Diary Of A Can't Miss Prospect

[blgoblue2]

bump?

[Jason]

March 12, 2007, 4:30pm; Joker Marchant Stadium, Lakeland, FL

“It’s no worry,” I said to the reporter who didn’t get the hint from my ducking away that he was standing entirely too close, “I’ll be fine once the regular season starts.”

“But last season you did so well in Spring Training,” the reporter said a little too loudly. “This year you’re hitting .240 and you’ve only hit three home runs in 12 spring training games.”

“That would be forty in a regular season,” I said flatly.

“You would be hitting about seventy points below last season though,” the reporter pressed.

“This interview is over,” I said as I turned to walk off.

“Is it because you’re always out on the town?” the reporter asked to my back.

I hopped down the stairs through the dugout and into the locker room. I tossed my glove into my locker and slumped in a director’s chair. I propped by cleats up on another chair and closed my eyes and I leaned my head back.

“If I played as badly as you did I wouldn’t be relaxing,” Bill Sparks said.

“Up yours,” I replied without opening my eyes.

“There’s no way a nineteen year old kid should be tired from five innings of a baseball game,” Sparks snapped.

“They are when they play hard,” I answered.

“No hits in two at bats and two fielding errors,” Sparks said. “That’s playing real hard.”

“I make it look effortless,” I said. “Now leave me the hell alone.”

Sparks made a small insult but I could hear him turn and walk off. I rolled my head around to try and ease the tension headache that grew over the last half hour. I kicked off my cleats and made fists with my toes. I still can’t believe something I heard from the movie “Die Hard” would be so useful in real life.

I heard a sliding noise getting louder as someone pulled a chair close to me and dreaded the upcoming discussion.

“Please leave me alone,” I said to whoever came over. I could hear the chair make a slight squeak as the person sat down and silently cursed myself for not getting up and walking out when I had the chance.

“You need to get some more rest,” Pedro Torre said.

I opened my eyes and turned my head to look at him. I wasn’t expecting Pedro.

“I get enough,” I said. “I’m in bed by one or two every morning.”

“When you get up at noon that’s fine,” Torre said calmly. “When you’re up at seven it’s not.”

“I’ll be fine.”

“No, you won’t,” Torre said. “You’re slipping badly and the guys are talking about it.”

“No one’s talked to me.”

“I am.”

I turned my head back toward the ceiling and closed my eyes. I knew Torre was right that I couldn’t be out all night and still be the best I could the next morning but this wasn’t my first spring training. I knew I had a place on the team sown up. There was no going down for me and I could afford to cruise a little.

“I’ll be OK when the season starts,” I said.

“Did you know I won the rookie of the year?” Torre asked.

”Yeah, I knew that,” I said. “You only played half a season and won it.”

“That’s right,” Torre said. “Do you know what happened in my second season?”

“No,” I said.

“By May I was back in triple A.”

This made me sit up in the chair and turn toward Torre. I had always been lead to believe he was always a steady performer without trouble.

“I thought you averaged 30 home runs every year of your career,” I said.

“The key word is average,” Torre said. “In May of my second year I was hitting under two hundred and had only three home runs. They sent me down to triple A to get my swing back because they said I had lost it.”

“That had to hurt,” I said.

“It did,” Torre said. “Some of the guys there were jealous I had won the rookie of the year and would taunt me about being back in the minors after making it big in the show. Several of them said I didn’t have what it took to get back here.”

“You obviously made it.”

“Yes, I did,” Torre said with a smile that reminded me of my father when he was about to make a point. “Because I realized I had to work my ass off to stay here.”

“I’m working,” I said. “I’m here when we’re supposed to be and I don’t leave until we’re all done for the day.”

“The Dale Ellison I know showed up a half hour early and stayed a half hour later,” Torre said. “The guy I see in front of me is doing just what it takes to say he’s doing his job.”

“That’s not fair,” I said.

“Yes, it is,” Salinas said from behind me. “You’re letting all this get to your damn head and it all started when you met that girl.”

“Leave Tammi out of this,” I said as I stood from my chair and got toe to toe with Salinas. “She’s done nothing wrong here.”

“Except distract you,” Salinas said. “And you don’t know how to balance your personal life with professional life because all you’ve known is playing baseball.”

“So what?” I snapped.

“So you throw yourself completely into things,” Salinas said. “Right now, you’re so focused on her that you’re letting your job slip.”

I stared right into Salinas’ eyes and he didn’t back down. I knew that he was right but I didn’t quite know how to get out of this situation with my dignity in place. Fortunately, Torre walked over and stepped between us.

“Guys,” Torre said. “We don’t want to go here right now.”

“Yeah,” Salinas said. “He’s not going to listen. He’s got ***** on his mind.”

“You know what?” I said. “You can kiss my ass, Salinas. You’re married! You have kids! Who the hell are you to tell me I shouldn’t be with Tammi?”

“I didn’t say you shouldn’t be with her you little prick,” Salinas snapped. “I just said you’re so focused on her the rest of your life is suffering. Now stop thinking with your **** and start thinking with your head. If you come out of the spring playing like crap you’ll have the fans and media turn on you in a second. And if you haven’t noticed, Dealba is lighting things up and he’s becoming the real media darling.”

I turned around and slumped down in my chair. I kicked at my locker and knocked a few bats to the floor. I looked around and noticed most of the room was watching. I hadn’t realized we were drawing a crowd. I could hear Torre and Salinas whispering to each other but couldn’t make out what they were saying. Finally I felt a hand on my shoulder.

“Hey Dale,” Salinas said.

“Leave me alone,” I said.

“I’m sorry,” Salinas said.

”Leave me alone,” I said.

“Sure,” Salinas said as he took his hand off my shoulder. I could hear him shuffling away. My cell phone started chirping with the special ring I had assigned to Tammi’s number.

“Hey hon,” I said.

“Hey baby,” Tammi replied. “You running late?”

“Yeah, I am,” I said. “I’ll be back to the condo in about an hour. Can we make it a short night tonight? I’m kind of tired.”

“Well,” Tammi said with a purr, “That’s up to you.”

[blgoblue2]

Nice comeback.

[Jason]

April 4, 2007, 10:39pm; Kaufman Stadium, Kansas City, MO
(Detroit is 0-1 after losing on opening night)

“Man, that was really ugly,” Jim Price’s voice said from the little XM Satellite Radio sitting in Dealba’s locker. “The team looked just as flat tonight as they did in spring training.”

“Flat my ass,” Salinas grumbled next to me. “We were more like a downhill slope.”

