SHORT HOP - My Career In Baseball by David Driscoll

[laxman2789]

I was mulling over who could play Davey and I was thinking that kid from cruel intentions so I went to look him up. His name is Ryan Phillipe, and is what I picture Davey to be. His interaction with girls in the movie mimics Dave's when he first met Gwen, and he is short and somewhat skinny and pretty jacked too. I found a few picks of him, and some with his shirt off where he looks athletic but to protect the heterosexuality of this board opted to not post lol. However I think he would be a good selection.

and o yeah, good **** man. I love your writing.

[Tib]

Now that I've figured out how to post pics, here are a few. These are the pictures I had in my head when I wrote. I hope they're close to what you imagined.

[Tib]

And here's some pics from Dave's days in Hinesville:

[Tib]

And some more:

[Tib]

And the last of them:

[UngratefulDead]

Very cool, all of those are quite close to what I had in my mind. It made me wonder, where, in a written book, would these appear? I was thinking a scrapbook section, or a collage?

[Tib]

Usually in autobiographies or biographies there is a photo section somewhere in the middle of the book. It can be as few as 3-4 pages or as many as 16-24. Sometimes in long works there are two or three photo sections. I think this is about the right spot for Dave to have one.

[Jazzmosis]

I expected the Hinesville owner to be thinner and with glasses, and for Yoogie to be more oriental looking...

Other than that.. pretty much right on. Especially Moose.

Although.. what did Keith Hart look like?

[Tib]

Originally Posted by Jazzmosis

Although.. what did Keith Hart look like?

Something like this:

[Tib]

Welcome to another edition of SHORT HOP. Many thanks for all the positive comments. I'm very glad everyone's enjoying what will probably be the longest dynasty ever written! I'm especially pleased that Dave's story has inspired some to start stories of their own. Good luck. I'll be reading. And you know, at the very least, committing to these stories will only make you better writers.

This chapter sees Dave make his way to Mexico for the winter session. It'll be a two-parter, but since I'm so far ahead I'll post the second part in mid-week. Thanks again and Viva, Mexico!

[Tib]

CHAPTER 16:

"Dabeed Drisco" y La Liga Nueva

With the Admirals’ championship October was over. November arrived quietly, like a cat coming in for the night. The off-season was upon me and I was still in A ball. I began to wonder if I was ever going to get out.

From: Dave Driscoll (ddriscoll@CBPA.org)
Sent: November 3, 2004 7:11AM
To: Don Driscoll (dondriscoll@familynet.com)

Subject:

Dear Dad,
First, thanks for the call the other day. It was good to talk. Gwen says hi. She really enjoyed meeting you guys, even if it was only on the phone. I hope we can get to Mount Rose sometime before next season – I haven’t seen you in a year. Maybe during Gwen’s Christmas break. We’re not sure. She says she wants to spend some time with her family in Michigan. I was supposed to go on that trip, but Kellinger wants me to play winter ball in Mexico. I’m not sure I want to go. I’ve been to Tijuana before and if all Mexico is like that I should lock myself in a bank vault for five months. I don’t really want to spend Christmas in Mexico. I’ve been up since 4:00 thinking about it.

La Liga Nueva is the Mexican equivalent of rookie league. Romeo says I should go, that it would be good for me. Keep my skills sharp. Meet new people. Have experiences. I told him I didn’t think Montezuma’s Revenge is a good experience for anybody. He said it’s not like that. He said it’s rough, the facilities aren’t exactly up even to A ball standards, but he says he played in La Liga when he was starting and learned a lot. I don’t know. I’m having some very good experiences right here in Little Rock.

Gwen and I are really getting close. It’s happening fast, too. We don’t even know what to do about it. I’ve never hit it off so perfectly with someone before and neither has she. The truth is I don’t want to be away from her. We connect like you can’t believe. Her being a softball player helps, that’s for sure. I get the sense that she really knows what I’m saying when I talk baseball. She definitely has her own opinions about the game.

