Second Chance at Bat, page 29
* * *
"He'll always be Coach D to me.", Hot Shot continued. "He taught me a lot about baseball growing up and he has been there for me when I needed his help off the field too. I was struggling for awhile there in Reading and he gave me some excellent advice."
* * *
"What advice was that?" Stew Menke asked.
* * *
Hot Shot didn't hesitate. "It always came pretty easy to me and the first time I faced real adversity, I was unprepared for it. Coach D talked about what it was like for him coming into all this." Hot Shot waved to circus of cameras and microphones pointed at them. "I wasn't helping the team by being selfish, He talked to me about taking care of business and leaving my ego in the parking lot."
* * *
Joe listened closely. He felt this answer was suitable for the assemblage. No need to mention the minor truths that Hot Shot was passed out drunk when he crashed his truck or that he then lied about a theft claim.
* * *
"Blake was always a good student of the game. I am not surprised that he is sitting here today. He has worked hard to get to this point and it will be fun playing on the same team as we look to make a move here in September." Joe said.
* * *
"Blake, you've seen Joe's knuckleball growing up, any advice for the National League hitters?" A New York writer asked.
* * *
"Swing early and often." Hot Shot didn't miss a beat.
* * *
Everyone chuckled at that last sound bite. Blake served it up like a hanging curveball. The Phillies PR guy ended the conference with some blah-blah-blah. The newsies started loading their gear. Blake leaned over to Joe and asked out of earshot. "Can we go somewhere and talk privately for a minute?"
* * *
Joe nodded and their Mutt and Jeff appearance was more pronounced when they stood up.
* * *
Joe led Blake through the trainer's room to a spot behind a noisy ice machine.
* * *
"What's up Blake?" Joe asked quietly. He eyed his big league teammate from about the same physical distance as their last come-to-Jesus meeting, this time it was without the distrust.
* * *
"I have to make things right Coach. I didn't know when I would have gotten the chance to talk to you again. I knew that my actions had to speak louder than any words could have since the time we last met." Hot Shot paused. "Since then, I have tried to lead my life in a way that you would be proud of me. I am ashamed of what I did and I will never lie to you again." Hot Shot had just come from a room full of reporters where he just became a Major League debutante. It would have been easy for an ego to spill over into this conversation, but Joe could see a pleasant maturity in his son's best friend.
"I regret a lot what I said and did, but I feel worse about what I did to Joey." Hot Shot paused to collect a confessional breath. "He picked me up that night, that much is true, but he wasn't part of my scheme to hide the truth. That was all me Coach. He was so upset with me when I told him how I lied to you and dragged him into it. I can't tell you how hurt he was when I told him that you didn't want to see him. I vowed to him that I would do whatever it took to right this wrong. You gotta believe me, Coach. Joey had nothing to do with my bullshit." Blake was almost crying.
* * *
Joe wanted to believe Hot Shot. He took his time internalizing this piece of information. This changes everything.
* * *
More urgently Hot Shot implored. "Coach, it was all on me. I was stupid and feel very bad that I drove you guys further apart." Joe could tell this was a guy not used to ripping his guts outs in front of anybody. When you earn a nickname of Hot Shot, it doesn't conjure up thoughts of a touchy-feely kind of guy. Especially when you stand six foot six inches tall and are made of solid muscle.
* * *
The kid could throw a fastball through a barn door, but now he served up an apology that Joe could tee off on.
* * *
Joe didn't swing back, but silently sat as he mulled this over.
* * *
"Joey could have held a grudge against me and I wouldn't blame him if he did, but he has helped me to get my stuff squared away. He introduced me to his sponsor and without the two of them, I don't think I'd be here in a Phillies Uniform talking to you now."
* * *
Finally Joe made up his mind. "Thank you for being honest with me, Blake. It goes a long way to patching things up between me and Joey." He began rearranging his world view to accommodate this admission.
* * *
"Another thing Coach, I don't think a day goes by that Joey regrets what he did when he blacked out at Cassandra's pool party."
* * *
"What's that?" Joe cocked his head and was riveted by this new revelation.
* * *
"I thought you knew, Coach. Joey didn't remember any of it. Me n' him went back to the apartment and when he came out of it, he asked me how much of the night he blanked on. I told him how badly he fucked up. Later on, people that were still speaking to him, told him the gory details too. I don't think he has ever recalled what really happened that night."