I sat in my chair staring at the picture of Tammi I had in my locker. The Royals had just finished hanging twelve hits on us and we lost 4-1 on opening night. I had two of our team’s three hits but neither one was a serious hit. If the Royals had major league players instead of a glorified triple A team the fielders would have had the range to get the grounder I chucked up the middle.

“Well, Jim,” Dan Dickerson’s voice said from the box, “remember that it’s early in the season. Sure, we want to win opening night but they were on the road and didn’t get into Kansas City on time. They were delayed four hours by thunderstorms in the Kansas City area.”

“I know Dan,” Price countered. “But look at the horrible spring of the club and tonight’s performance doesn’t lend much credence to Dale Ellison’s promise the team would ‘turn it on’ when the season started.”

I felt the heat in my cheeks as my self-loathing kicked into high gear. Spring training was winding down and I had just come back to the team hotel after a night out with Tammi when I ran into Price in the hotel bar. I sat and had a few drinks and he brought up my slow spring. I told him that once the regular season came around we’d all flip it on like a light switch. He started to tell me stories about guys he knew during his playing days that felt that way and I cut him off and left. I knew I shouldn’t have done that and I knew I should have apologized. Hearing him on the radio bring up my words on the radio, I knew I’d burned a bridge.

“The team really did struggle in the Grapefruit League,” Dickerson said. “Only winning seven games in the spring isn’t what they had in mind when they arrived in Florida.”

“No,” Price said. “And if you had asked Ellison if he’d hit .200 for the spring he would have laughed at you.”

“I hit .216 you jerk,” I said quietly to the radio.

I turned my head to look around the room for Dealba. The new golden boy of the ballclub was standing next to the shower holding court with a few reporters. I stood from my chair and began to reach for Dealba’s radio when Salinas interrupted.

“Leave it on,” he said.

”Come on Will,” I said. “I don’t need this right now.”

“Yes you do,” Salinas replied. “We all do.”

“Price is blowing it all out of proportion,” I said. “The spring stats don’t matter and one loss on the road isn’t going to be the end of our season.”

“Actually,” Steven Spurrier said as he walked up to us, “it could.”

This caught both Salinas’ and my attention.

“Please go on,” Salinas said with a curious smile.

“When I was in high school,” Spurrier said as I groan and Salinas glared at me, “We were expected to win the league title. Our first game of the season was against Burlington South high who was always the doormat of the league.”

“Kind of like the Royals,” Salinas said.

“Yep,” Spurrier said. “Anyway, we get to their field and they had maybe ten people in the stands to root for them. We had a hundred. It was sweet.”

“So what happened?” I said with obvious impatience.

“In time,” Spurrier said with a smile that indicated he was going to make this harder on me because I sassed him. “Be patient young grasshopper.”

I rolled my eyes and flopped back in the chair next to my locker. Salinas turned his to face Spurrier and motioned with his hand to continue.

“So we go out and I give up four runs in the first inning. I walked the first two hitters and I had three errors behind me.”

“Ouch,” I said.

“So we get up in the second inning and go down in order. We go out and give up three more runs in the second.”

“Not your best day,” Salinas said.

“Not my worst, either,” Spurrier said as we all laughed. “Anyway, when we hit the fifth inning down 7-0, we tried to turn it on to come back. We lost 7-5.”

“Gave it a run,” I said.

“When we got to the end of the season we were 25 and 3,” Spurrier said.

“That’s impressive,” Salinas said. “You didn’t win your league with that?”

“Nope,” Spurrier said. “Grove Valley High had a 25 and 2 record. Their two losses were both to us but since they had a higher winning percentage they got the championship and a playoff berth.”

Salinas looked at me with the scolding look of a father. I couldn’t look at him.

“So anyway,” Spurrier said, “I always keep that in mind when I lose a game like I lost tonight. Makes me realize I have to focus to be the best every night and if I’m tired or whatever I have to fight my hardest.”

“You’ve come a long way, Steve,” Salinas said.

I turned away from the guys and stared at the picture of Tammi. I really wanted to pick up the phone and call her but since she was on call at the shelter tonight I couldn’t bother her.

“I think it’s time the team went back to the basics,” Price’s voice said from Dealba’s radio. “Do the basics because I think they’re all caught up in being major league baseball players.”

“That might be true,” Dickerson said.

”It is true,” I said.

“Did you say something?” Salinas said as he held a finger up to Spurrier.

“Yeah,” I said as I stood up and grabbed a bat from Salinas’ locker. “I asked where the batting cage was.”

[Jason]

April 23, 2007, 1:45pm; Maria’s Coffee House, Detroit, MI
(Detroit is 12-5, 1 game ahead of Minnesota. Stats: .385, 5 HR, 12 RBI)

“You have to understand the kind of career he has,” Heather Merriweather said. “It’s not like he’s going to the office at nine and leaving at five.”

“I know,” Tammi said as she picked up her latte. She took a slow sip while her friend looked out the window at the Detroit skyline.

“This is a really nice place,” Heather said. “I’m glad you chose here because I never get downtown anymore.”

“That’s what happens when you get married!” Tammi said and the women laughed.

On the night that Tammi was brought to “My Sister’s Place”, a battered women’s shelter, Heather was the first person to take her and care for her. Tammi valued Heather’s friendship and wisdom more than anyone else on the planet including her mother. Heather came through the shelter and was now married with two super-charged young boys. Their chances to sit and talk became fewer and further apart.

“You’ll find that out when you get married,” Heather said. “Everything changes but it’s mostly for the better.”

”I thought I was on the fast track to that,” Tammi said quietly.

“What happened, hon?”

Tammi looked at her friend through the tears that started to fill her eyes. She picked up a napkin and dabbed at the corners of her eyes.

“I think maybe he’s not the great guy I thought he was,” Tammi said. “I think maybe he’s like Eric and I was so blinded by the thought of being in love again I couldn’t see it.”

“OK,” Heather said as she put her hands on Tammi’s. “Let’s take a deep breath and think about things for a minute. Tell me what happened that makes you think this.”

“Well,” Tammi said through sobs, “You know how before the season and during the spring we spent our time together? How he would rush off to see me as soon as the practice or game was over?”

“Oh yeah,” Heather said. “I hadn’t seen you smile like that in … well, ever!”

Heather laughed and Tammi was able to manage a small smile at her friend’s attempt at humor.

“Well, right after the season started things started changing,” Tammi said. “He’s turned darker and more distant.”

“That’s not very specific,” Heather said. “Even Bob has times where he seems distant and moody and it can mean everything from a bad day at work to gas.”

