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Old 03-18-2009, 12:18 PM   #361
EMSoccerCoach
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Quote:
Originally Posted by canadiancreed View Post
Wonder if it's the same guy or not...
Yeah...the first post said so.

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Several years ago I began a fictional story in what is called a "Dynasty Thread" on the board for the baseball management text sim Out of the Park Baseball. The story was, thankfully, very well received, but real life prevented me from completing it as time restrictions got in the way.

I miss the story and miss writing. So I am bringing it back here in the ultimate baseball venue, hoping people will enjoy the story as much I enjoy writing it.

By nature of writing on a message board, as this originated, I structured things in a very quick hit style, almost akin to mini-episodes. I hope you'll stop by for each update, as they will take ony a moment or two to read.
So without any further self-indulgent rambling, let's begin the story of Austin James.
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Old 03-18-2009, 04:38 PM   #362
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Yeah...the first post said so.
My mistake in missing that. Good to see it lives again.
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Old 02-12-2010, 01:32 AM   #363
kenyan_cheena
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GForce is still posting this fine story on mlb.com.

Austin James: Playing For His Life (Baseball Fiction): Austin James: Playing for His Life (Entry 42)
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Old 06-02-2010, 06:41 PM   #364
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Wow...it was more than three years ago this stopped.

I hope this finds all of you well. The real Austin is 7 now. The fake one has been stuck in that dugout for three years. I miss writing this. I wanted to get the mlb.com thing going, but that's just not the setting for this kind of thing, and that's fine.

I came by the board and in the boxing section noticed a fellow former board member who had been banned was back posting his dynasty. And so, when I thought about it, I decided to come back here and hope I would be allowed to do the same. We'll see.

Time for me to step back out of reality into the fantasy world of Austin James. Hope you'll rejoin me there.

GH
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Old 06-02-2010, 08:11 PM   #365
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Austin sat on a folding chair in front of his locker, head bowed. Surprisingly, once the game was over there wasn't much talk about what had gone down with Burns. The young guys didn't know what to say. The veterans didn't care enough to say anything.

The place had thinned out, a few stragglers remaining but none near Austin's locker. Until, that is, Rube Walker came over to him.

"You OK, kid?"

Walker hadn't been particularly warm to Austin throughout the spring. Not mean, by any chance, but Austin simply thought he had no use for youngsters, particularly those who weren't going to be his problem in a few weeks. So there was a bit of shock on Austin's part that Walker was the one to approach him.

"Yes, sir, I'm fine," Austin replied.

"He's your roommate, right? Burns?" Walker asked.

Austin nodded. "Skip sent him home?" he asked, knowingly.

"Down with the minor leaguers," Walker said. "He wasn't going to be here much longer anyway, so don't feel too bad for him."

Austin was relieved - and shocked - Burns wasn't released outright after the episode.

"You'll have a room to yourself for a night or two, until we figure out who to move with you," Walker said. "Unless one of the vets complains."

Austin nodded understandingly.

"You two close?" Walker asked.

Austin sat surprised Walker seemed so concerned. But he appreciated it nonetheless.

"As close as you could get in a couple of weeks, I suppose," he answered. "We were in the same boat, going through the same stuff. It was nice to have someone around who got it...someone to talk about it with."

Walker pulled a chair up next to Austin and sat, leaning in close.

"Lots of guys are in your boat, Austin," Walker said. "Let too many in and it becomes harder to keep it balanced."

Austin felt he understood the point, but couldn't understand why Walker was expressing it to him.

"Forgive me, sir, but..."

"You have talent, son," Walker said. "But I've seen loads of guys with talent, including many with far more talent than you. But a lot of them let too much into their boat. Too many people, the wrong people, the wrong vices."

"I'm responsible, Mr. Walker," Austin said. "My head's on pretty good."

"You ARE responsible, Austin. I can tell that already. You were raised right, son," he said, rising from his chair with a hand on Austin's shoulder. "But just remember, you're only responsible for yourself."

As he drove back to the hotel, Austin thought about his brief talk with Walker. When he arrived at camp, Don Cardwell made a point of telling Austin that Walker was as nice as they came, but would probably be a bit hard, or detached, from the younger players. "He doesn't want to get attached to guys who will be gone in a month," he recalled Cardwell saying.

Which, after Walker's words of wisdom bred the question in Austin's mind: Does he think I can stick?

