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The Slammer – An Ever Growing Web Novel – Chapter 1.2

The smell of the locker rooms here at Holman Stadium was every bit as rank, and putrid, as the locker rooms of the Major league clubs were flowery smelling and well taken care of. This isn’t unusual to Chris and John, as they have been Major league scouts for many years amongst themselves. Walking into the locker rooms of nasty old double A teams has actually been a daily thing for John, to be totally honest with you for going on a little over 25 years. His obviously daydreamer attitude has held him back for quite a while now you see, but you can tell by the smile that he always carries, and the wonderfully kind nature that he displays to everyone that he also has never let the business get to him either.

The first marked difference between this locker room and the normal double A locker rooms though came in the form of a rather large journeyman first baseman, that everyone who is a fan of the Minor leagues calls “The Hurt” but in the real world people tend to refer to him as Jake Holcomb.

He probably wouldn’t have stood out at all since these two particular scouts have seen him with 30 different teams like everyone else, but this time he ends up pushing them back and saying, “The showers are off limits Lily’s in there,” which Chris and John immediately understood to mean that the name of the catcher is Lily, and they walked away without any questions. Rounding the corner, they see the person they really came to see, sitting alone on a bench in front of a locker that reads “Jay Franklin” with him simply staring strait ahead at nothing, no matter what crosses his field of vision. Chris immediately walks over to him, with his hand extended, saying “Hello, my name is Chris Thomas, and you must be Jay Franklin,” but the gesture got absolutely no response whatsoever.

Rather taken aback, Chris turned to look at John, for he had never been in the locker room of any baseball team and not been totally fawned over by any athlete he decided to talk to before. John simply shrugged, and walked off, presumably to find the manager, but you never know as John could simply be looking for free coffee. The thought even crossed Chris’s mind that John had finally found the baseball player that he truly related too, since he was never one for paying attention to anything either. With that though Chris did decide to sit down next to Jay and start talking to him anyway to see if Jay listened anyway.

“I have to admit, I haven’t seen anything like you since Nolan Ryan, and that was on tape kid,” he began trying to use the friend angle, which of course elicited no response at all, but he continued, “I would have said Roger Clemens, but to be honest with you I wasn’t as impressed with Roger as I was when I saw that arcing curve ball you did that made the batter duck down all terrified …”

“It’s called ‘The Slammer” by the fans around here … um … Mr.?” said probably the most beautiful voice Chris had ever heard, and the hand extended to it came from a woman that made the voice pale in comparison. The beautiful, blonde woman, with wet hair, wearing a t-shirt, jeans, and an obviously forced smile was standing there and Chris was totally mesmerized. This wasn’t going to be easy, because at best the only women he has ever talked to about baseball things are high school kids mothers.

“Hello, my name is Chris Thomas, and I was watching the game today, and I represent the Red Sox. Your brother is the most amazing pitcher I have ever seen …” he started to say, but was cut short by the laughter coming from Lily, and it actually caused him to start a different chain of thought out loud, which starts like this, “I can tell that laugh is from someone who has heard this identical shtick so many times that I am kind of a cartoon to you at the moment?”

“Well yes and no. I mean I have heard it, but this is the first time someone has actually tried to sell it to me. Usually they blow past me to Jay, or Bump. Actually once an agent tried to talk to the equipment guy about it all because the girl wouldn’t understand so although it is familiar; it is in a different tense coming to me.” And it’s too bad that the whole intelligent answer actually fell on deaf ears the moment that Lily licked her lips to start what she was going to say. The only saving grace that Chris really has going for him is as a scout he has to be good at looking at things in a less obvious manner, and it is less than obvious at the moment that all he appears to notice are a beautiful set of lips moving.

He does start to come out of his stunned sense of worship, out of sheer professionalism, after a long pause to say, “Well I think that I am talking to you because my associate over there exchanging baseball cards with the bat boy, talked me into the concept of perhaps trying to finagle our way into getting both of you into the triple A system, and going from there if you are interested, of course,” he looks toward her again, and tries not to look at her eyes, which is almost noticeable now, but she saves him by looking toward her brother.

“Hey Jay Jay, ya wanna go play baseball for the Red Sox?” she said kinda off the cuff, and it brought absolutely no response from him. After she stood there staring at him for a few minutes Chris was about to speak up, but she finally added, “Jay Jay, how about playing for the Red Sox huh?” and with that he looked right at the two of them, the blank stare was completely off his face, and he nodded with a smile on his face that was almost childlike in nature. “Well I guess we’re willing to go and have your boss laugh at you now.” She finished off with a simple giggle.

“Well I hope you are at least going to try to sell yourself?” Chris inquired of her as she started walking away.

She turned and walked back to him, stared him strait in the eyes and said, “I am a woman who plays a little boys game, with a bunch of adult sized little boys. If you look at my stats, you’ll notice that I play it a lot better than ninety five percent of them, and that includes the ones that are already on the Red Sox. I could simply drop my paperwork in front of any general manager and get a contract if I had a penis, and the fact that I don’t have one means that I AM that much better. Do you think that will work?” and poor Chris standing there totally dumbfounded just nodded out of instinct, because the rest of him was desperate to kiss her as she stood nose to nose with him. This thank God is the first time he has had to deal with this type of negotiations as well. “We like Applebee’s by the way, isn’t it customary for you scout types to take your new prospects out to eat?” she threw in to compliment her giggle once more … to be continued

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The Slammer – An Ever Growing Web Novel – Chapter 1.1

The audibly intense, almost violent sounding crack that fills the air is common place here at Holman Stadium, which coincidentally was the very first place that actually allowed the first professional black baseball players to play along side the white baseball players, in the racially segregated post World War 2 America. Here in the twenty first century it is merely a footnote to the history that is being made here again. It is the season opener here, and the fans are packed in as they always are when the pride of the team is on the mound, but other than that the park is merely a forgotten treasure in America. Out of the ashes of the forgotten field that the park had become over the last half century, two incredibly over dressed men were sitting in the bleachers off to the left of home plate holding a radar gun, and whispering amongst them.