* * *
"You mean to tell me that he didn't know what he was saying or doing?" Joe asked. The last of the scar tissue was releasing from his heart. His heart flooded with warm emotions.
* * *
Hot Shot shook his head emphatically. "He didn't mean any of it Coach. Joey loves you and knows that you were absolutely right to kick him out. Whether he was blacked out or not, he'd gotten himself high and drunk that night. He knew that he made his own mess. In a million years, he never would have done or said any of that crap. He was completely out of his mind. I never saw him like that before or since. I think it was a Jeckyll and Hyde thing.
* * *
Joe understood it now. Finally, he had the whole picture. Joey loved him. Joey said and did something when he was not himself. It made perfect sense.
* * *
"I wish I could talk to him." Joe said wistfully.
* * *
Hot Shot touched his old coach and new teammate on the knee. "Its your lucky day Coach, he'll be in the stands for the game. He drove me up today. He didn't have to work tonight. My dad is coming up the 'pike as we speak. I got the tickets set up for tonight n' tomorrow for the both of them."
* * *
Artie Culp pitched a solid game. The Mets hadn't seen him since April and he picked up with them where he left off. The hitting and defense came together. Corrales came in for the save. Joe had the night off from charting pitches and sat with Julio, Clay and Hot Shot in the bullpen. Hot Shot had to carry the pink backpack and boa to the pen as was customary for the youngest and newest member of the bullpen. Julio was quieter than usual, but welcomed Joe and Clay to his outfield enclave. Joe was engaged in the humor flying around a bullpen when the game is easily in hand. He usually sat on the bench with Vic and Clay. Tonight was not about getting lessons in the game of pro ball, He could hang out with his friends and relax After the game, Joe and Hot Shot made quick work of getting into their street clothes. They had to answer some more questions about how their long term relationship has changed. Both were watching the clock as they patiently responded to the reporters.
Outside of the clubhouse, Howie and Joey were waiting for Joe and Hot Shot.
The men embraced their boys. This was a special meeting for all of them. Howie with his big league son and the big league father with the prodigal son.
* * *
"Dad, I am so sorry for all the crap that I put you and Mom through." Joey cried into his father's shoulder.
* * *
"It's okay son. You are okay and that's all that matters." Joe couldn't squeeze back the tears in his own eyes.
* * *
Tearful embraces after a win were unusual, but nobody was going to argue with
Howie and Hot Shot standing guard as their friends talked quietly now, heads down.
* * *
"I'm so proud of you Dad. I couldn't wait to tell you in person."
* * *
"I am proud of you too Joey. It's like you pulled yourself out of a horrible pit."
* * *
"That shit nearly killed me, but it doesn't control me anymore. I work hard on my sobriety everyday."
* * *
Hot Shot was nodding in agreement.
* * *
The conversations carried through to the player's hotel. where they were staying. Joe sat at his usual table across from his son who had grown up in the two years since their ugly encounter. Linda was right. He became a nice young man, no longer the sullen and belligerent teenager that got hooked on heroin. Howie and Hot Shot sat with them. By all accounts, this was a special time. Talking about life and baseball and their lives in baseball. When it got to be midnight, the boys excused themselves and said that they had to make a call. That left Howie and Joe to sit there and bask in it all.
* * *
"Can you believe this Howie, all of us together again?"
* * *
"I figured you and Joey would patch things up eventually. I am glad that Joey cleaned up his act and is helping Blake in the process."
* * *
"Sounds like he is putting down good signs for Hot Shot."
* * *
"Maybe this time, he won't shake Joey off." Again a reference to the biggest day of their collective lives. Howie added. "It looks like our kids are doing most of the right things now as they find their way in this world."
* * *
"That's all we can hope for." Joe replied.
* * *
"Do you think that you'll be able to patch things up with Linda?" asked the twice-divorced Howie, who had always professed no knowledge of what makes the female species tick.
* * *
Joe just shook his head no. He looked around and was hoping to spot Janice, but she no longer worked there. The ginger ale was the same, but somehow tasted flat, even on this special night.
* * *
The long time friends sat is silence soaking in all of the day's events.
* * *
About the same time that Joey and Hot Shot were calling Tom, Janice Detweiler walked past them in the hotel lobby. Of all the nights for him to have company, I couldn't just barge in there and start up a conversation, they would think I was a groupie or worse. It was now after midnight as Janice walked back to the subway. She had bought tickets for her and Mandy to watch Joe pitch the next night.....maybe then, she thought, maybe then.
