the celebration and the VIP interviews. He gently guides me to a corner where I can hear him. And unfortunately…where he can hear me whimpering like a little poodle.
He looks into my wounded eyes and takes my hands with his…
“You don’t have to say anything. This is all you. I loved what you did with my gift. You made a small token of appreciation and turned it into something amazing. I realize now you’re not all talk. Everything you do is because you care about people. I’m damn proud of you, Lyndia. And everyone else is too.”
“Rey…I…I…”
“Don’t say anything. This is your moment. Enjoy it.”
Without even giving the option of saying something stupid, Rey leaves me and rejoins the group of reporters. He laughs it up and meets and greets with some of the city’s biggest names. He knows his name adds something special to the event. Now we’re bound to get national coverage.
And all without any games, without any expectations. No control, no winning.
Just the Rey deep down that I always wondered if he existed. Maybe it’s best he didn’t say anything else. Maybe it’s best that we just enjoy this great night for what it is.
I’ve literally stalked Rey all night…definitely not content with our last conversation. He was definitely required to explain himself. Required to talk to me, to tell me why and how, and when! I had so many questions…I had to see him.