The answerless question filled Austin's head for the brief drive, and for his walk up the stairs to the hotel room. It left the minute the door opened.

Burns' side of the closet was empty, the only remains of his stay a pair of singles on the end table that he owed Austin from breakfast and a note:

"Austin,

I'm sorry I couldn't stay. But I'll be back, my friend. Until then, keep doing what you're doing. You're the real deal."

Austin smiled at the signature.

"Burnsie."

Austin recounted Walker's advice. But as he sat on the edge of the bed accepting of his momentary loneliness, he couldn't help but fear Burns wouldn't cope nearly as well.

He feared for his friend.

GH
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Old 06-03-2010, 09:00 AM   #366
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just read through the whole thing, glad it's back and looking forward to reading more
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Old 10-29-2015, 08:06 PM   #367
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Hard to believe it was more than 10 years ago that I started writing this...my own fault it never finished. Austin deserved to have a career
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Old 10-30-2015, 03:11 AM   #368
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Probably my favourite baseball dynasty of all time on these forums.
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Old 10-30-2015, 10:59 AM   #369
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Probably my favourite baseball dynasty of all time on these forums.
Thanks, KC!
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Old 02-04-2020, 08:25 PM   #370
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"What in the hell is that?"

It wasn't exactly the best introduction one could make, but those were the first words Ken Singleton ever said that Austin took notice of.

"Pickle brine" Nolan Ryan replied in his Texas twang, his right hand stuck in an oversized jug of the stuff. "Stops my blisters."

"Just nod and walk away," McGraw chimed in, shaking his head in disgust. "Trust me."

The clubhouse broke up with laughter, recalling the incident a year prior when McGraw mocked Ryan's use of the brine and Ryan responded by pickling McGraw's glove. Austin only knew the story because he'd asked Ryan the same question - more subtly than Singleton, mind you - previously.

Singleton was going to be a good player, there was no doubt. A New York City product, Singleton attended Hofstra University, not 15 minutes from Austin's house. He'd batted .309 in AA last year and posted a plus .420 OBP each season in the minors. He'd probably start 1970 in AAA, but he was coming, and everyone knew it.

The mood was light. It had been a few days since Burns and others had been sent packing, and nobody - besides Austin, really, seemed to flinch about it. These were the World Champion Mets, and they were reveling in it. That concerned Hodges somewhat, but he'd let it go if they were playing well. They'd earned it.

Folkers had replaced Burns as Austin's roommate. The screwballing lefthander looked somewhat professorial with his big glasses, but he didn't say much. They got on well and hung out with the other young guys, there just wasn't a lot of deep conversation.

Until there was...

"You always seem so calm," Austin said later that night in the midst of watching television in their room after Folkers had thrown a 1-2-3 inning against the Cardinals earlier in the day.

"Well," he began before dropping the bomb.

"Once you've been shot at, baseball doesn't stress you so much."

There were words in Austin's head. His lips moved. But nothing came out.

Folkers looked at him, registered his shock, and just started talking.

"Seven months, 16 days," he said flatly. "Took on fire a couple times, lost a guy, Jimmy, in my group. Did what I had to do and when they told me I could leave, I came home."

Just like that? Austin pondered. He had so many questions. The biggest of them being how the heck was Folkers even there if he had served and the war was still going on.

Austin's father was fond of saying "you don't know what you don't know until someone shows you." Folkers had just showed him - in a mental full-monty - all he didn't know.

He wanted to know more. He wanted to ask.

All Folkers wanted was another beer and some shuteye.

Austin shared in the former.

The latter, on this night, would come far less easily.

GH
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Old 02-04-2020, 09:52 PM   #371
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It's good to see this great story back on the first page. I hope we won't have to wait years for more of Austin's story.

Keep up the fantastic work, GF.
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Old 02-04-2020, 10:37 PM   #372
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It's good to see this great story back on the first page. I hope we won't have to wait years for more of Austin's story.

Keep up the fantastic work, GF.

Thank ya, sir. Can't believe this story started 15 years ago! Life is allowing me to get back into the hobby at least a bit, so hopefully this will be a regular thread again.


Seeing Keystone and Austin back on top of the dynasty forum is going to make someone think the board crashed!

GH
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Old 02-06-2020, 09:13 PM   #373
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Two days had passed since Folkers sent Austin's mind spinning. And, if Folkers was aware of what he'd done, he certainly didn't show it.

