Second Chance at Bat, page 28
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Pam snuggled close and whispered to Joey. "I think you're a champ."
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"Yeah?"
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They kissed again, this time more tenderly.
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"What was it that Ernie Banks used to say?" Joey referenced a Hall of Fame Chicago Cubbie that never went to a World Series?
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Pam was confused, "Huh? Ernie Banks? Who's he?"
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Joey moved even closer. "He was a ballplayer before our time and he was famous for a saying." Joey disappeared under the covers.
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Pam was getting the idea, but still asked, "and what was that?"
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"Lets play two." came the muffled response.
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xxxxx
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Oh Johnny, you've been here all the time. You were always nice to me growing up. When I started to develop, you liked to tease me all those times to you came over to see Juliette. I made pretend that you were coming over to see me. Remember, at the pool, when your hand would accidentally slip when we played Marco Polo. We were all young and learning about our bodies. I laughed and giggled always and said 'No Johnny', but I never got out of the pool while you were there. I cheered for you in High School. How you broke through the line and scored all those touchdowns made me cheer louder. You were so big and strong. I always liked watching you dance, your were so sure of yourself. You could really dance. Look how good you've done for yourself. You worked yourself up from salesman to owning your own car dealership. We always bought our cars from "Honest John" Fabrizzi. You always supported the Little League with a team and advertising on the outfield fences. Patty didn't know how lucky she was to have been married to you.
When D played let's pretend in Florida, he made me bring my car in for repairs, you came over to Service to talk to me. You were never too busy to listen. You helped me so much to overcome my loneliness. I told D not to leave this last time,but he had to go play with his new friends. He wouldn't listen to me, Johnny. Its seems like a dream, these last couple of months. At first I was scared to be with another man. But I gotta admit that sneaking around was exciting and fun. When we first made love, you made me feel special. I was so nervous, I was a wreck, but you were so patient with me. I only had experience with one man and I knew that you would be a willing teacher. I was so right. You brought the woman out in me time and time again. I didn't know I was starving until I had a good meal. You're not leaving Reading. Everything you need is right here and so am I. You'll get to know Joey, he's a good kid. He wants to live by himself, so we can make as much noise as we want. I know with a good diet and the right exercises, we can get rid of your love handles. Just watch.
When can we announce our love to the world? I want to show you off around town. I want to go dancing with you. I can teach you all the Latin dances. I can go with you to the Casinos and get a tan on the beach while you play blackjack. There is so much about my dreams of our future together. I'm not too old to want to start a family with you. There is so much to talk about. Next time, I promise.
Linda had been sitting across the road from the dealership, like she had numerous times this summer watching him through the fishbowl that was Fabrizzi Cadillac. The surveyors, who just started their work measuring the State highway, were staring at her on their lunch break. They could stare all they wanted, cuz she was Johnny's girl.
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xxxxx
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Scene 70
Loss number one in August was one-zip to the best pitcher the Phillies faced so far. Three months earlier, Joe would have asked the guy for an autograph. The second loss during the dog days of summer came on a blistering hot day game at Wrigley. Joe added a throw to the outfield into the E column to go along with one from each middle infielders and his center fielder. Just as the college kids were going back to school, the Padres put more hits and runs together in one game than then they had against Joe all season for loss number three. That's all the Delaware Valley could talk about. Insiders knew that the Phils went 6-4 in his ten August starts, tying another record. Three losses, three no decisions and four wins in the month, not exactly house on fire stuff, Average Joe was thought to be just kind of average. With a little luck, he could have been 8-2. So, as it said on an infant's bib that Joe autographed for her parents, 'Spit happens'.
Joe had a chance to sit back and take in the month of August on the ride to New York. Teams were making adjustments now after the insanity of trying to do the same thing over and over again with the same results. They were using left-handed hitters and speedier runners. They got out of the box and down the line faster on ground balls, dribblers and humpback liners. The batting stances were being altered to swat at the no-seamer. Fast wrists flicking lighter bats through the strike zone translated into better contact. After a few inside the park homers, Joe's outfielders had to move back to less shallow outfield positions in order to cut off line drives down the lines or into the gaps. That opened more holes for miscues to find a home. More hits meant more runners on base. Even though, Joe had a decent move to first, when he committed to throw to the plate, it cruised in at 68-70 MPH. Faster base runners were now stealing on him with more regularity and getting into scoring position. Clay started calling for fastball pitch-outs and that deepened counts. More batters and more pitches meant earlier exits some nights.