* * *
xxxxx
* * *
"Blew us off again.", Clay surmised.
* * *
"Let me guess, tall blond mid-twenties?" Hot Shot asked.
* * *
The full table looked at the rookie. How'd he know Julio's MO? Joe wondered.
* * *
"That's how he rolled in Spring Training and while we were in Reading together" Hot Shot shrugged while destroying his egg white huevos rancheros.
* * *
Clay met his favorite pitcher, Howie, Hot Shot and Joey that morning at the table. The conversation turned to the evening's contest with the Mets. If things continued about the same, they would be battling for the remaining Wild Card spot. The Braves had been on fire since the All-Star break. LA and the Giants would lock down the West and the other Wild Card. Both coasts had been beating up the Central and their division leader could possibly end up just over .500.
* * *
"First time through the line up, lets keep it normal, then we'll start changing speeds and use the curve ball when you are 0-2 on them".
* * *
Normally, this strategy would be directed towards Hot Shot and every pitcher in the league, but today it was the first time that Joe would try to throw something other that the no-seamer for strikes.
* * *
"Striking out Bruiser with a fast ball would be sweet." Joe said. His arm had gotten stronger through the season, not more tired. Long tossing and bullpens were the key. With Artie back in the lineup and taking a regular turn, he was getting an extra day here and there to rest.
* * *
Joey piped up, "They're trying to wrist your stuff through the infield and into gaps. Surprise them with a fastball and curve, they won't know how to set up. That confusion will be deadly".
* * *
"We know who has tried to adapt and who hasn't. Those that still think they can hit your bread and butter will see nothing but them." The older catcher added.
* * *
"Howie, what are you thinking?" Joe asked his fellow coach.
* * *
"If they guess fastball and you throw one, get out the tape measure." Howie said. "Besides, how different is your move to the plate when you throw the heat. Are you giving a tell?"
* * *
Clay was first to answer."Good points coach, but if they are conditioned to hit a slow dancing pitch and then you show a different move, can they change their stance fast enough?"
* * *
This is what pitchers, catchers, coaches and player-coaches talked about all time. How do you get the edge? When do you throw what and to whom in what situation? Of course Clay had to run this all by Doc and Harmon first, but this is how ideas germinate. As they were making the last trip around the NL East, throwing this little wrinkle might mean the difference in crucial games. The league would have the off-season to adjust and by that time, it would be too late.
* * *
Instead of a morning run, Joe and Joey walked around Central Park and talked and talked some more. There was so much to fill in. Joe amazed his son with the behind the scenes story about "Average Joe". Joe was interested in his son's take on the whole phenomena. Joe listened intently as Joey talked about his fall and how he fell down again and again until he hit rock bottom. Joey was not bashful in giving Tom and AA credit for his sobriety. The mature and well-thought out explanations were emotionally gut-wrenching for both the DiNatale men to discuss. The walk turned into lunch from a hot dog cart by the softball fields.
* * *
"I think you will really like her Dad." Joey said about Pam. He had been taking baby steps with her since the flame ignited at Dorney Park. "How are you and Mom doing?"
* * *
"Your mother has some strange ideas of what love is. She felt that I abandoned her to go have fun, but it really started with kicking you out of the house."
* * *
"I'm sorry about that Dad, that is one of my biggest regrets."
* * *
"I know Joey, but parents have to agree on important stuff and neither one of us could compromise. A year later, she thought that she could withhold sex and used that as a weapon. Now that I've had some time to reflect, she always has used sex in our relationship to get what she wanted. I know this sounds harsh, but as teenage parents, we didn't get a chance to grow up emotionally before settling down. God knows I could have tried harder to make things work."
* * *
"What are you saying Dad?"
* * *
"Joey, I think things will be clear to you after the season. I am living out of a hotel in Philly until then. I am not welcome back at the house, nor do I want to go there right now."
* * *
Joey stopped eating and blinked.
* * *
"Son, your addiction just exposed the cracks in our marriage, it didn't cause this. We'll have more time to talk about it after the season. You love your mother cuz she loves you with her whole heart. She would never want anything bad for you."
* * *
Joey looked down at his mostly eaten hotdog and pretzel. Joe could see that now was not the time to mention that his mother was banging a guy that sells cars in town.
