Austin James: Playing for His Life

[GForce]

His social security card and birth certificate were the breast pocket of his Varsity jacket. He had his ID with him, medical papers and a host of other paperwork his father collected for him that he may not even need. Just in case.

"You want me to drive you," his mother asked. "Or maybe your father?"

Austin shook his head. "I'm gonna walk it," he said. He didn't need to be there for an hour, and he just needed some time. Time to think, time to prepare...time to escape.

He had thought about it often the past week. Just run away. Wait it out. The war couldn't go on indefinitely.

There was a rail yard that ran through Levittown. The town itself didn't have a stop, but others were nearby, within 2 miles in either direction. He could be in Manhattan by 2 p.m., catch a ferry over to New Jersey and hitch a ride somewhere. Anywhere.

It was nonsense, and he knew it. He'd never do it to his family in a million years. He was going to have to just do it. This was his fate. And it was time to accept that.

He left the house and spent his 40 minute walk alternating between looking down at the ground and up at the sky, most often as a plane went overhead, something he had taken to doing since the lottery. It was silly, he knew. Vietnam wasn't Japan, and they weren't coming here to bomb us. Still, for whatever reason, the planes triggered the reflex to watch.

He walked past the high school where he had become local legend. They even retired his uniform number, the third in the school's history. He walked through the gate, around the backstop and out to the mound. There, he sat. Today would be the end of this chapter of his young life. His big league dreams would forever be only that.

He arrived at the small grey building 5 minutes early. There were already several people inside, many more would come in the next few minutes. Levittown was one a 3 centers on Long Island, so people from surrounding towns were convening here as well.

He leaned back against the wall, squinting at the sun. With a deep sigh, he went in, grabbed a seat, and waited for the officer to call out his name.

In slick, perfectly ironed beige uniform, a young man stood with a clipboard in hand. The setup was like a doctor's office, sliding glass window panes separated the back office from the waiting area. He stood next to the open door, immune to the looks of dread from those around him.

"There are 33 of you on the docket," he barked to the crowd. "When your name is called, please have all paperwork ready for us. You will register today, be given a physical and another number. This will be your military ID number, and be what you use for military purposes from this day forward, including your orders on where to report."

Suddenly, it got very, very real.

Three hours later, it was a cruel joke. Austin was one of two left in the waiting room. For the past 10 minutes, three officers were huddled in the back area of the office, behind the glass. Then one walked to the door, opened it and called out.

"Simmons!" The young man across the aisle, looking gaunt and dramatically afraid, slunk into the back.

Just get it over with

The other two officers were still behind the glass, flipping through papers on a clipboard and sifting through a pile of cards. One slid the window open to one side.

"Come here," the older officer barked.

Austin walked to the counter as the door into the building squeaked behind him.

"What's your name, son," the officer asked.

"James, sir. Austin James."

"Where do you live?"

"Hicksville, sir."

Austin paused. "Is there a problem?"

The officer didn't respond. He flipped through some papers and picked up the phone.

"Yes, I'm checking to see if you have a name on your docket. James, Austin."

Austin drummed his fingers on the counter, which the officer seemed not to appreciate. But Austin didn't appreciate this being drawn out any further than it needed to be. And if he had to head out to Mineola, the next closest Selective Service center, he was not going to be happy.

"OK, thank you," the officer said into the phone. He looked up at Austin.

"There seems to have been a mistake," the officer said. "I need you to fill this out."

Exasperated, Austin grabbed a pen and the form the officer handed him. Then, a firm hand grabbed his, engulfing both it and the pen.

"C'mon, son," his father said. "We're going home."

The officer rose from behind the desk. "Excuse me! Where do you think you're going?" He stormed out from behind the desk into the waiting room.

Austin's father stepped between him and the officer.

"Is his name on the docket?"

"No, but..."

"NO BUTS!," his father barked.

"You can't pull him out of here on a clerical error," the officer shot back. "He has an obligation."

