Maybe it was the slower pace of the game. There are clear times for offense and times for defense in both sports, but football is constant running and action on the field. I preferred the longer season, fewer practices, and more games. And to be totally honest, I liked having my own identity separate from my brothers. I liked having something that was just for me. I liked having something that set me apart.
My high school coaches helped me fall in love with the game. They helped me perfect my skills. I wouldn’t be where I am today without them. To each their own. I love both sports. But I love baseball in a way where it’s the very fiber of my being. I never felt that same connection to football, not the way my brothers always did.
And now it’s being taken from me because of one goddamn signature on one piece of paper.
I head to the clubhouse, take a quick shower, and change. I pack my bags and head to the team bus set to drive us back to Vegas. I’m the first one on the bus, and I choose a seat by myself toward the back. I slip in myearbuds and turn my attention toward the window to attempt to ward off anyone from coming near me, but it’s a big failure.
Johnny Prater slides into the seat beside me. I suppose he’s my closest friend on the team, but it’s more out of necessity than anything else. He’s at center, I’m at left. We’re often running toward the same ball, and we’ve found a trust with each other, knowing if I can’t get to it, he will.
“You were on fire out there, man. Sucks about the league’s decision,” he says.
“Yeah,” I mutter, slipping out my earbud since it appears he doesn’t want to allow me any peace on the six-hour road trip ahead of us.
“What are your plans?” he asks.
“Troy told me to lay low and get out of town, so I booked a trip,” I admit.
He raises his brows. “Where to?”
“The Bahamas.”
He nods and grins. “Nice. Perfect place to crash bachelorette parties and late spring breakers. Mm, college chicks.” He wiggles his eyebrows, and I force a laugh for his benefit when the truth is that he might be into dating younger women, but I’m still burned from losing the only girl I ever loved.
“I think this trip will be more about recovery for me, but thanks for the suggestion.”
“We’ve got a two-day break after we play in Miami, so maybe I’ll hop a plane down and pay you a little visit.”
“Jesus, no,” I mutter. “Leave a guy alone.”
He laughs. “Right.”
As if they sense that I don’t really want to talk to anybody at all and prefer to act totally against my wishes anyway, Cooper Noah and Danny Brewer take the seat in front of me, and AJ Winters sits behind me, smacking the back of my head in jest. Duke Owens slips in beside him,and two of our pitchers, Rush Ross and Kyle Ortega, take the seat across the small aisle from mine. That’s seven of my teammates surrounding me.
“It’s just forty games, man,” Cooper says quietly. He’s a leader on this team, handpicked by Troy Bodine to play third when this team was added to the league. Cooper is the kind of guy who is respected by everyone he’s ever played with, and he’s been in this game for a long, long time. He’s thirty-six now, married with two kids at home, and he still plays the game like he’s in his early twenties. I remember watching him play in the early days of his career back when I was a teenager, and he was a hero to me. To play on the same team with him is a real honor and a privilege I don’t take lightly.
“It’s a slap in the face,” I say.
“Look, everyone here knows the truth. We all believe in you,” Cooper says, and the other guys surrounding us are nodding in agreement. “You’re a man of few words, but we all know you’ve been through some tough shit. The offseason was brutal for you, but in two months, you’ll be back with us. Just because you’re not on that field with us right now doesn’t mean you aren’t still a huge part of this team. Don’t forget that. We’ll be counting down the days until we get you back.”
“Especially me,” Johnny says beside me. “I’m going to be covering both centerandleft with Troy pulling up Cade Barrett.”
We all see Cade, the minor leaguer getting called up to play in my absence, as he walks onto the bus and sits up toward the front, and a little ripple of laughter fills the back of the bus from all of us. He’s a trained right fielder, but he’s on the forty-man roster, and he’s a good kid, a hard worker, and a hell of a batter. He’ll need to make some tweaks to take over left, but Johnny’s not exactly wrong. He’s going to have to pick up a bit of slack as he and Cade work on finding a rhythm together.
“Thanks,” I say quietly, and the final players board the bus as the driver starts it up and we head back toward home.
We all slip into our own zones, some of us watching movies, others talking quietly, and others playing on their phones or texting loved ones.
As for me, I put my music back on and stare out the window as I think about how this conversation made me feel an awful lot like I’m not as much of an outsider with my teammates as I thought.
CHAPTER 4: Archer Bradley
Paradise
It’s been a full day of travel, but as the car pulls up to the front lobby of the resort, it feels like it may have been worth the struggle just from how beautiful the outside is.
A valet opens the door to the backseat, and I get out and stare up at the place.
“Checking in, sir?” he asks, and I nod.
