[Jazzmosis]

Chapter 74: A change of fortune

The morning started much like the last night finished. I awoke with painful thoughts of being alone, and slouched over as I walked, as if my back was sore. I dragged my feet from my bedroom to my kitchen, and poured myself some cereal. I wiped my eyes and headed to my phone, hoping that maybe, just maybe, Lilley had called and changed her mind.

My heart lifted slightly when I saw that there was two messages waiting for me. I took a bite of my cereal and pressed ‘play.’

“Mark, it’s Turisman. I hope you haven’t made your decision yet, because I’ve got a late breaking bulletin for you. I don’t want to say the figures over the phone, but I got a phone call from Oberg just now - he’s extending an offer to manage the Cubs. Call me back as soon as you can. Bye.”

I stood there, spoon hanging out of my mouth, staring at the phone. My mind was quickly trying to repatch the dismal future it’d started to throw at me in preparation. Suddenly, like a lightning-bolt, hope struck me. I was still trying to regain my consciousness when the next message started.

“Mark. It’s Rich Oberg - sorry I haven’t got back to you in awhile. I’m just letting you know here that I’ve extended an offer to you and your agent, Mr. Turisman - I don’t want to rush you or anything, but if you want to manage here we’re going to have to work something out this week. Hope to hear from you soon.”


I stood in silence for a moment as the messages ended. And then, all of the sudden, my body snapped into action. I picked up the phone and dialled Turisman’s number in a fury, quickly arranging to meet him in an hour at his office. I threw on some semi-respectable clothes and tossed (literally) the bowl into the sink, hurrying to put on my shoes. I bolted out the door and to the elevator, taking a quick look at Lilley’s door before the elevator shut and started to descend. I jumped into my car and flew to Turisman’s office, nervous excitement bubbling inside me.

Turisman greeted me with a smile and a handshake. “You’re early.”

“Good news doesn’t wait.” I responded, with a returning smile.

“Well, I’ll get right into it,” he said as he pulled out some papers. “Chicago’s offering a 1 year contract with a mutual option for 2011.”

“That’s a change from their previous offer of nothing.” I said.

He smiled. “You can say that again. Oberg offered up 1 million for this coming year, and the option is worth 1.5 million. Of course, it comes with conditions.”

“What’s the conditions?”

“He wants you to compete again. If you don’t, then he said they’ll probably cancel his side of the option.”

“Sounds fair,” I retorted.

“At first glance, yeah. But ‘compete’ is a term left almost entirely up to him. If you ask me, if you’re not in the running to the last week of September, you could probably kiss that second year goodbye. I’ve seen contracts like these before. Now Cleveland is offering a guaranteed two years - but I know that you want to go back to Chicago. So I’m just letting you know.”

I swallowed once. “Why would they put an offer like this then? Are they expecting me to reject it?”

“Well they’re putting forth an offer like this for what I suspect is two reasons - the first being that they know you want to come back very badly, so you’re more likely to take a worse offer - which is what I see in this contract - themselves giving themselves a lot of control.”

“And the second?”

“I’ve followed their interview process - some big managers have gone through - Jonas Sanson being one - and chances are, the pricetag is too high. I’m not going to lie to you - a manager with your track record of success deserves about 2 million a year, minimum. But until you see a world series game, I think most teams will look at your age and career record before anything else.”

“What does that mean?”

“It means that if you take Chicago, you’ll have a good chance of going to the playoffs - and that’ll get you more name recognition. If you go to Cleveland, you’ll have security, but that team needs work. If you go to Seattle, you could make the playoffs there, but it’ll be getting used to a whole new amount of players. It’s ultimately your choice, of course.”

I thought about it for a moment. “Call me selfish, but I don’t feel like heading to Cleveland and piloting another young team up the standings - I’ve done that with Arizona already, and then I got booted. I’ve done it with Chicago as well, now - but even with that contract, at least I still have the chance to keep going.”

“So, it’s Chicago then?”

“Call them, tell them I’ll accept the deal, so long as can split that total contract into even halves.”

“Pardon?”

