"Everett!"
"Yessir"
"Come here, please."
This can't be good, Travis thought.
It was a tough start to the year in Bluefield. Through 84 AB's he was batting .262/.295/.333. He didn't have any homers, nearly had a 5-to-1 strikeout-to-walk ratio, and had been in and out of the lineup. Bottom line, he was struggling.
"Take a seat," the manager said.
Travis looked down and swallowed, prepared for bad news.
"Now, the start to this season hasn't been ideal," the manager said. "But, there's been some good in it. You've had some bad luck, and the team is thin at your position at the next level, so you've been called up to our Low-A affiliate."
"Vancouver?" Travis asked.
"Yes, Vancouver," he replied.
Travis didn't really know how to respond. Obviously, a call-up was the last thing he was expecting, and bewilderment was plastered on his face.
"Is there something wrong, son? You forget your passport or something?" the manager asked with a smile.
"No, no...I've got that, I just wasn't expecting it," Travis replied.
"Good things happen to good people. Take advantage of the opportunity. I mean it in the nicest way possible when I said I hope I never see you in Bluefield again," he said.
Travis chuckled. "You and me both."
"The team is on a road trip. You'll meet up with them in Salem. Here's your plane ticket. Good luck," the manager said.
"Thank you, sir," Travis finished.
Travis stood up, shook his hand, and bolted home. He had to pack his stuff and hop on a plane. Could he put Bluefield behind him and get back to who he was the year prior? It might be his last chance before he found himself a member of the free agent market.