The losses hurt, but hey, they weren't entirely his fault, Joe reminded himself. Losing 1-0 to a great pitcher in the NL is nothing to get too worried about unless its the final game of the playoffs. Taking a three run lead into the Ninth and having your closer blow it, happens. Its not cataclysmic, as long as it doesn't shatter the closer's confidence. Which it didn't. Getting beat when your otherwise stellar defense makes the most errors in any of your starts so far to date, had to rear its ugly head sooner or later. No hitting, errors and a blown save can certainly make it look like you're human. Especially, when the Padres pick your number not to add to the loss column on their march to collecting a hundred of them.
He did have a special treat recently; no not pitching tips from the President of the United States, nor a Hottie jumping the railing to lay a kiss on him. Instead ,he gladly donned his old Bay Sox uniform and joined all the Phantasy Baseball Campers for pre-game ceremonies where they were honored before a game at Citizens Bank Park. He was surprised that his roomy made the trip East for the Reunion and they had lots to talk about besides baseball. His roomy worked for a non-profit on the Coast and Joe promised to visit. The cheers from each of the families of his fellow men and women campers was nice as each camper was announced with their name over the PA system and their picture flashed onto the scoreboard. Joe got the biggest cheer from the Stadium crowd, but he had no family in attendance. He couldn't pre-game with the boys, who did make a point on the field to jab him that he lost more games with the Phillies in one month than he had lost with them. The ribbing was good-natured as they adored their local boy does good who would later that night pitch a four hit shut out before giving way to Duren who nailed the door shut. That night, he was able to tip his cap to Marsha O'Shea. Joe had left two tickets for her and she brought her brother, who was now a high ranking officer in Intelligence with the Philly PD.
On a positive note for the month, Two of the three no-decision games were extra inning games that went Philly's way, thanks to the new lumber coming off the bench from the bargain-hunting done by Oscar before the trade deadline.
The press and the fans were worried. The brass was rumbling and grumbling, but Joe was never their favorite anyway. Doc wasn't worried and just shrugged his shoulders. The team overall was trying to find that rhythm when they hit and fielded consistently like they did when Average Joe's no-seamer was the most talked about sporting event of the decade. Now that the league had seen it a couple-three times, the excitement was wearing off for the players. With the exception of Ellis Long, the rest of the hitters were coming back down to their averages. The bullpen stabilized and Julio went back to being just a bullpen coach. He faded into the backdrop of the stage as much as the backdrop behind the outfield walls where he sat, sunglasses firmly in place. Julio began to show up for games later and later and he didn't venture out much on the road. Not being in demand can have a cruel effect on one's new stardom that had withered like new grass in this hot summer's sun.
Harmon Ennis didn't see any need to fiddle with Joe's mechanics. Joe's ERA was still minuscule and the strike out to walk ratio was leading the league by a wide margin. More importantly, those ten starts ate up 75 innings. With Artie Culp getting back to his April form, the team was optimistic going into the final month of the season. September is broken down into home and away series. Must win games were looming against teams that were only now playing for pride. Then there were the games in the NL East where you can close the distance in a hurry. Now, just before Labor Day, how could one not look back at some of those agonizing losses in April and May? Those he could do nothing about. Joe couldn't go back in a time machine and get them out of the basement then, he could only think about his next start. Its a trite saying, but you can only play one game at a time. Get hot now and the Phillies could make a run at First place. Win more often than not and with a little luck, one of the Wild cards was still up for grabs. Back at home, three things were happening all at once. Linda was still stepping out, but the hotels became motels and seedier ones at that. They were less careful and surveillance close-up video outside the "no-tell motels" were proof positive that while the cat was away, the rats did play; to mangle a phrase. He had not confronted her and would not do so until after the season was over. It would be a distraction in the stretch run. During the month, he had a chance to calm down and look at it with equanimity. Divorcing Linda was not a pleasant thought, but having almost no sex with her for over a year and the conversations with her on post-it notes or as she slammed doors behind her made it a little easier. Okay, could he have handled Joey's situation differently he asked himself over and over again? That was the core for their split. The risky move of kicking him out of the house forced Joey to take responsibility for himself and Joe was thankful that Joey was turning it around on his own without making a fatal mistake. His was not a question of where was the fine line between facilitating Joey's healthy return to drug-free living or enabling his son to torture them with a spiral into drug abuse that would suck them down with him. Joey's actions at the pool party that night, made it easy for Joe to cleanly separate both physically and emotionally. Linda never really understood the necessity of it and blamed Joe for splitting up the family.
Hot Shot had moved permanently into a starting role and was lights out. What Joe said to him must have lit a fire under his ass. The kid was acting like a steely-eyed professional and was dominating for the last six weeks just like the summer that his rocket arm carried the Reading All-Stars to the final Little League World Series game in Williamsport. Hot Shot had been promoted to the Triple A Lehigh Valley Iron Pigs and notched two Ws in as many starts. He was throwing as much off-speed junk as the mustard and it was devastating. The word back through the Callahans and Link Lutek was that Hot Shot got his head straightened out and just in time. September call-ups to the expanded roster were right around the corner.
