“Thanks.”
Fletch waits for me to say something else. Then, “Sean, why are you calling me? Are you worried about what happens if it doesn’t work out?”
I pause. “No. I think I’m worried about what happens if it does.”
“I’m the wrong guy to ask about that, brother. I’d kill to be in your position.”
“Is life really so bad without baseball?”
Fletch breathes a heavy sigh. “It’s not just life without baseball. It’s life without a purpose. Baseball was my whole lifeformy whole life. My grandpa played until the draft and never played again. My dad was a walk-on in college. It didn’t pan out. My younger brother was an absolute beast. He’s the best player I’ve ever seen. Future Hall-of-Famer.”
Fletch has given me glimpses of his brother’s story, but he’s never told me the whole thing before.
“He got in a bar fight the night after the draft. He was the first pick of the first round and went out with friends to celebrate,” Fletch says, his voice sounding like an exposed nerve. “It was one punch. Some guy sucker-punched him, and he hit the pavement headfirst. TBI.”
I go still, heart clenching.
“He lived. He’s not in a hospital bed or anything. But it changed everything. He gets headaches and dizzy spells all thetime. He doesn’t process stress the same way anymore, either. And baseball? Gone. Totally off the table.”
“Man,” I say quietly.
“The guy got probation. Community service. Said it was just one punch. Said he didn’t mean to hurt anyone. And the judge bought it.”
He pauses, then adds in a voice that burns: “I was supposed to be the one who made it for all of us.”
“And you got injured.”
“Yup.”
My heart feels like it’s bleeding for him. “I’m sorry, Fletch.”
“I don’t know what to tell you, man. Take the chance. It’s probably your last one.”
“What about Kayla?”
“What about her? She’s tough and smart. She can handle being a sports wife. She can travel whenever and wherever she wants.”
“What if she doesn’t want to travel?”
“Then I guess you two will figure that out. Or you won’t.”
“That’s what I’m afraid of,” I say.
“You have that little faith in the woman you married?”
“It’s not that—” I start, but Fletch isn’t done.
“What are you looking for, Sean? Want me to say you don’t need hockey to be happy? I can’t. I haven’t been happy since my career ended.”
“Were you happy before that?”
He doesn’t answer for a long moment. “I didn’t call you, brother. You called me. You want to let your fears get in the way of your dreams? More power to you.”
“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that.”
”You’re fine.” He huffs. “Do what you want. But make sure you actually want it.”
Make sure you actually want it.
