Page 53 of Rocking Player
Today, my skin was raw. As I finished and grabbed my uniform to dress, I saw my phone ring again. I tugged on my gray away game clothes and answered, “Dad. What’s going on?”
Dad sounded like he had when I was a boy, “Your pregame interview wasn’t your usual. Is something going with you, son?”
Maybe he had an answer. I sucked in my breath. Normally I wouldn’t ask, but Dad had managed to hang onto my mom for more than thirty years now.
So I kept my voice low so no one could hear when I said, “I got the offer from New York.”
“And Georgie doesn’t want to go,” he surmised.
I rubbed my neck as the coach was calling us out for some sort of team huddle, but I held back and said, “Yeah.”
“She was clear about that the other day. What’s the second-best offer?”
Just give up on the money? That was his answer. I ignored how my gut was all twisted as I said, “Phil says wait till tomorrow.”
“Look, we worked hard for you to be the best. Georgie seems like a good woman, but you need focus.”
If Phil had a better offer tomorrow, maybe there was a shot at keeping Georgie, if she ever talked to me again.
Or maybe I gave up millions. My fingers shook slightly as I said, “She and I might have been a fantasy.”
“And my grandson? You’ll need a good lawyer if she doesn’t bend.”
My boy mattered, just as much as his mom. I heard the coach in the distance calling out names. He’d get to me in a second, and I had a rush of adrenaline as I said, “I don’t have all the answers yet. That’s why I’m in a bad mood.”
“Shake it off. You have the game of your life and if you want anything other than New York, win big.”
I coughed back the rebellion that comment normally caused in me but also drove me to show him he was wrong. “No pressure at all huh, Dad?”
Dear old dad was the same as he said, “That’s your mother’s job to coddle you. Get your head in the game.”
“I have to go,” I said, and at least I could flex my muscles.
Dad was hard on me, but he was right. I needed to show up and play ball now, not imagine some fantasy life with a woman who clearly didn’t care about me.
I made it to the huddle and the coach didn’t call me out.
Then we all went out as the national anthem was being played. I was silent and let the moment sink in.
I was here to play. Baseball had always been the one girlfriend I could depend on. Hit, run, catch. I had this in me.
As I made it back to the dugout, before we were called out to play my outfielder friend walked over to me and I said, “Rodgers.”
He glanced at me and asked, “Where’s your phone?”
“Huh?” I asked.
He stared at me like I’d committed a murder in front of him as he said, “At this point in the game you always pull out your phone. You said it was your lucky charm.”
Traditions. Right. Georgie’s picture in that bikini of hers had been a dream. And part of my game. I took out my phone like if I didn’t look at her, I’d lose and said, “Right. Thanks.”
His face had color now and he nodded at me. “We need to win, not just for your pinstripes.”
There she was.
Younger, pretty, and staring at me like she actually found me the most interesting person in the world.
Done, I put it away and ignored how my body grew warm like she was part of the package of living happily forever. But I put it away and asked about the Yankees as I said, “How does everyone know about that? I haven’t signed yet.”