She’s looking forward to next season. She should be the starting center fielder this year. I looked it up and she hit .324 last season. Not bad. Before you get worried, we both know it’s dangerous to get involved so fast with someone. It scares us too, believe me. We’re taking it easy, trying to do our own things, but I’m not doing anything except working out and thinking of her. She’s had bad relationships before, with baseball players of course, so she was a little guarded about dating me. Well, guarded isn’t the word. DefCon5 comes to mind… But after that first night at Eddie’s – it was like I passed some kind of test.

Hal wanted me to look at agents. I did go over the list he sent me, but my heart wasn’t in it. Any agent wants something to represent. So far all I’ve done is play well with the leather, with occasional hitting streaks. I don’t see why anyone would want to add me to their stable. I never called anybody. Maybe that was a bad choice. I think you’re right that I still have a little time. Plus, I want to choose someone who’s really going to help me, not just himself.

Anyway, got to run. Gwen and I are going to work out this morning. Take care. Love to Mom and Jan.

Dave



From: Don Driscoll (dondriscoll@familynet.com)
Sent: November 3, 2004 12:06PM
To: Dave Driscoll (ddriscoll@CBPA.org)

Subject:

Dear David,
You should consider Mexico. I played there in La Liga Nortena after my first season at Pepperdine and had a great time. If you’re smart about it, it could be very good for you. Do what you want, but it’s only two months. Gwen will be there when you get back. And Dave, they have Christmas break in Mexico, too. You’d be able to come up and visit for a couple of days. Your mother would be beside herself to have you home. Besides, it could be a way of showing KC you’re willing to do extra work. It seems to have helped Lino Lopez.

Glad about Gwen. She seems like a nice girl. More importantly, your mother likes her and your Mom has excellent instincts. Jan likes her too, which should tell you something. By the way, Jan was named all-CIF again, so we’re going to be doing some traveling to some colleges who have offered scholarships. Not that I’m biased, but one is a certain university in west LA who just won their third national championship in a row…

Take care and let me know what you’re going to do. Also, tell Romeo I used to watch him play and thought he was very good.

Dad


On November 10th I kissed Gwen goodbye and got on a bus to Mexico with several other Hounds (one of whom was Mark Pridgen), a few Abilene Outlaws, a couple of Tulsa Oil Riggers and one lonely Peoria Panther.
“It looks like you’re visiting your parents by yourself,” I said.
“Won’t be the first time,” she replied. “Don’t come home with anything contagious.”
“You mean like a winning attitude?”
I wasn’t going to see her again for more than two months and at the time it seemed like an eternity. As it turned out, winter in Mexican ball is even longer than that.

The bus ride from Arkansas to Mexico City was pleasant, if you like sweating and bouncing. We stopped only twice, once in San Antonio and once in Saltillo, 370 miles north of Mexico City. Red, our driver, was an older black man, a little younger than Cliff. He weighed about 350 pounds. He had sweat stains the size of dinner plates under his armpits and smoked the fattest cigars I had ever seen. He said his name wasn’t really Red; people just called him that because he was Irish. Red was one of those guys who absolutely didn’t give the ass of a rat what you thought of him, his bus, the world, or anything else. He was a friendly guy, he just didn’t like people.

At the border we were stopped by Mexican customs. They were very nice to us, asking who we were playing for and where we were from. Red gave them a couple of cigars and we were on our way without being searched, but not before I overheard there were several buses coming through with players for La Liga Nueva. One of the buses was from Florida.

Somewhere just south of the Mexican border Chad Brinley, the lone Panther, broke out a deck of cards and we gambled for a few hours. I lost early and was reading a book when one of the Outlaws sits next to me.
“You’re Driscoll, right?”
“Right.”
He extended his hand. “I’m Marcus Barrows.”
“Good to meet you,” I said. “I’ve heard of you.”
“Yeah. I’m the name right beneath yours in Baseball Insider. I’ve been chasing your numbers for two years. You’re tough to catch.”
“Thanks. You’re good too, man.”
“I’ll be playing for Toluca. Who are you playing for?”
“Puebla.”
“Okay. Great. Well good luck.”
“You too.”
Nice guy, I thought.