“Well the deal’s worth 2.5 over 2 years, right? Tell them I want 1.25 this year guaranteed, and they can make the option worth 1.25 instead of 1.5.”

“Why do that?”

“Well you said they’ve got me in a corner, right? You’d know more than me about this, but I’m just guessing that they backloaded the offer so it’s easier to get rid of me in the second year. Frame it this way, and they’ll be hard pressed to say no if it’s for the same price, no?”

“It can happen that way, although they usually backload because they don’t have the financial resources right now, but expect to in the future.”

I snorted. “Trust me, Chicago is not short on funds. Tell them half/half, or they can find another overpriced manager that can do what I can. Pitch it something like that.”

Turisman smirked. “You sound like an agent.”

I smiled back. “Trust me, I’m not.”


I headed back home, feeling much better than in the morning. I ran over to Lilley’s apartment, and knocked on the door. I almost felt stupid now for saying everything I did last night; and I wondered if she’d even listen to what I had to say now. My mind raced around what I would say as I waited for her to answer. Impatiently, I knocked again. And again. Finally, I made the assumption that she was out and I headed back to my apartment, and picked up the phone.

I got her voicemail on her cell. “Hey Lilley, it’s Mark. I’ve got something really important to tell you, so call me back when you’ve got a free moment to talk.”

I wondered to myself, again, how it all sounded. She would be well aware of the polar opposites one night has brought in my attitude; I just wondered what condition she would be in when she heard the message. All I had to do was wait and find out, though.


I remember this day quite well, but not because of its eventfulness - in fact, quite the opposite. I sat around my apartment waiting for phone calls from both Turisman and Lilley, trying to kill the time anyway I could. I watched TV, I lifted weights, went out and played pool, had a few drinks, slept with the phone near my ear, and walked around the block a few times in the frigid air. And no matter what I did, the minutes seemed to drip by, the clock hand moved slower and slower each time I glanced.

It wasn’t until after I returned from my third round of the block when the phone actually rang. I hurried to answer, and heard a familiar voice.

“Mark,” Lilley’s voice sounded through the receiver, and my smile returned. “You called?”

“Yes I did.” I responded, trying to act calm.

“So, what’s the important thing you want to say?” Her voice was cold; she was undoubtedly still hurting from the night before.

“I. . . I’d rather not say it over the phone. Can I come over?”

She paused. “After what you said to me last night? I’m not sure. . .”

“No! No!” I pleaded. “I just want to talk to you in person. . . it’s related to last night, I guess, but, if you’ll just listen to me...”

“Alright, fine.” She responded.

I hurried out my door and down the hallway, trying hard to keep my excitement from getting the better of me. I looked at my old jeans and my white zip-up hoodie as I knocked on the door, and wondered if what I was wearing would be appropriate for what I was about to spill out of my mouth. I was in the middle of second-guessing myself when Lilley opened the door - wearing her usual pair of jeans and a green, low-cut sweater over a white top.

Not waiting for an invitation, I hurried in and turned to face her once she was between myself and the door. Her demeanor was colder, her stance more rigid - not surprising to me at the time, though. I was busy losing myself in anxious, nervous anticipation while my brain tried to quickly sort out the words I was about to say.

“So, what did you have to say?” She asked, her tone very blunt.

“First, I’m sorry about last night; I didn’t men for it to sound so harsh, or put you in that kind of situation. But believe me when I say that things could be better.”

“Oh?” Her voice still was ripe with skepticism.

“My agent contacted me earlier and informed me that Chicago’s made an offer to me. Two years, to be exact.”

Her eyes widened momentarily, but she quickly repressed them. “Oh yeah?”

“Yeah. It’s great news for me, all around. I’m trying to balance out the contract for more security, but I think I’ll accept irregardless.”

“Congratulations.”

I stopped - I didn’t expect Lilley to come flying into my arms with the news, but she was being far more hostile than I expected. I swallowed hard, pushed my excitement down, and let my concern come to the forefront. “Why so cold?”