Austin had tried to keep things normal, and fortunately he had schoolwork to get done to keep the conversation to a minimum. But it wasn't for lack of wanting.

Folkers, too, was curious at Austin's studies. Once a player was drafted out of high school, college generally became an afterthought. Folkers had attended a pair of small colleges in Iowa, but that was prior to being selected. Once he was taken, going spectacles deep into the books was the furthest thing from his mind.

And today surely wasn't the day. For Austin was to take the hill against the Pirates in Bradenton.

Clemente. Stargell. Mazeroski.

The idea of facing any of the Pirates' big stars made Austin's heart race. He was in awe of Clemente, in particular, one of his father's favorite players.

Koosman was to start, and despite them being complete opposites, Austin loved to watch Koosman work.

Which made it near-bucklingly cool when Koosman sided up to Austin prior to the game.

"How do you grip that changeup?"

I'm sorry? What? Jerry Koosman is asking me about pitching?

"Um," Austin stammered. "Well..."

Koosman laughed. "Swoboda won't shut up about it. It's a beauty."

Austin tried to compose himself rather than go full fanboy, but he knew he was being unsuccessful, to say the least.

So Koosman continued to talk, hoping Austin would be able to compose a thought at some point before the season started.

"I've got my heat, I've got my slider. But I want something else, one more wrinkle. Always gotta work to get better, you know?"

And for some reason, that comment registered with Austin - this wasn't All-Star and rookie, not idol and kid.

This was two pitchers. Talking shop.

This was baseball, and it was Austin's life now.

That feeling had come and gone several times during his tumultuous journey. And it would surely pass again, at some point, for some reason he couldn't see coming quite yet. Such was the nature of this beast of a situation he was desperately trying to tame.

But for this moment, a calm washed over him.

"I hold it deep but loose. My fingertips do the work..."

Two pitchers. Talking shop.

What could be more perfect than that?

GH
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Old 02-13-2020, 11:27 PM   #374
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The Koosman conversation lasted about 20 minutes, which felt both like two minutes and two hours to Austin. He was, wisely, willing to ask Koosman about his slider grip, which the affable Minnesotan was all too happy to demonstrate.


Koosman told Austin the slider made his career. He was scuffling through the minor leagues when Frank Lary, a fine pitcher with the Tigers in the 50s and 60s before coming to the Mets in 1964, and he became a roving coach and scout after he retired.


The year Lary taught him the slider, Koosman put up a 1.38 ERA in the New York Penn League. The next year he was in the majors.


Austin knew his changeup and fastball were money. He also knew his curveball was, at best, inconsistent. The slider, if he could get the hang of it, would at least give him something to fall back on when his curve was off.

He was even more sure of that when he saw Koosman go six up, six down against the Pirates starters over two innings of work and a mere 24 pitches.

Koosman threw two changeups, both in the second inning. The first, Roberto Clemente hit a 9-iron's length over a walkway and concession stand beyond the outfield fence but foul.

The second, though, fleet outfielder Gene Clines missed to a degree that made clear there was no optometrist on the Pirates' training staff.

Austin had made his way out to the bullpen to begin getting loose by the time Koosman was finished. But as the All-Star veteran and World Series hero exited, he looked out toward Austin and gave an acknowledging wave of the glove, a small, simple gesture that, for Austin, was absolutely perfect.

"Hey Jack," Austin called from the slab. "Once I'm loose, I want to sling a few fours...just to test it out."

With a spit and a nod, Jack was in the squat and Austin was getting ready for work.

GH
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The Alltime Hockey Association
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Austin James: Playing For His Life (a Vietnam-era baseball drama)
The Pastime Boxing Association

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Old 02-23-2020, 09:06 PM   #375
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Austin stood at the rear base of the mound, took a quick grab of the rosin bag followed by a handful of dirt he rubbed into the palm of his hand before throwing it aside, a habit he'd begun as a Little Leaguer because, well, little leaguers didn't get to have rosin.

Soon he felt a glove on his right shoulder.

"Rube wants you to work the two a bit more this time," Dyer said.

"Whatever you call, I'm good," Austin answered. "Just do me a favor...drop a four if you think it's an OK time. Koos showed me a slider grip and I want to give it a spin."

"New tricks are good. We get into a waste pitch spot and I'll drop one down for ya," Dyer said with a pat on the back as he turned to trot back to the dish.

