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My stomach drops.
No… no way.
With trepidation, I force myself to tap the linked article and continue reading.
A representative for the Minnesota Loons has confirmed the team will be parting ways with their starting pitcher, Corey Johnson. Johnson, who was drafted by the team nine years ago, has one year left on his contract and is just shy of accruing 10-and-5 rights where he would be able to deny the trade.
In the deal, the Loons will acquire reliever Yuri Santos, outfielder Jorge Gonzales, and Minor League right-hander Anthony Green in exchange for trading Johnson to the Lonestars.
Johnson and his team have been contacted for comment.
We will update the story as it develops.
I don’t know what to think. While trades are technically allowed the day after the World Series ends, most teams wait to finalize their lineups. A trade this early is rarely heard of, especially when one of the players is the pitcher who helped get Minnesota to the Worlds Series.
“This is huge,” Joshua states, shaking his head with a mix of disbelief and awe. “I can’t believe we’re going to get CoreyfreakingJohnson on the team.”
“What?” Morgan’s eyes fly to mine. Immediately, they fill with concern. She knows, more than anyone, just how shitty this is for me.
I swallow down the lump in my throat and shake my head, silently begging her not to say the words I know are hovering on her lips.
With an inhale, she presses her lips together and nods.
Whatever relief I feel from her silence is swiftly swept away when the guys continue to discuss the news amongst themselves.
“But Johnson is their Ace,” Kendrick Cohen, the outfielder, says. “Why in the world would the Loons trade him?”
“And after they just went to the World Series,” Joshua adds. “It doesn’t make sense.”
“I hear Johnson is a real piece of work,” our team’s catcher, Greg Winston, states. “I went to college with some of the guys on the Loons. They say he’s a loner and doesn’t care about anyone else on the team.”
I bite my tongue to fight the annoying urge to come to Corey’s defense. Even after what happened between us, the instinct to protect him is as strong as it was when I was twelve and he was fourteen and I overheard some kids calling him trailer trash. Corey Johnson is many things, but trash is not one of them.
“I’ve heard he’s an ass, too,” Joshua replies. “But he’s an ass who helped his team reach the championship game. If that’s not a reason to keep him on the roster, then what is?”
Debate breaks out between the players as they propose different reasons for Corey’s unanticipated trade. I tuck my phone back in my pocket and pick up my seltzer. I wind up drinking it in minutes, using it as a way to keep the buddingrebuttals from leaving my mouth as I overhear the guys’ theories. The last thing I want to do is reveal to the team that I know Corey. I don’t want to answer their inevitable follow-up questions.
“Did you know about the trade, Santos?” Lawrence asks the reliever, cutting through the noise of the others. Yuri Santos is a second-year player who started playing on the Lonestars’ farm team. He’s the only player who was listed on the trade that’s at the party. Jorge and Anthony went back to their hometowns shortly after the Lonestars were knocked out of the playoffs.
“None,” Yuri reveals solemnly, shocking the room. He wouldn’t have been able to stop the trade, but the fact he wasn’t even aware it was on the table is messed up.
The guys take turns patting Yuri on the back, sharing their condolences about what is, obviously, an unwanted move in his career. At least Yuri just had a kick-ass season relieving Lawrence when the older pitcher needed it. He’s made a name for himself and should be able to find success anywhere he plays.
Morgan inches closer to me and pitches her voice low, “You alright?”
It takes effort to keep my voice even. “Why wouldn’t I be?”
She raises a brow. “You know why.”
“Not here.” I look meaningfully at the crowded room. No one is listening to us, but that could change in an instant.
I see the desire to argue flicker in my best friend’s expression. She’s never been known for her patience, but she takes pity on me. “Fine. As long as you promise me that you’re okay.”
“I promise,” I tell her.
We both know it’s a lie.
I’m far from okay when it comes to Corey Johnson and what happened between us, and not even ten years apart could change that.