She glanced her eyes away for a moment, undoubtedly gathering her thoughts. “I’m just wrapping my head around the last few days. You come in and tell me you’re leaving, that you want to continue this relationship - you dash what we had going - you hurt me - and now one day later, everything’s turned back around and you’re acting like you didn’t say anything before; that this decision would be it, and that I would just willingly go along with it. Is this what it is, Mark? If I just come back, how would I know that this wouldn’t just keep happening, over and over?”

I stepped back, partially offended. “I told you what I did yesterday because I didn’t know what I do now - trust me, I held off saying anything for so long until I was sure that I was going to leave - and I can’t help it if overnight everything I planned changed. Do you think I really wanted to put you through this? If it was so easy for me to break you and I apart, why would I have waited until the middle of December to do so?”

“How should I know?” She retorted sharply, her voice raising an octave.

“You should know! Cause you do know! You know as well as I do that if Chicago had offered me something right away we wouldn’t have gone through everything yesterday! You damn well know that I care about you, or I wouldn’t have came to you yesterday at all asking if it would work between us if I was in Cleveland! I’ve put off so much between you and I because I wanted to make sure I was here for awhile before I asked you to be with me! Yesterday was what I thought was the end of any relationship chance with you!” If I wasn’t screaming at the beginning, I sure was now, my face red with anger and humiliation.

“Maybe it was!” She screamed back, just as loud and passionate as I gave.

“No, it wasn’t, goddamn it! I was damn ****ing wrong about that - but only by one day! I should have known that the second I walked in here, it was over today!” I strode for her - quickly.

Startled by my sudden movement, and halfway-ready to wallop me with words, Lilley stepped to her side, as if expecting me to try and hit her. Instead, she bumped into the wall of her doorway, while I stepped past her and out the door of her apartment and into the hallway. I turned to see her spinning to face me, her face a mixture of shock, anger, and embarrassment that I’d stormed out on her, and got the last word in. Not waiting for her to try and stop me, I grabbed the handle of the door and wrenched it shut - giving it, at the time, a rather satisfying slam.


I huffed back into my apartment, just in time to hear the phone ringing. I grasped it hastily, expecting it to be Lilley launching into another verbal tirade. “What??!” I yelled into the receiver.

“Whoa!” A startled male voice responded.
My tone dropped immediately. “Oh! Sorry, who is this?”
“It’s your agent, Marvin Turisman.”
“Oh christ, I expected you to be someone else.”
“Someone I bet you couldn’t wait to talk to, from the sounds of it.”
“Heh - it’s a long story. Anyway, what’s the word?”
“I’ve got some good news for you.”
“Really?”

“Chicago agreed to the contract; I didn’t even have to argue it. So as of right now, all you’ve got to do is sign the agreement, and you’re re-upped with Chicago for two more years.”

“I’ll be there as soon as I can to sign that agreement.”

Within a moment of hanging up, I was out the door and heading to Chicago’s head office to put my name on the dotted line. I was back with Chicago for two more years; but I’d lost Lilley. I had to weigh the pros and cons - and without Lilley, I told myself to focus on baseball - and that through it, I would eventually be able to put Lilley behind me.


A week passed without any contact with Lilley - in any form, not even in the hallway. I was hurt, but the press conference with Chicago to announce the resigning, and trying to catch up with the team’s moves was taking my time. For Christmas, two weeks after my altercation with Lilley, I headed back to Ontario to spend the holidays with my family. My sister, married for a few years now, and in her 30th year, had just gave birth to her and her husband’s first child - making me an uncle at 24 - and named him David. I filled them, and my mother and father, in on my new contract, even though they knew already, and caught up with them after nearly three years of not seeing any of them. My dad had retired; help in part to some of the money I’d gave them to pay off their mortgage quickly.


I flew back on January 3rd, and immediately began looking at the transaction history Chicago had since the end of the season. Clifton Simoneaux, Tom Raht (a minor league pitcher) and Dave Dolman had been dealt to Seattle of all places, for a young starting prospect named Alberto Quinones.