Austin's father stepped forward, nose to nose with the officer.

"Don't you DARE tell me about obligation, kid," he snapped. "I've defended this country, long before you were shuffling paper clips. And if his name isn't on your docket, then he's free to go. And that's what we're going to do."

"Listen here," the officer yelled. "You can't..."

"I'm his FATHER," Philip James fired back. "I outrank you."

With that, Austin's father shielded him out the door and into the car. The officer, shockingly to Austin, didn't follow. He looked at his father with a dazed expression.

"They're GOING to come for me, Dad," he said.

"I know," he replied, speeding away. "So we need to act fast."

GH

[goroyals]

Wow. Excellent stuff so far.

[TexasLonghorns]

wow this is one of the greatest things I have read.

[The Funk]

Fantastic, fantastic read. I really don't know what's going to happen and I can't wait to find out!

[kenyan_cheena]

This is just brilliant, GForce. Reading it has inspired me to try even harder to bring the realism into my TBCB Heavyweight Boxing Federation thread.

Excellent stuff.

k_c

[Tib]

"They're GOING to come for me, Dad," he said.

"I know," he replied, speeding away. "So we need to act fast."

Drama. Tension. Suspense. Very nice.

[GForce]

"This one looks interesting, Dad."

"Take it. You're a great writer."

Austin jotted down the course number.

"How many do I need to take?" he asked.

"Full time is 12 credits. Four classes." his dad replied.

Austin needed one more. He had signed up for a statistics course, an English course and a journalism focus course. Had he intended on staying for 4 years, he would've taken all required classes, but since he was figuring he'd be out soon, via one draft or another, he was going to take classes he liked.

"Anatomy...I love that stuff."

With that, Austin wrote the last course number on his sheet and brought it to the administration desk. The middle-aged woman behind the desk had to make a couple of calls. Austin was asked for his social security card and some other personal information. Nobody asked about his draft status, just as his father said.

"Not their problem," he reasoned. "As long as I pay tuiton, they couldn't care less what you do." He was right.

Paying for it was something Philip didn't even think about. Marge was set in a good teaching position. His construction outfit was well-regarded on the Island, and business was never dead, even if it slowed. And if he had to, he would've taken a second job. Whatever it took.

"Glad to have you with us, Austin," the woman said warmly. "Welcome to St. John's."

And with that, Austin was now a registered student with full-time status at St. John's University. That could get him a deferment until at least the end of the semester in May, unless the military held that his date was called when it was called regardless of misplaced paperwork. He knew he should be preparing for boot camp, and the military knew it, too. If they tried to withhold a deferment, they would have a good case.

But Philip's thought was, with all the national backlash against this war, if he put up a fight about this, made it public if the military tried to force Austin in, threw as many legal obstacles in the way as he could, it would be an unsavory position for the military to be in. At least that was part of the thought.

Philip knew the military well enough to know a few things. One, Austin was right...they WOULD ultimately come for him. But he also knew that, by the time whatever the clerical error was was straightened out, he and Austin would likely have a couple of weeks before they were contacted. If he was lucky, it would take up to a month.

He needed two weeks. Two weeks to get Austin into classes. Two weeks to talk with attorneys, get a plan set up for when they come for his son. Two weeks to call the scouts who were interested, and tell them Austin's back in the game. But in the back of his head, one thought wouldn't leave.

Nobody's gonna touch this with a 10-foot pole

"So what now," Austin asked.

"Home," his dad replied. "Got some calls to make."

GH

[Jestor]

You've got an amazing story going here, GForce. Excellent development of character and story, and amazing use of dialogue and pacing.

[messenjah]

Incredible, just incredible. You gonna make this into a novel after you're done with it, cause it's pretty awesome.

[GForce]

Thanks for the kind words.

Hope I can keep your interest.

GH

[The Funk]

Originally Posted by GForce

Thanks for the kind words.