Tammi just turned her head and gave Heather a sarcastic smile as a waitress came to refresh their drinks. The women made general small talk until they had a few sips of the fresh java.

“So what did he do?” Heather asked.

“Well, they got back from that road trip at the start of the year,” Tammi said. “I wanted to meet him at the airport but was busy at the shelter and lost track of time. He had to get a ride home from one of his teammates.”

“I could see where he’d be a little mad about that,” Heather said.

“I know,” Tammi said. “It was stupid of me.”

“So he yelled at you or something?”

“Worse.”

“Oh…” Heather said before taking a sip of her mocha cappuccino. “He was quiet about it.”

“I drove to his house and the guy at the gate just let me go in since he knew me,” Tammi said. “I saw his truck and parked behind it and walked in. I started calling his name but he didn’t answer me.”

“Where was he?”

“He had a room built onto the back of his house that had a batting tunnel in it,” Tammi said. “He was in there.”

“I assume he was doing more than hitting baseballs?” Heather asked with a raised eyebrow.

“No,” Tammi said. “That’s just it. He was just hitting ball after ball. I stood there for five minutes and he didn’t even acknowledge I was there.”

“Interesting.”

“It hurt.”

“Then what happened?” Heather asked as she picked up a scone and took a bite.

“He turned around and acted like he was just seeing me,” Tammi said. “But he didn’t run over to kiss me or anything. He just said ‘hi’ and turned around to keep swinging.”

“That’s cold.”

“He said that he was in the middle of a routine of swing reps and that he had to finish it before he could come out of the cage,” Tammi said. “So I sat and waited another ten minutes while he finished up.”

“At least you could watch his cute butt while he was swinging,” Heather said.

“Heather!” Tammi said with mock indignation.

“Well, he does have a cute butt,” Heather replied while talking another bite of scone.

“So he comes out of the cage and throws his bat across the room and starts mumbling things about not keeping his shoulder in during the swing,” Tammi said. “He really threw the bat hard and it slammed off the far wall and left a dent. It reminded me of the times Eric would throw things around the house when he was mad.”

“Well,” Heather said, “If he had been in there for a while he adrenaline had to be built up and if he wasn’t happy that was a way to get the anger out. You weren’t in the path of the bat, right?”

“No, he threw it away from me.”

“So you were just shaken by the violence of it?”

“Yes.”

“That’s understandable,” Heather said. “You were in a vulnerable position, alone in a semi-stranger’s house and he was lashing out in anger. I can see why your brain would start to scream at you.”

“But that’s not the worst of it,” Tammi said. “This entire homestand he’s hardly acknowledged me like he did before the season started.”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, you know how the team had an off-day Thursday?” Tammi asked.

“Yeah,” Heather said. “We went to the day game on Wednesday with the kids.”

“I made reservations for dinner for the two of us,” Tammi said. “Nice and romantic and quiet. I thought we could have one of our deep conversations that are so nice. So I don’t hear from him all day. Finally I get him on the phone at six and he was at the ballpark with a few guys on the team playing in a mock game. He had forgotten all about dinner or so he said.”

“You think he was paying you back for the airport?”

“Eric would.”

“Dale’s not Eric,” Heather said. “And until you understand that you’re going to face these problems.”

“But I had everything lined up and it was all special and he just ignored it,” Tammi said.

“What did he do?”

“Had me to his house for Domino’s and a movie on his plasma TV.”

“So instead of blowing it completely off,” Heather said with a sly smile, “he brought you to his home, provided food and then snuggled on the couch with you during a movie?”

“I guess you could say it that way.”

“Did you pick the movie?”

“Yes.”

“Then don’t worry about this,” Heather said. “It’s the start of a new season and he wasn’t doing well. My guess is he had to refocus and get back to some kind of pattern to his day that matched last year. He’s having trouble figuring out how to work you into it. And remember he’s only twenty years old.”

“I’m only twenty-two.”

“We’re smarter than they are,” Heather said as the women burst into laughter.

“He is playing better,” Tammi said. “But that should make him happy and not angry.”

“They’re leaving after tonight’s game on a road trip, right?” Heather asked.

“Yeah,” Tammi replied. “They get back a week from Wednesday.”

“I have an idea,” Heather said. “Why not rent a limo to pick him up from the airport and you be inside of it naked?”

“We haven’t done anything like that yet,” Tammi said.

“What?” Heather said. “You two haven’t done anything?”

“No,” Tammi said. “He said he wanted to go as slowly as I needed to go to be comfortable. He says he respects my need to go slowly.”

“Girl,” Heather said as she stood up and tossed her napkin on the table, “Marry this guy right now.”

“Could I wear a bikini?” Tammi asked as she stood to join her friend.

“I have a better idea,” Heather said. “Let’s go to the Tigers’ gift shop.”

[mikev]

WOOOOOOHOOOOOOO!

This is one of my favorites. Great chapter.

Oh, and please to be attaching pictures of Tammi waiting inside the limo kthxbye! :boobs

[Jason]

May 3, 2007, 9:03pm; Jacobs Field, Cleveland, OH
(Detroit is 19-6, 4 games ahead of Minnesota. Stats: .356, 6 HR, 18 RBI)

“Welcome back to Jacobs Field where your Detroit Tigers find themselves trailing the Cleveland Indians here in the top of the eighth,” Dan Dickerson said in the old style microphone he cherished. “And we’re about to see what the entire crowd has been waiting for.”

“And the moment that’s likely to give Indians skipper Robertson a reason to grab the Maalox,” Jim Price said.

“If you’re just joining us you picked the best time,” Dickerson said. “The Tigers have been helpless tonight against former teammate Nicolas Kindred. As you might remember, during the offseason the Tigers traded Kindred to the Indians after he had made some unflattering comments in the press.”

“Well, calling the owner an idiot and his teammates greedy scum is a little worse than unflattering,” Price said with a laugh.

“I was being nice,” Dickerson replied between chuckles.

“Kindred wanted out and picked a poor way to do it,” Price said. “The bad part is tonight he’s been backing up what he claimed on the way out the door.”

“Kindred told reporters after the news of the trade that he could easily shut down the Tigers offense,” Dickerson said. “Tonight he’s done exactly that holding the team to four hits over seven innings but he’s in real trouble now.”

“I think right now Kindred’s sorry he called Ellison a ‘snot nosed little piece of crap,’” Price said.

“After a leadoff single to Pauley, we’ve had back to back errors to load the bases with nobody out,” Dickerson said. “And Dale Ellison coming to the plate with the chance to stick it to Kindred and blow the game open.”

“Look at Ellison’s face!”