Around the same time, definite hall-of-fame thirdbaseman, Pedro Deguzman had signed on board for 4 years - taking him up to 38 years old in a Chicago jersey. Rightfield George Martinez was dealt across town in exchange for a 35 year old catcher named Dennis Talmadge. Talmadge was going to assume the starting catching role, because Oberg had been exceptionally busy, dealing Cancio to Baltimore - in exchange for young gun starter Gregory Jackson, who was had a brutal 6.21 ERA in 187 innings last year, but was only 22.

It looked like I was dealing with a bunch of new faces; but at the same time, big things were expected from Jackson, and Talmadge was known for calling good games. And of course, Deguzman was only 7 home runs away from 600.

Analyzing the transactions and studying possible lineups filled most of my time throughout January. I had a lot of press conferences to attend, and it was there that I met the players and got re-acquainted with some of the old staff. I was preparing to move into a better place for the upcoming season, deciding that I could afford it. I had to head to Florida for spring training in a week, and was nearly about to sign a new lease before heading off.

However, it was that day that the phone rang. I answered it with little thought, and heard the voice on the other end.

“Mark.”

I swallowed hard. I had basically, out of bitterness, forced myself to let go of Lilley, and the emotions were pushing their way back in through the door.

“It’s Lilley.” She spoke, responding to my silence.
“I know,” I replied quietly.
“I heard you were moving out.”
“That’s right.”
“Do you want to come over for a bit, if you’ve got the spare time?”

I thought about it for a moment. So much of me wanted to slam the phone down, but so much more of me wanted to go over there. I finally responded with “I’ve got a few minutes.”

I made the walk down the hallway and rapped my knuckles on her door. I heard a shuffling on the other end, and the door opened in front of my face.

There she was - I hadn’t seen her in a month, and I was staring like I’d never laid my eyes on her before. She just gestured me in.

“Do you want anything to drink?”

“Uh, whatever you’re having.”

She disappeared into the kitchen for a second while I sat on her couch. Upon returning, she handed me a beer and took a sip from hers. She sat next to me and gave a small smile. I took a big gulp from my beer as she started to speak. “Why didn’t you tell me you were leaving the apartment?”

My eyes widened. “If you didn’t know, we haven’t spoke in nearly a month.”

“I know. But still, if I was leaving, wouldn’t you want me to say goodbye?”

I swallowed. “Maybe before everything that happened.”

She put her hand on my arm. “What if I told you something?”

I looked at her auspiciously. “Something?”

“I thought a lot this last month, and I’ve decided that I want to give this a try.”
“Give what?”
“Us.”
“Decided?”
“Yeah.”
“You’ve decided now that I’m good enough?”

She sighed a little and moved her eyes away from mine. “It’s not like that. Just listen to me: I was hurt before, because I wanted the same thing you did. But when you came back on what you said I just thought that it’d be how it is; being with you would mean that I’d have to put up with you leaving the city... maybe for good.”

“That’s my job.”

“It took me this month to sort everything out that I feel, that I think, that I want. And I realized something.”

“What?”

“That you and I have always remained friends even with you leaving the city a lot. It didn’t bother me then - so I don’t know why it would if I was with you.”

“Go on...”

“I’m happy with you, Mark. If you’re willing to give it a shot still, you just have to tell me so.”

I stood up and turned away, walking a few paces. “I’m leaving to Florida in a week, and just about to sign a new lease. How would you deal with that?”

She hesitated for a moment. “The same way I dealt with it before. But, what if I told you that maybe. . .”
“. . . maybe what?”
“. . . maybe we could get a place. . . together.”
“Whoa. That’s moving pretty damn fast.”
“It could work, though. We wouldn’t get on each other’s nerves; we’d have plenty of time to be alone if needed.”
“Yeah, but I’m not even dating you yet... and even if I was, I’d still want to make sure we could handle each other before moving in together.”
There was a pause. “Then, why don’t we start by being together?”

I looked at her, trying to decide if it was just a plea or sincerity. I got closer to her, watching for her reaction. “Do you think its worth a shot?”

She smirked casually. “We only have one life - I don’t want to spend it wondering ‘what if’.”

“Okay. Then I’ll give it a shot.”

And just like that - after months of speculation, uncertainty, and misery - my offseason plan ended up exactly as I wanted it - back with Chicago, and with Lilley.