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Jason · 10-03-2005, 05:30 PM

March 6, 2006, 6pm; Lakeland, FL

I thought my week was pretty crappy.

It was very quiet when I arrived at the park this morning. I had decided I would come in an hour before we were supposed to report so I could take a few extra swings in the batting cages. I wasn’t happy with my .263 average through five games.

I walked down the hallway toward the locker room wrapped up in my own thoughts. I was still stinging from Friday when I struck out chasing that nasty slider from Toronto’s Amaral. I knew he was going to be throwing it away and I still couldn’t hold myself back from swinging.

I was still mentally checking my bat when I pushed open the door to the locker room and hit someone hard.

“What the hell?” General Manager Dave Dombrowski said as he turned to look at me. He reached up and rubbed the back of his head. “What the hell are you doing here?”

Abruptly snapped out of my dreamworld, I looked around to see Skip, Assistant GM Al Avila and our owner Michael Illich.

“I only hit .263 last week,” I said. “I came in early because I thought the cages would be empty.”

Immediately images of the late Chris Farley flooded my head. I can’t remember the name of the character…but it was the guy who kept hitting himself and yelling “Stupid!” after he said something particularly stupid. Considering all four of these men could send me down to single A with a word, it probably wasn’t good to point out I had only hit .263 against Spring Training pitching.

“Only .263, huh?” Avila said with a smirk.

“Wish there were more guys on this team that wouldn’t be happy hitting .263,” Illich quietly said then lifted his head and looked at each of us. “We can finish this in the back office.”

“You dipped your back shoulder on those lazy fly balls,” Skip said to me. “Work on that.”

Without another word the four men moved to the back office and closed the door. I quickly went to my locker, changed and quickly walked to the batting cages where to my surprise I found Salinas already there. He turned around and smiled. He had apparently been there a while as the T-shirt he was wearing was soaked in sweat.

“Well,” he said. “Look who’s here.”

“I’m sorry,” I replied. “I didn’t know I had to reserve a time for the cage.”

“You don’t,” Salinas said with a laugh. “I’m just not used to someone else showing up and doing more than they have to do.”

I put my bag down in the cage next to Salinas and started pulling out my bats.

“Doesn’t everybody come down for some extra work?” I asked.

“Not unless the coaches make them,” Salinas said as he smacked a line drive against the back of the cage. “Most guys think what they get during team workouts is enough to make them professional baseball players.”

“If that was the case everyone on this team would be an all star,” I snapped sarcastically.

TH-WAP!

I heard the distinct sound of a baseball hitting the mat at the back of the batting cage. I looked up to see Salinas standing in the batter’s box, bat on his shoulder, staring down at me. I felt the bottom fall out of my stomach. I didn’t mean to insult him but I had the feeling that insulting comment about the guys he’s played with his entire career added me to the s*** list.

TH-WAP!

Salinas slowly lowered his bat and turned to shut off the pitching machine.

“I didn’t mean…” I began but Salinas held up his hand to cut me off. He leaned his bat against the side of the cage and walked over to the Heavenly Netting From God that separated the two of us. I really didn’t feel like seeing what my spleen looked like. Salinas went into a squatting position so that his eyes were on the same level as mine. The look was all business. I began to think it would be a good moment for someone else to come walking into the room.

“You seem like a good kid,” Salinas said. “So I’m going to share something with you. Listen, don’t listen, it’s up to you. But it’s for your own good.”

10-03-2005, 05:30 PM	#10
Jason Hall Of Famer Join Date: May 2002 Posts: 3,855	March 6, 2006, 6pm; Lakeland, FL I thought my week was pretty crappy. It was very quiet when I arrived at the park this morning. I had decided I would come in an hour before we were supposed to report so I could take a few extra swings in the batting cages. I wasn’t happy with my .263 average through five games. I walked down the hallway toward the locker room wrapped up in my own thoughts. I was still stinging from Friday when I struck out chasing that nasty slider from Toronto’s Amaral. I knew he was going to be throwing it away and I still couldn’t hold myself back from swinging. I was still mentally checking my bat when I pushed open the door to the locker room and hit someone hard. “What the hell?” General Manager Dave Dombrowski said as he turned to look at me. He reached up and rubbed the back of his head. “What the hell are you doing here?” Abruptly snapped out of my dreamworld, I looked around to see Skip, Assistant GM Al Avila and our owner Michael Illich. “I only hit .263 last week,” I said. “I came in early because I thought the cages would be empty.” Immediately images of the late Chris Farley flooded my head. I can’t remember the name of the character…but it was the guy who kept hitting himself and yelling “Stupid!” after he said something particularly stupid. Considering all four of these men could send me down to single A with a word, it probably wasn’t good to point out I had only hit .263 against Spring Training pitching. “Only .263, huh?” Avila said with a smirk. “Wish there were more guys on this team that wouldn’t be happy hitting .263,” Illich quietly said then lifted his head and looked at each of us. “We can finish this in the back office.” “You dipped your back shoulder on those lazy fly balls,” Skip said to me. “Work on that.” Without another word the four men moved to the back office and closed the door. I quickly went to my locker, changed and quickly walked to the batting cages where to my surprise I found Salinas already there. He turned around and smiled. He had apparently been there a while as the T-shirt he was wearing was soaked in sweat. “Well,” he said. “Look who’s here.” “I’m sorry,” I replied. “I didn’t know I had to reserve a time for the cage.” “You don’t,” Salinas said with a laugh. “I’m just not used to someone else showing up and doing more than they have to do.” I put my bag down in the cage next to Salinas and started pulling out my bats. “Doesn’t everybody come down for some extra work?” I asked. “Not unless the coaches make them,” Salinas said as he smacked a line drive against the back of the cage. “Most guys think what they get during team workouts is enough to make them professional baseball players.” “If that was the case everyone on this team would be an all star,” I snapped sarcastically. TH-WAP! I heard the distinct sound of a baseball hitting the mat at the back of the batting cage. I looked up to see Salinas standing in the batter’s box, bat on his shoulder, staring down at me. I felt the bottom fall out of my stomach. I didn’t mean to insult him but I had the feeling that insulting comment about the guys he’s played with his entire career added me to the s*** list. TH-WAP! Salinas slowly lowered his bat and turned to shut off the pitching machine. “I didn’t mean…” I began but Salinas held up his hand to cut me off. He leaned his bat against the side of the cage and walked over to the Heavenly Netting From God that separated the two of us. I really didn’t feel like seeing what my spleen looked like. Salinas went into a squatting position so that his eyes were on the same level as mine. The look was all business. I began to think it would be a good moment for someone else to come walking into the room. “You seem like a good kid,” Salinas said. “So I’m going to share something with you. Listen, don’t listen, it’s up to you. But it’s for your own good.”