“That’s almost frightening.”

“That’s one ticked off guy.”

“Ellison’s walking to the plate slowly,” Dickerson said. “He’s allowing the bat to drag on the grass behind him and he’s staring right at Kindred. He’s not looking at the coaches or the umpire. And the crowd is loving it.”

“He’s saying something to Kindred and it looks like Nicky doesn’t like it very much,” Price said.

“I’m sure it’s not friendly chit chat,” Dickerson said. “OK, Ellison’s in the box and we’re ready to see what’s going to happen between this clash of the titans.”

“I say Ellison lines it back up the middle and almost takes Kindred’s head off,” Price said.

“Kindred comes to the stretch and looks at Pauley leading off third base,” Dickerson said. “He looks back toward the plate and here’s the pitch. Low and in the dirt for ball one.”

“That was a horrible pitch,” Price said. “That wasn’t even close to the strike zone and it’s not likely they did that on purpose because Ellison doesn’t chase those kinds of balls.”

“Looks like a mistake because Kindred slapped the ball into his glove hard,” Dickerson said. “He’s back on the rubber and staring ahead at his catcher Laguna. Kindred shakes off one sign. And another. And another. And another!”

“Kindred really wants to throw another fastball,” Price said.

“Looks that way,” Dickerson replied. “OK, Kindred’s got the sign he likes. Here’s the wind and the pitch is in there! No! The ump has called that ball two and Kindred is steamed!”

“Laguna’s on his way to the mound to try and shut Kindred up before he gets tossed out of here,” Price said. “McElroy’s standing behind the plate with his mask still on but Kindred better shut his mouth fast.”

“Laguna’s spun Kindred around and is walking him up the hill,” Dickerson said. “He’s just patted Kindred on the butt and now the catcher’s on the way back to the plate. He’s holding a glove up toward Ellison who just stands there staring at him.”

“Ellison’s in the zone,” Price said. “If Kindred gets near the plate that ball’s going to fly a country mile.”

“We’ll see,” Dickerson said. “Ellison’s set and here comes Kindred from the stretch. Wow! That had a little hot sauce on it.”

“99 miles an hour.”

“And it’s on the corner for strike one,” Dickerson said. “And look at Ellison! He’s smiling!”

“That’s the smirk of someone thinking to himself ‘OK, let’s play,’” Price said.

“The sell out crowd here in Cleveland is on their feet,” Dickerson said. “They may not like Ellison but they know what they’re watching here is two of the best in the game playing cat and mouse.”

“Hopefully the cat with the bat will come out on top,” Price said with a laugh.

“Ellison’s back in the box,” Dickerson said. “Kindred shakes off the first sign and the second. Now he’s got what he likes. A quick glance toward Pauley and here’s the pitch. Fastball outside! That’s ball three!”

“I think Ellison’s gotten into Kindred’s head,” Price said. “He’s nibbling around the edges with these fastballs.”

“I think Ellison agrees,” Dickerson replied. “Look at how he’s standing at the back of the box. He’s almost taunting Kindred to throw something down the plate.”

“He’ll walk him,” Price said. “Ellison’s standing up to him when the pressure’s on and Kindred’s going to wilt like a flower in August.”

“Kindred’s taking a long time getting ready,” Dickerson said. “Ellison’s in the box and Kindred is standing looking at Pauley on third base. If he can’t throw a strike to Ellison this ball game is tied and the bases are going to still be loaded for Will Salinas.”

“Which is good news for Tigers fans,” Price quipped.

“Very good news,” Dickerson said. “OK, Kindred’s in the stretch. Here comes the pitch! Ellison swings! IT’S SLAPPED DOWN THE LEFT FIELD LINE! IT’S OFF THE TOP OF THE WALL!”

“That’s it Dale!” Price yelled.

“Pauley scores! Here comes Coffman! Dealba’s rounding third and he’s not slowing down!”

“Ellison’s headed for second and he’s drawing the throw!” Price yelled.

“Dealba’s going to score without a throw!” Dickerson said. “Here’s the throw to second and it’s way late! Dale Ellison with a three run double and the Tigers lead the Indians three to one!”

“And look at Ellison!” Price said “He’s standing on second base with his hands on his hips looking right at Kindred. I know what that body position is saying to Kindred but I can’t use those words on the radio!”

“I’m sure this won’t be the last time these two lock horns like this,” Dickerson said. “OK, here comes Salinas to the plate. He’s hitless tonight as he steps in to face Kindred. Kindred turns away from Ellison and focuses on the plate. He’s into his motion…AND THERE GOES ELLISON!”

“Oh yeah!” Price yelled.

“The quick throw from Laguna is on target,” Dickerson said. “Here’s the tag…SAFE! Ellison beat the throw!”

“His ninth steal on the season,” Price said. “And look at this! He’s not dusting himself off and he’s not even talking to his third base coach. He’s just standing there staring at Kindred.”

“I think Ellison’s in his head now,” Dickerson said. “Look at how Kindred’s watching him dance away from the bag at third.”

“This could be good for Salinas,” Price said. “Kindred tends to give up easy pitches when he’s shaken.”

“Here’s the 1-0 pitch to Salinas,” Dickerson said. “Lined up the middle and it almost hit Kindred! He’s hit the dirt! The ball’s bounced off the mound and Sanger’s charging in from second to throw out Salinas by a step! Ellison scores and it’s four to one Tigers!”

“Ellison is feeling it now,” Price said. “He’s laughing as he heads toward the dugout.”

“And here comes Robertson,” Dickerson said. “That’s going to be it for Nicholas Kindred.”

“I think it’s safe to say round one of this battle has gone to the good guys,” Price said.

“Yes,” Dickerson replied with a chuckle, “Yes it has.”

[GoCubsAndJays]

Hmmm, I wonder who those broadcasters are cheering for.


Another good chapter DAED. Seems like OOTP just keeps feeding you all these great moments.

[Jason]

May 14, 2007, 11:33am; Jacobs Field, Cleveland, OH
(Detroit is 26-10, 6 games ahead of Cleveland. Stats: .315, 6 HR, 26 RBI)

“I’m telling you there’s nothing wrong with your swing,” Salinas said as I slammed another line drive to the back of the cage. “You’re just not getting the breaks.”

“Gotta be more than that,” I said as I cracked another shot. “Did you see the way my shots are only going to the wall? I’ve lost power somewhere.”

“That’s what happens when you let a woman take your manhood away,” a voice said from the next cage.

“Zip it Dealba,” Salinas said.

“Up yours old man,” Dealba said. “I can say whatever I want whenever I want.”