The agency was going gang-busters. Marge hired another writer to handle the excess business and the CRM system they had implemented the year before was paying dividends in time-savings and less paper shuffling. They had cranked up the advertising which included Joe making a few appearances in commercials extolling the virtues of using an Independent Agent.
Little did Joe know as they made their way up the NJ turnpike to close out August that September was going to be a white-knuckle roller coaster ride.
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xxxxx
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Scene72
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"Not sure you should go." Tom said after sopping up the egg yolks with a piece of dark rye toast. They had been talking about the news for most of breakfast and now Tom was putting the kibosh on it.
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"Jesus Christ Tom! Do you hear what your saying?" Hot Shot replied.
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"Yeah I do Blake, its a job promotion to a strange city, with new people, new temptations and much more pressure. What am I missing?" Tom heaped the marmalade onto the other piece of toast that came with his Reading Diner all-day breakfast special.
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"I started out as a long man in Double A, had two great starts in Lehigh Valley and now I get to put on a big league uniform and play baseball with the best in the business. This has been my dream for all my life."
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Joey was a deer in the headlights. "I know what you're saying pardner, but hear him out." Joey was conflicted. He was so excited for his friend who he had been rooting for since... well, forever. All they had ever talked about was becoming big leaguers. Hot Shot and Joey were going to play baseball together in the big leagues. That was the dream. They got a taste of fame with the Little League World Series. That's when the Reading Phillies started keeping tabs on the boys. Yet Joey knew from the rooms that success could easily sabotage sobriety. He was being careful in his own growth and was still taking baby steps to a normal and sober life. He had yet to tell his friend about Pam.
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"How many days have you been sober?" Tom asked between bites.
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"Forty-two and it hasn't been easy going to a meeting every day, you know that."
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"What else has happened in those forty-two days?" Tom sipped his coffee with cream and lots of sugar.
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"I stopped being a thrower and started being a pitcher."
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"What else? Tom asked as he stifled a belch.
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"I'm working on my attitude, I don't unravel when something goes wrong."
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"What else?" Tom repeated while signaling the server.
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"Christ Tom, I hate when you make me do this." Hot Shot fumed. "I want your blessing before Joey takes me to New York to meet up with the big team."
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"Yeah lookin' inside yourself is hard Blake, I know, but that is where you are makin' the most progress." Tom said. "I don't know much about sports, but isn't it the mental aspects of the game that separates the average from the best?"
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Both Joey and Hot Shot were silent as they glanced at each other.
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"All I'm saying is that the stakes will be greater. People will tell you how great you are. Will your ego take over again? You humbled yourself and look what happened?"
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Joey saw that Tom had Hot Shot's attention. He could follow up on these themes on the ride up.
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"I am happy for you Blake, you know that, but not for the reasons you think. You have worked hard at your sobriety, harder than you worked with your God-given talent for pitching, most of which has come easy to you. You have worked more on yourself in August than you probably have in your lifetime. I just wished your season ended today so that you had more time to get ready for next year-but you have a chance here to glimpse into the future. Does that future include wrecked cars, ruined relationships and squandered success and worse? It could, if your not careful right here, right now."
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Hot Shot was listening, crunching the ice in his tea but he was drinking the Kool-aid. The server placed the check on the table and Hot Shot instinctively reached for it.
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Tom put his hand on Hot Shot's. "Here's the deal kid. A meeting every day still, no excuses and you call me at midnight your time no matter East Coast-West Coast, until the season is over." Tom grinned at Hot Shot. " Allow me to be the first to treat you like a Major Leaguer." He slipped the check into his liver-spotted and gnarled hand.
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Hot Shot's face brightened. He stood up and hugged Tom in a bear hug nearly crushing the old man. "It's a deal."
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People at the Diner admired the scene of an old man and two young men crying with happy smiles on their tear-streaked faces.
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xxxxx
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'I'm just happy to be here." Hot Shot said to the Press packing the conference room at Citi-Field. The Phillies wasted no time in announcing that the roster expansion included a former player of their star pitcher Joe DiNatale. Not quite a father/son thing, but good enough to bring out the national media. Again, the historians could not find an instance of a little league coach and player appearing on the same Major League roster. Joe didn't mind sitting there this time. It was all about Hot Shot. They had made a truce beforehand and were comfortable sitting together. Joe had kept up with Hot Shot's progress after their meeting in his office. Link Lutek, Howie and the Callahans apprised Joe of the new and improved Blake Hunter. Howie added that Blake hadn't had a drink in his presence since leaving the insurance office that day.