The Mets had scored in the third after lanky righthander Denis Musgraves worked out of trouble to keep the Pirates scoreless. Donn Clendenon, the longtime Pirate who had been taken by the Expos in the expansion draft, took his old squad deep.

Austin first faced first baseman George Kopacz, a lefty first baseman with a little pop.

Dyer surprised Austin by dropping the deuce on the first pitch, something Austin had done a handful of times in his entire life.

It clearly wasn't what Kopacz was expecting, as he shimmied but never swung at a bender that moved well but came in a little outside. Austin pumped two fastballs inside, belt high. Kopacz swung through the first and dribbled the second foul.

The infield chatter was constant, particularly for a spring matchup. Austin prepped for Dyer to go heater high, or maybe to the changeup.

But Dyer went back to the deuce.

Austin told himself he wouldn't shake Dyer off all day, and he held to that despite reservations. Dyer pawed the dirt and repositioned. Austin got it loud and clear and snapped off a biting curve that bit too hard, hitting the plate and careening to the side. Kopacz didn't offer.

Next came the gas, and Kopacz offered hard. But he came away with nothing, swinging through a fastball at the letters for the strikeout.

Shortstop Gene Alley batted next, and Austin went to the fastball right away - and then again - to go up 0-2.

Then Dyer dropped the four. Austin looked into his glove as he set, which he never did, as though he didn't believe he had the stitches right. Properly convinced, he reared back and fired.

The ball moved plenty. And quickly, stroked on a rope toward centerfield. But Agee read it well and corralled it a step shy of the warning track for the second out.

"Generally, a slider moves," Dyer said dryly.

Austin could do nothing but grin.

"Needs a little work, huh?" he asked.

"That's why we're here, kid. That's why we're here," Dyer called back as he readied to crouch.

Austin had been so wrapped up in his warmup that he never looked at the lineup card despite knowing all the notables on the Pirates roster.

Then he saw it.

"21"

Roberto ****ing Clemente. Are you kidding????

He knew he was there, of course. How could you not? He was CLEMENTE!

But Austin hadn't observed the batting order. He just saw him in the field.

Clemente was, at 5'11", shorter than Austin. But as he stared in at him, the legendary rightfielder destined for Cooperstown seemed bigger. Much, much bigger.

The strength in Clemente's hands was visible from the mound. He was lean, and his stance LOOKED aggressive.

It seemed even more so when Austin's first-pitch fastball was obliterated foul, a line drive that neither rose nor dipped. It hit the corner where the foul wall met the outfield wall and almost inconceivably died on the spot.

"Jesus" Austin muttered a bit louder than he thought he had.

Clemente cracked a slight smile but said nothing.

Dyer called fastball again. And Austin missed away. Well away.

Dyer called for another. And Austin missed away again.

Austin got the return from Dyer and walked to the back of the mound only to be met by Clendenon.

"I don't give a **** how hard he hit that ball," he said calmly but firmly. "You were up in the count. All being scared does is give him the advantage. Go at him...if he gets you, he's gotten guys a hell of lot older than you, kid."

And with that, Clendenon was back at first and Austin strode back to the rubber.

Curveball? Behind 2-1? Are you ****ing crazy?

But so it was. And Austin snapped it off right on the outside corner at the knees to even the count at 2.

Dyer called for the changeup, and Austin prepped his best pitch. About three inches off the plate, it dove and tailed back just a touch. Clemente strode out for it and made contact, nubbing it up the first base line.

Austin got a great break off the mound and scooped the ball up in a full run. He stepped in front of Clemente and tagged him on the stomach, the two ending nearly nose to nose to the point of near awkwardness - though that was likely just Austin's feeling.

But in an instant, he was the baseball card collecting kid stacking shoeboxes in the closet. He was a fan.

"Pleasure to meet you, sir," he said as he patted Clemente on the arm.

He smiled his contagious smile.

"Pleasure is mine. Thank you."

Clemente trotted back toward the Pirates dugout. And Austin, with a racing heart and a 1-2-3 inning under his belt, did the same.

Until he heard Hodges.

"Our dugout's this way, James."

Sheepishly Austin made his way back to the Mets' dugout. Embarrassment flooded him.

"Not the first time, kid," Hodges assured him. "You did great."

A big exhale and a bench of high-fives later, Austin was seated and allowed himself a big, broad smile.

Roberto ****ing Clemente. Are you kidding????

GH
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The Pastime Boxing Association

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