“He just can’t hit a curve ball,” Darryl Weatherly said as he walked up from the tunnel toward Salinas and I.

“At least I didn’t let a little hurt knee keep me from playing all year,” Dealba snapped back. “Didn’t even get that endorsement from Ben Gay.”

“You little s***,” Weatherly said as he started toward the cage Dealba was in. Salinas put up a hand and held him up. I turned and smacked a few more line drives toward the back of the cage.

A few more of the guys made their way down to the cages for extra batting practice. Most of them really didn’t want to be there but since a few of the older veterans did a few forced sessions of extra hitting we went on a tear where we built an eight game lead. Having lost four of the last six many of the guys are trying to regain the magic of the win streak so they’re going through the motions. No one can say baseball players aren’t superstitious.

“That’s the way a rookie of the year hits!” Dealba yelled as he slammed a hard line drive to the back of the cage.

“Ignore him,” Salinas hissed to me.

”I am,” I said quietly as I hit an equally hard line drive.

“Hey Dale?” Weatherly said suddenly. “When did you open your stance that much?”

“What?” I asked as I turned to face him.

“Your stance is more open than in the past,” Weatherly said. “Probably a good nine inches wider than you used to be.”

I looked down and realized that Weatherly was right. I was surprised that neither Salinas nor I had caught that. I closed my stance and immediately felt a lot more comfortable with my swing.

“That’s it,” Salinas said. “Damn, man, I was wrong. You did have something wrong.”

“I’m glad Weatherly caught it,” I said. “Thanks man.”

“Yeah, thanks!” Dealba snapped. “Now maybe our number three guy can hit over the Mendoza line!”

“OK Cody,” Ty Coffman said. “The guy is still the best hitter on the team.”

“And he’s the first to tell you that,” Dealba said a little too loudly. “It’s not my fault he and Salinas want to pretend they’re the Wonderboys.”

“Just drop it man,” Coffman said as he looked at Salinas. “They’ve been fair to you since the start of the year.”

“So f***ing what?” Dealba said. “I’m sick of everyone kissing their ass like they own the world. I’m a f***ing rookie of the year too and I’ve hit better than him this month. I’m not the one who’s gone eight for his last thirty five and can’t hit one out.”

Weatherly pushed past Salinas who didn’t try to stop him this time.

“Look Dealba,” Weatherly said in a surprisingly even tone, “none of us wanted you here. Croteau was a good friend of many of us.”

“And his batting average is higher than yours right now,” Salinas said quietly as Weatherly turned to give him a look.

“You know damn well we iced you to send a message to the boys upstairs,” Weatherly continued. “We apologized to you once already and when we said you were part of this team we meant it. If you keep up this loudmouth s*** then you’re not going to have our good will much longer.”

Dealba looked at Coffman who pulled his cap over his eyes and slowly walked past Weatherly. Sensing trouble was afoot the rest of the guys followed him up the tunnel toward the clubhouse.

”Chickens***,” Dealba said to Coffman.

“Don’t talk to him,” Weatherly said firmly. “You’re talking to me.”

“No,” Dealba said. “I’m listening to a gimp on the downhill side of his career try to tell me how to behave. I’m no kid, grandpa. I’m smart enough to know that if you knew what you were talking about then you wouldn’t have had to earn your job in spring training. So just crawl back to the other cage and listen to Ellison whine some more about the cheap tart he’s dating.”

Weatherly’s punch caught Dealba square in the nose and dropped him to the floor.

“Nice one,” I said.

“Thanks,” Weatherly said as he looked back at me.

“You’re gonna die,” Dealba said as he sat on the floor holding his nose.

“You don’t disrespect another teammate’s wife or girlfriend,” Weatherly said. “It’s bad enough you don’t respect your teammates but you leave their family out of it.”

Dealba suddenly sprung and caught Weatherly in the stomach with a solid punch. Weatherly bent over and Dealba slammed his knee into Weatherly’s head. Weatherly spun to the floor, recovered and drove into Dealba. Punches and kicks were flying.

“Crap,” Salinas said as he started toward the melee.

“Let them go,” a voice said.

Salinas and I turned to see Ryland standing near the top of the tunnel.

“I’ll tell you when it’s enough,” Ryland said. By now Weatherly had the upper hand and was on top of Dealba smacking him on the sides of the head with an open hand. Leave it to Darryl to remember in the midst of a fight to not leave bruises.

“OK,” Ryland yelled. “That’s enough.”

Weatherly stopped and turned with a fire I hadn’t seen in his eyes all season. He stood up and offered a hand to Dealba who ignored him and stood up.

“I’ve had enough of this s***,” Ryland said with a little too much melodrama. “Now shake hands and end this.”

“Fine,” Weatherly said as he stuck out his hand.

“Screw this,” Dealba said as he started to walk past Ryland, Salinas and I. He never saw my elbow coming and I caught him flush on the forehead. He fell back into the netting of the cage and slumped to the floor stunned.

“That’s for Tammi,” I said, looking at Ryland who didn’t say a word and turned toward the clubhouse.

“I’m hungry,” Salinas said. “Who wants steak?”

“I do!” I said.

“Shouldn’t you call your girlfriend to see if that’s on your diet for today?” Weatherly said with a smile.

“Just for that,” Salinas said pointing a finger, “you’re buying, smartass.”

The three of us walked toward the clubhouse and left Dealba sitting there alone. For a second, I thought I heard him crying.

[Jason]

May 22, 2007, 10:57pm; Comerica Park, Detroit, MI
(Detroit is 32-12, 5 games ahead of Cleveland. Stats: .321, 7 HR, 35 RBI)

“What a great win tonight!” Mike Stone said from the small radio in Weatherly’s locker. “Billy Sparks becomes the majors only ten game winner and looks like he’s going to run away with the Cy Young.”

“We tried to get him on the phone but he’s apparently icing himself,” Clarence Black quipped making both men laugh. “We’ll have to settle for Cody Dealba on line four.”

“Hey Cody!” Stone yelled.

“Hi guys!” Dealba said over the phone. “Hell of a win tonight, eh?”

“Sure was,” Stone said. “And you had a good night at the plate with two hits.”

“I remembered hitting against Williams when I was in San Diego,” Dealba said. “The guy can’t resist throwing that curveball with one strike.”

“You’ve been on fire in the last week or so,” Stone said. “Right after you had that accident in the dugout.”

“I’d rather not discuss that,” Dealba said.

“Damn right you don’t,” Weatherly snapped as he opened his first post game beer.

“Hey,” Black said, “It’s not your fault the bat boy left a bat on the top of the stairs and you didn’t see it.”