Hope I can keep your interest.

GH

I don't think you'll have any problems with that. It is lucky for you however, that the player you decided to follow was born on one of the days picked for the draft. The story wouldn't have been nearly so gripping if the person you picked had missed it. Great stuff again!

[Jamee999]

Originally Posted by The Funk

. It is lucky for you however, that the player you decided to follow was born on one of the days picked for the draft. The story wouldn't have been nearly so gripping if the person you picked had missed it. Great stuff again!

[Tib]

The best part so far is that the situation and relationships are compelling and no baseball has been played.

[GForce]

Philip James paced the living room as Austin, clad in ripped jeans and an oversized sweatshirt, looked on.

"I understand that, sir," Philip said. "I am not asking for a guarantee...yes, I know it's a tough position to put you in..."

Austin could hear only one side of the conversation, but it was clear it was not going well. It was his father's fourth of the afternoon. The Pirates and Red Sox flat out said they would pass on him. The Phillies scouting director said he had other business to attend to but would keep Austin in mind, but his father hardly seemed convinced.

Here, on the line, was the farm director of the Chicago Cubs. Given his squad's collapse that summer, Austin hoped his father wouldn't bring up that he was a Mets fan.

"That isn't your problem, sir, and I'm not trying..."

His father paused.

"He doesn't deserve this. You'll be passing on a great arm and a great, great kid. Yeah...good luck to you too..."

And with that he hung up.

"Ya sonuvabitch!"

Austin hung his head. He didn't want his father to see him looking so dejected. He was trying so hard for him to have his dream, just a chance. He couldn't have done more.

An exasperated Philip stormed into the kitchen and grabbed a notepad, dialing furiously again.

"Yes, this is Philip James, looking for John Sloan, please...yes, we met back in August, he scouted my son, Austin."

Austin got off the stairs and walked measuredly through the living room.

"John, Philip James. Yes. Thanks, it's nice to hear from you, too."

Sloan was the assistant scouting director for the Kansas City Royals. The 1969 season was the franchise's first, and marked the farthest reach for Austin's scouting travels that summer.

Sloan was a young man charged with helping build the young franchise into a winner. And he was visibly interested in Austin, especially his eagerness to travel wherever he needed to get his name out.

For the next 30 minutes, Austin sat and listened as his father detailed the recent events to Sloan. Philip wasn't hiding anything from anyone, and perhaps that was the problem. But he was a man of integrity, and he wasn't looking to B.S. anybody. He was simply looking to take advantage of an opening not of his creation to give his son the life he'd dreamed of.

Philip had Sloan's ear, and the live-armed, well-mannered youngster would be a great chance to take. His team had gone 69-93 in its first year, and manager Joe Gordon was unlikely to return. The organization was in flux, and as such the chance to get approval on someone in Austin's situation, with his upside, was likely better than with better, more established teams.

What Philip didn't get was why others weren't as understanding of the situation. He wasn't demanding anything financially, wasn't expecting Austin to be a top pick. But the baseball draft was long, and taking Austin in the 20th round or so, just to give him the chance...what would the harm be?

In Sloan's eyes, apparently nothing.

"I know you have to check, John. Just keep him in mind."

Austin beamed as the doorbell rang. As Philip concluded his conversation, Austin answered the door.

"Austin James?" asked the man in the beige Army uniform.

The phone hit the floor, sinking nearly as fast as Austin's heart.

GH

[TexasLonghorns]

great just great

[rem]

Good stuff indeed.

[messenjah]

Baah, I can't handle the suspense. I want the next chapter right after I read the one before it.

[James M. Rousseau]

Cliffhanger!!

[Kemp]

I am selfishly replying to this thread so that I'll be notified when there are additional posts.

Outstanding story and unbelievably written. Thanks for sharing this.

[The Funk]

Damn, another great cliffhanger. I want more story. Give me more story. Feel faint...