South of Sotillo somebody gets the bright idea we should start mooning people. Haven’t these goofballs ever been to Mexico? I thought. Culpepper, Brown and Hanson had their asses out the window for forty minutes before anybody saw them. When Red finally noticed, he yelled back: “Any of you girls ever been in a Mexican jail?” The Three Amigos put their pants back on.

Our bus eventually dropped everyone off at their appropriate town and climbed up to Puebla, the last stop on our whirlwind tour of Mexico. Red dropped the five of us off at a little storefront. Even though we had been sitting for hours we were exhausted. All I wanted to do was crawl into bed and go to sleep, but Red told us we had a meeting with our manager at the field.
“What’s this?” asked Bruce Boucher, our left fielder.
“This,” said Red with a grand sweep of his arm, “is the glorious headquarters of Equipo Puebla. Go inside. Tell Rosa you’re here, and she’ll tell you what to do.”
“This?” I said. “This looks like a bar.”
“It is a bar.”
“Who’s Rosa?”
“Just go the hell in.”
What the hell am I doing here?

Rosa was very nice. She was the team secretary and head bartender. She welcomed us and told us a little about the team. It seemed the owner, Senor Texatla (pronounced “Tay-HOT-la”) was both a businessman and a baseball fan. Apparently, he bought the team only to boost beer sales. Wouldn’t have been the first time. She said we were to report to the field for a team meeting after we checked into the dorm.
“Dorm?” I asked.
“Yes,” she replied. “All the players stay together in one of the old army barracks upstairs.”
“Everyone together?”
“Yes. Two showers, two toilets and 44 beds and lockers. It’s very nice.”
“Two toilets?”
“Yes.”
“And two showers?”
“Yes.”
“For forty-four guys?”
I looked to the others for some sign that they were grasping this, too.
“God damn, I love Mexico,” said Derek Sousa.

The “dorm”, as Rosa so lovingly but inaccurately put it, was a barracks alright. One that looked like it was used during the Mexican Revolution 200 years ago. The walls were a sickening ancient yellow color, like mustard gone bad. The plaster was loose in places, revealing the dun-colored brick beneath. The freezing stone floor was pockmarked and uneven. There was no ventilation, sporadic electricity, and only two large dark-paned windows to let in sunlight. The rats were large and spoke both English and Spanish. Flushing the toilet was like playing the slots in Vegas: pull the handle and hope. And Rosa was wrong; there were only 22 beds. Bunk beds. They were rusty metal-framed contraptions that used to be blue. Now they were 22 creaky, wobbly, gray experiments with 44 stale-smelling vinyl mattresses attached. This is where I was to live for the next 60 plus days.
I could be home in bed with a beautiful girl, I thought. What the hell am I doing in Mexico?

Part Two will be coming to a computer near you on Wednesday.

[gbmoore121]

Another great Saturday....Thank you.

[jaxmagicman]

Sweet, a mid-week treat. I had rats once that were bilengal.

[UngratefulDead]

Always great, that rat comment was hilarious, dry humor.

[cknox0723]

Originally Posted by Tib

Chapter 16: Red was one of those guys who absolutely didn’t give the ass of a rat what you thought of him, his bus, the world, or anything else. He was a friendly guy, he just didn’t like people.

Enjoyed this chapter a lot. I've got the feeling Marcus Barrows is going to steal Davey's glove, or short-sheet his bed, or something. Just a hunch.

[Tib]

Originally Posted by cknox0723

I've got the feeling Marcus Barrows is going to steal Davey's glove, or short-sheet his bed, or something.

It's going to be worse than that.

[cknox0723]

Worse than this?

[Tib]

If you mean worse than the movie was bad, then no. If you mean worse than what Mark Wahlberg does to Reese's friend, no again. It happens a lot later anyway, not in Mexico. There's a clue earlier in the story...

[cknox0723]

Originally Posted by Tib

Chapter 12: <i>Business As Usual</i>, Part Two
The naked woman ashtray from Mesa, Arizona had been replaced by a naked woman ashtray from Savannah, Georgia.

He's going to hit him over the head with a naked woman ashtray from Saltillo, Mexico?

[Tib]

No, no. Have you ever seen a naked woman ashtray from Saltillo, Mexico? You could kill a guy.