“No need to keep blaming him,” Dealba said. “He’s a good kid who made a mistake. Everyone makes them.”

“Where’d the PR guys come up with that?” I asked Salinas.

“I don’t know,” Salinas answered, “but the bat boys were so pissed off they quit.”

“Quiet!” Weatherly said. “I’m listening to the moron.”

“But did it knock something in your head that made you see the ball better?” Stone said with a laugh.

“It’s just interleague play,” Dealba said. “I know these guys and know what they can do so I’m probably a little better prepared than some teammates.”

“Cody,” Black said, “with you being tied for the team league in home runs and leading the team in batting average, some people are suggesting that you need to move up in the order from fifth to third.”

“Sounds like some very smart people,” Dealba said with a laugh.

“A******,” I said.

“So you think you should move up to Ellison’s slot in the order?” Black asked.

“I’m certainly hitting for much more power,” Dealba said. “And I’ve hit over .600 in the last week. You would think the hottest hitter on the team should bat in the first inning to try and make things happen.”

“And you don’t think Ellison makes things happen?” Stone asked with obvious sarcasm.

“Be careful,” Salinas said quietly.

“I’m not going to talk about what Ellison can or can’t do,” Dealba said. “All I can do is keep being the best hitter on the club.”

“Cop out,” Weatherly said between big sips of beer.

“What about Sparks?” Black asked. “How does it feel when you know he’s on the hill?”

“Feels great,” Dealba said. “A true professional right down the line. I think the combination of his veteran experience and my pitch calling is a great combination. He’s the best pitcher in baseball right now and I’m honored to be a part of his transformation.”

“Cody, thanks for being on the show,” Stone said.

“Thanks for having me,” Dealba answered.

“Cody Dealba,” Stone said. “He turned in two hits tonight in the Tigers 4-1 win over Cincinnati.”

“He has been a real force at the plate but he’s no Ellison,” Black said.

“Got that right,” I said.

“Let’s see what the callers think,” Stone said. “John in Windsor. Welcome to the show, eh!”

“Good evening, eh!” the caller said exaggerating the stereotypical Canadian accent.

“What do you think about moving Dealba up in the order and moving Ellison down?” Black asked.

“I’m a big fan of Ellison,” the caller said. “And he doesn’t get many pitches to hit.”

“Great point,” Stone said. “If you look, Ellison’s walked 43 times in 42 games. Dealba’s walked 18 times in 36 games.”

“Now THAT is a smart caller,” Weatherly said as he looked at me. “It’s not your fault they nibble the corners and junior gets pitches across the plate.”

“Hey Weatherly,” I said. “Doesn’t Coffman have a radio in his locker?”

“Yeah,” Weatherly said. “Why?”

“Hand me your cell and then go turn it on,” I said. “I have a phone call to make.”

“OK,” Weatherly said with a smile as he handed me the phone.

“Hello?” Tammi’s voice said.

“Hey sweetie,” I said.

“Hi honey!” she replied with a happy tone. “You did great tonight. That stolen base in the seventh made me hot.”

“I need a favor,” I said.

“But you’re in the locker room,” Tammi purred.

“Are you listening to the sports station?” I asked.

“Yeah,” she said. “I just left it on after the game. Dealba’s a real jerk.”

“Can you call in and say that he blew you off at the stadium when your kid asked for an autograph?” I asked.

Tammi began to laugh.

“Yeah!” she said. “I’ll lay it on real thick.”

“I’ll owe you,” I said.

“In more ways than one,” she purred. “Let me call them.”

I snapped the phone shut and smiled at Salinas who was doing all he could not to laugh. Weatherly came back to us and sat down. Coffman’s locker was right next to Dealba’s so there was no way Dealba couldn’t hear the radio show. Coffman was Dealba’s only real friend on the team so once the smack started running I was counting on him running to grab Dealba.

We watched as Coffman came out of the shower and sat at his locker looking through some letters. Stone and Black took a few callers that picked one side or the other and Coffman made no effort to turn off the radio.

“Hey Clarence,” Stone said through the little speaker, “I have a woman on the line who says that Cody Dealba blew off her child when he asked for an autograph before the game.”

“Really?” Black said. Coffman’s head snapped up and looked at his radio. Weatherly started stabbing himself in the leg with a pen to keep from laughing.

“Let’s put her on,” Stone said. “Annabelle in Detroit, welcome to the show.”

“Hey thanks,” Tammi’s voice said. “I appreciate you letting me tell my story.”

“No problem,” Stone said with obvious glee. “So Dealba blew off your five year old son?”

“Yes,” Tammi said as Coffman jumped from his chair and ran out of the room. “We were at the game tonight and my son was trying to get some autographs.”

“As little kids always want to do,” Black said. “That’s part of the special time of going to a game.”

“Absolutely,” Tammi said as Coffman came back in with Dealba right behind. “I’m no baseball fan but he loves coming to the games to much I can’t say no.”

“So what happened?” Stone said.

“Cody Dealba is less than ten feet away from my son,” Tammi said. “Now Billy, my son, broke his arm on the playground…”

“I’m so sorry,” Black said. “Poor kid.”

“..and it was his throwing arm,” Tammi said pretending to cry. Salinas turned his back to Dealba because he couldn’t keep from laughing. “Dealba tells my son if he wants an autograph he has to throw the ball to him. My son tried to tell him that he had a broken arm and Dealba started taunting him.”

“I DID NOT!” Dealba yelled at the radio. “I DID NOT F***ING DO THAT!”

“So my son throws the ball with his left hand and it doesn’t even get halfway to where Dealba was standing,” Tammi says sounding really heartbroken. “Dealba starts laughing at my son and walks away. My son was in tears.”

“I DIDN’T DO THAT!” Dealba yelled at Coffman. The look on his face was one of pure horror.

“That’s horrible,” Stone said. “There’s no excuse for a major league baseball player to treat a child like that.”

“I know,” Tammi said quietly.

“Is your son OK?” Black asked. “We have some tickets to tomorrow night’s game and we’d love to have you go as our guest.”

“He’s OK because a few of the other Tigers came over and were wonderful to him,” Tammi said.

“Well,” Stone said, “Let’s bring the good in with the bad. Who were the guys who did the right thing?”

“Dale Ellison and Will Salinas,” Tammi said. “Those guys came over and not only took the time to sign the ball and Billy’s cast but they stood there and talked to him for about ten minutes. My son felt like Santa Claus had just given him every toy in the world.”

“Damn,” Weatherly said, “she’s good.”

“Tell me about it,” I said.

“BUT I DIDN’T DO…” Dealba said and then fell silent as his body went rigid as he realized what was happening to him. He turned toward where Salinas, Weatherly and I were standing and I just smiled. His face turned into a look of rage and he flipped us the finger as he went storming out of the locker room and into Ryland’s office. Coffman watched Dealba storm off and then slowly walked over to us.

“Um,” Coffman said as he looked toward the carpet, “I’m still on your good side, right?”

“Oh yeah,” Weatherly said. “You’re not the one shooting your mouth off in the press.”

“Good,” Coffman said as he looked up at me. “Next time let me know and I’ll make sure he’s in the room before it all starts.”

“Consider it done,” I said as I shook his hand.

[mikev]

Hilarious.

[Faroo6]

This has got to be my favorite dynasty on here.

[orin2]

Great work. I always look forward to the updates. Thank you.

[Jason]

Thank you for the compliments guys. I hope you'll like this one and where the story's about to go. Before I'm asked, I had simmed ahead so I knew something was coming for a little while.


June 1, 2007, 8:11am, Northville, MI
(Detroit is 37-14, 6 games ahead of Chicago. Stats: .309, 8 HR, 39 RBI)

“I know Dad,” I said into the phone. “It was a lot worse in person.”

“I still can’t believe that Torres would do that,” Dad replied.

“If you can’t play well,” I said, “Play aggressively.”

We both sat silently as ESPN replayed the clip of last night’s game. In the top of the seventh inning the game was tied at one. Felix Torres, the backup third baseman, was trying to score from second on a shallow fly ball to right. The throw from Alustiza went to second and Dealba was standing just in front of the plate with his glove at his side. Torres slammed right into Dealba at full speed catching Dealba completely off guard. As Dealba rolled on the ground, visibly hurt, Torres went over and stood on home plate looking down on him like a heavyweight boxer in the ring over a fallen opponent.

The benches emptied but Torres’ teammates were able to get him off the field before anything could happen. We tied the game and then won it in the fifteenth on a three run home run from Alustiza. Dealba didn’t see it because he was taken to the hospital where they diagnosed a torn labrum. He’s on the shelf for the season.

“So what are you guys going to do about it?” Dad asked.

“Nothing today,” I said. “They’ll have him on the bench and they’ll be watching for something.”

“But you will?” Dad asked.

“Always.”

“Even though you hate him?”

“I don’t hate him,” I said. “He’s just not on my Christmas card list.”

Dad laughed the deep laugh that meant he actually thought the joke was funny.

“That list doesn’t seem to grow very fast,” Dad said.

“Shut up old man!” I said between laughs. “At least my list isn’t going down because everyone’s dying.”

After another minute of laughter and lighthearted insults, I hung up and watched more of ESPN’s coverage of the debacle from last night.

“How’s dad?” Tammi said as she put her hand on my shoulder.

“Fine,” I said as I spun around to face her. I hadn’t heard her approach. Her complete lack of clothing likely had something to do with her ability to be really quiet.

“You coming back to bed?” she purred.

“Yes,” I said in my best impression of Finch from American Pie. “Yes I am.”

She turned and did her best seductive walk toward the bedroom. I slammed the remainder of my orange juice and quickly made my way to the bedroom. I reached the doorway to find her on the bed in a very provocative position.

“Hi there,” she purred. “You like?”

I smiled and started into the room as the phone began to ring. Instinctively, I stopped and looked back the hall to where I had left the cordless phone.

“You’re not answering that I hope,” Tammi said with a distinct pout on her face.

“Oh no,” I said. “Sorry. Habit.”

“I know,” she said as she slowly crawled to the edge of the bed. “I do it too. Now get over here and kiss me.”

I made my way to the bed and laid down next to her. I placed my hands on the side of her beautiful face and pulled her in for a kiss. I closed my eyes.

“Mr. Ellison?” a woman’s voice said with a Hispanic accent from my answering machine down the hall. I didn’t get my kiss.

“Mr. Ellison,” the voice continued, “I’m sorry if this woke you up. My name is Maria Dealba and I’m Cody’s wife.”

“Why is she calling you?” Tammi asked.

“I have no idea,” I said, “But now I have a Dealba bothering me at work and at home.”

“I know you and Cody haven’t exactly been friends,” Maria Dealba continued, “But I would like to ask you for a favor.”

“Shoot her husband like you would a horse that’s gone lame?” Tammi whispered as we both laughed.

“Cody is having surgery today at 4,” Maria said. “He would like to talk to you and Will Salinas before he has the procedure. We had a long talk last night and Cody doesn’t want to wait to say some things to you.”

She left her phone number as I stared directly at the wrinkled sheets.

“So if we continued with what we were doing,” Tammi said with obvious sarcasm, “I suppose you’ll be thinking of Salinas.”

“No,” I said. “He’s much too hairy for my tastes.”

“Go call him,” Tammi said as she slapped my butt and hopped from the bed. “Just remember the hot water only lasts about fifteen minutes and the clock is running.”

“He better not argue with me,” I said as I jumped from the bed and headed for the door.

[Faroo6]

great again.

[Faroo6]

dola after almost two weeks.

This thing needs another great chapter.

[arodandjeter]

An update coming soon I hope.

[Faroo6]

I miss Dale

[Football23]

Damn man where'd he go? This was looking good

[Jason]

June 1, 2007, 11:15am, Detroit, MI
(Detroit is 37-14, 6 games ahead of Chicago. Stats: .309, 8 HR, 39 RBI)

“This better be good,” Salinas said as we stepped from his car and made our way toward the front entrance of Henry Ford Hospital. “This is going to completely throw off my game day routine and by the time we get to the clubhouse all the burritos are going to be gone.”

“Tell me about it,” I said. “If I don’t gas up before the game, I’m in trouble.”

Salinas shot me a sarcastic smile as we turned the corner to approach the front entrance of the hospital. It didn’t take five seconds for a camera crew to spot us and suddenly we were pushing through the media.

“Dale!” a voice yelled. “Will! What do you think of what happened to Dealba?”

“I think he got taken out by a crap play,” I said into one of the microphones shoved in my face as I walked.

“Are you going to get revenge?” another voice called.

“We’re going to play to win,” Salinas said. “The best revenge we can have is to win tonight’s game and all the other games against Minnesota.”

“Are you really upset about this or are you quietly happy because you hate Dealba?” a voice said. Salinas and I stopped dead in our tracks as we recognized the voice.

“I don’t believe it,” Salinas said as we turned to see the face of the ex-Toledo Blade reporter we had fired for making up stories about me.

“Good to see you landed on your feet,” I said. “What newspaper doesn’t care if their reporter doesn’t have a track record of accurate and truthful information?”

Several of the television reporters chuckled while Salinas just smiled.

“I’m working freelance,” the reporter answered. “I’m going to bring out the truth even if I have to stand alone to do it.”

“And I’m sure that will be the case,” I said as I turned and started to walk away.

“So why not really tell us how you feel about Dealba’s injury?” the reporter yelled. “You hated him. Will you admit you think the clubhouse will be better without him?”

“All right,” I said with irritation. Salinas put his hand on my shoulder and shook his head. I shot him a quick smile and turned back to the reporter.

“Well?” he asked.

“You know something?” I said. “I never even got your name. Guess I didn’t think it was important at the time.”

The other reporters again laughed at their overzealous colleague.

“Bill,” the reporter said flatly. “Bill Davalos.”

“Well, Billy,” I said, “If you want the quote of the day in response to your question, here it is.”

Microphones appeared from everywhere.

“Cody Dealba is our teammate,” I said while not taking my eyes off Davalos. “Every day we go to the field to win or lose with our teammates. When one is taken out in this way it hurts the entire team. We’re never happy when a part of us gets treated the way Dealba was treated. Have a nice day.”

I spun and walked into the lobby with the reporters shouting questions to my back. Salinas was walking beside me with a curious smile on his face.

“What?” I said as I looked at him and tried to stifle a smile.

“That was diplomatic, calm and exactly what our team’s PR department would want you to say,” Salinas said. “Who the hell are you and what have you done with Dale?”

“I can’t wait to see how he tries to file a story,” I said. “If anyone will print it, that is.”

“Why?”

“Because everyone out there got my quote as I said it,” I said. “There’s no way he can spin it to say I hate Dealba.”

“That’s good,” Salinas said.

“At least we know that idiot’s back on the scene,” I said.

“The team won’t give him access,” Salinas said as the elevator door opened and we walked in. A very surprised looking young nurse stepped to the side of the elevator and stood silently with eyes wide.

“I know,” I said. “Hopefully he’ll get a job somewhere that he’ll fit right in. Like working for Bobby Cash’s website.”

Salinas and I laughed all the way to the fifth floor. The doors opened and a slightly overweight Hispanic woman was sitting on a chair across the lobby.

“Mr. Salinas and Mr. Ellison?” she asked as she got up.

“Yes,” Salinas said as we walked and met her halfway across the lobby.

“I’m Maria Dealba,” she said. “Thank you for coming so quickly.”

She escorted us to the end of a hallway past some security guards into a private room. Dealba was laying in a bed reading a copy of Sports Weekly with the TV on ESPN.

“I wouldn’t think you’d want to keep watching that,” I said.

“I’m going to get it on DVD,” Dealba said. “I’ll watch it while I’m rehabbing.”

“I’ve done worse,” Salinas said as he stood at the foot of Dealba’s bed. I leaned on the doorway and looked in.

“I bet you wonder why I asked for you,” Dealba said.

“Crossed our minds,” I said.

“I know we haven’t gotten along,” Dealba said. “But you’re the leaders of this team and I have a favor to ask of you.”

“What?” Salinas said.

“Don’t retaliate,” Dealba said.

“Excuse me?” Salinas said.

“I don’t want you to do anything to Torres for what he did,” Dealba said. “I know that it’s baseball code to get a guy back for something like that but I just can’t allow it to happen. I have very strong religious beliefs and I want to turn the other cheek here.”

“I don’t know if the guys will go for that,” I said.

“Then you need to make them!” Dealba said. “This is very, very important to me. If I find out someone got back at Torres for this then I don’t know how I’ll be able to live with it. This was an accident and we need to forgive and move on.”

I looked to Maria Dealba. She was standing at the window looking outside at the noon sun.

“I’ll try,” Salinas said. “If this is what you really want.”

“It is,” Dealba said. “Promise me you’ll do it. If you and Dale tell the guys not to get back at Torres then they won’t do it. We’ll take the high road on all of this and be bigger men for it.”

“Is that all you need?” I said with obvious irritation. It was all I could do not to turn and walk away. Salinas shot me a hard look and I turned back toward Maria Dealba who continued to just stare out the window.

“Dale,” Dealba said. “Dale.”

I turned and looked at him.

“I’m sorry for all I’ve done,” Dealba said. “I’ve been an ass to you and made your life hell. I am truly sorry and from here on out I’m going to do all I can to be the best teammate you’ve ever had.”

Salinas looked at me and it felt like my father’s glare.

“I’m sorry too,” I said. “We need to leave if we’re going to get to the park on time.”

“Thanks for coming down,” Dealba said. “I’ll be watching the game tonight right here.”

Salinas and I said a farewell to Maria Dealba but she didn’t respond. We walked all the way to Salinas’ car silently.

“Well?” Salinas said.

“I don’t like him,” I said. “Not getting back at Torres for him wouldn’t be hard.”

“None of the other guys would do it if it wasn’t for our code,” Salinas said.

“Let’s just do it,” I said. “Who cares if it would make him happy as well.”

“Ok,” Salinas said.

________________________________________

“He said that?” Cody Dealba said into the cell phone he had hidden under the bed covers. “He’ll say anything to cover it up.”

Dealba shifted on the bed as he listened to the voice on the phone.

“Well, I told them that they shouldn’t hurt him like he hurt me but it would nice to see that the team really cared about what happened to me,” Dealba said. “Ellison said that I should be lucky he’s telling the press that he cares. I’m telling you that nothing is going to be done about it. They’re going to show in their actions the kind of selfish, horrible teammates they really are.”

Maria Dealba turned from the window and looked at her husband. She shook her head in disgust and turned back to the window.

“Watch their actions,” Dealba said. “You’ll see it’s true soon enough. And you have me as a source but don’t reveal you’re getting this information from me. It’s hard enough to deal with them let alone being known as the guy who brought the truth out about them. Good luck, Mr. Davalos. Let me know if I can help more.”

Dealba slapped the phone shut and tossed it on the chair next to his wife.

“What’s your problem?” he said to her.

“You know what my problem is,” she replied without looking at him.

“Then you’ll just have to get over it,” Dealba said. “Or better yet, just go to confession and pretend like you really feel guilty about this.”

“I do feel guilty, Cody,” she said. “These men have done nothing to you to deserve this.”

“Oh shut up,” Dealba replied. “Sometimes you’re so worthless and weak.”

“Sure, Cody,” Maria Dealba said as the sun warmed the tears running down her cheeks. “Whatever you say.”