The crowd here knows its role quite well as the silence in the park would be almost as deafening, had it not been for the hum of the PA system. The loud crack whenever the baseball would hit the leather of the catcher’s mitt, seemingly with the force of a .357 magnum yet feared far more than that, as you can tell from the man standing so awkward, so alone, beside the plate awaiting his punishment for daring to face the far more imposing man sixty feet away. People around the two men kept trying to shush them up, every time they would whisper, and it was amazing the gospel of watching a pitcher go into his wind up as it was imposed upon you by the rest of the fan base.

The older of the two gentlemen fumbled around with the radar gun a bit more as the younger, and obviously more important of the two men, stood up with the rest of the crowd, just as silent, and equally in awe of the “Adonis Like” figure standing in the middle of the diamond. His towering frame, and his blank stare that is everything that a community would not so secretly yearn for in the man controlling the sacred defense of the home town warriors as he mercilessly beats back the failing offense of the enemies that dared to come to our home in hopes of glory. Glory that has never been found when facing this sacred defender of the holy temple of baseball, that the town people of Nashua have so greatly enjoyed looking up to. The defender of this great palace shows not a hint of emotion as he receives his weapon from the plate, and stands far more towering as the younger gentleman, see’s his outline marked in the setting sun, about to make prey of this victim yet again.

The very look of intent on this man, this God, as he sets forth his windup, body arching back, hands full extension, glove hand pointing downward, yet towards the terrified man who dare face the mighty Thor, bearing only a wooden stick that so timidly rests upon his weak shoulder. The hand clutching the fierce bolt of lightning to be launched upon this lunatic David, without the aid of God, sets back for what seems like an eternity as his tree trunk of a leg slowly rises toward the sky. Again the younger gentleman in the crowd looks upon this with the awe of a child at his very first baseball game, and the total silence that sets upon the field creates the drama needed to understand what is about to happen. The two men have been witnessing it for over an hour now, but with each pounding of the sacred sphere, it gets a little more awe inspiring then the last.

With the force of thousand horses, the awkwardly positioned young Hero set forth on a violent sweeping thrust forward that shot the mere baseball forward with such force that in the silence that the audience provided, you could actually hear the searing noise of an object moving faster than the air around it could usually allow. The sonic crack that the freshly hurled baseball made was instantaneous, as the crowd rumbled into thunderous applause, before the umpire could even raise his hand to signal that another enemy, the LAST enemy for this day, had been vanquished by the mighty God like entity that still stands there as if he is expecting the baseball to be thrown back to him.

The older of the two gentlemen in the crowd holds the back of the radar gun toward the gaze of the younger man, as the entire team surrounds the man in the middle of the diamond, who still hasn’t changed that stone like look on his face. The digital readout on the back of the gun had three numbers, a one, a zero, and a five, in that order to be exact, and the older gentleman finally speaks out to the younger, with “Ninety Seven pitches and he ends the game with a One hundred and five mile per hour fast ball that totally paralyzed that guy,” but it appears to have fallen on deaf, or at the very least confused ears. Shaking his head he starts to put the equipment back into the briefcase.

The younger man clears his throat, and begins to start what he appears to hope will be a lucid sentence, but you can tell that there is a little confusion, or maybe it is concern at this point upon his face, but no matter as he says out loud, “This kid has been striking out over 150 batters a year for 2 full years now, and why are we the only two scouts here John?” after looking at the face of the other man that is so obviously now trying to avoid his stare, he then adds, “Don’t get me wrong, that was the most impressive thing I have seen in all of my years of baseball, so I assume that whatever the hell his baggage is, it’s really bad, and I better know before I go put my head on a stake to get this kid in a Red Sox uniform.”

John, the older of the two, timidly starts his reply to what was so expertly deduced from his supervising scout with, “Well he has a few quirks that need ironing out, like … um … he’ll only pitch for the catcher you saw out there with him today, which could present a problem,” and he then went about frantically trying to get the stuff put away again.

“I can’t see that being to much of a problem, that guy was a pretty good catcher, most teams have allowed really special pitchers to drag a catcher along with them if he is at least …”

“She” John interrupted as his boss looked upon him with that look of “Excuse me?” upon his face, thus forcing John to add, “It’s his sister, and he refuses to pitch for anyone other than his sister, well … kinda …” he trails out a bit, like he knows more, and the younger man refuses to acknowledge a thing until he continues with his tail, which he finally does, “He’s severely autistic, and he won’t acknowledge anyone else. I talked to the manager, and they tried every catcher they could get their hands on. It stopped being an issue anyway, since this is independent double A ball in Podunct New Hampshire, nobody really cares, and as you said, she’s actually a great hitter with excellent catching skills, but …”

“But it’s still a total waste of my time to try to be watching a pitcher who is mentally handicapped and his sister playing baseball, no matter how good they are!” the younger man shouted back at him, almost creating a scene with the crowd that is still around them, and obviously NOT very happy with someone making brash statements about their deities around here.

“Look Chris, I realize that it seems that way, but this is a tandem that is a guaranteed 20 wins a year to the ball club, and that is really all that matters. This isn’t the 40’s anymore, and bullshit like this shouldn’t be an issue anymore. I’m sorry but I am a sixty two year old guy, who should be the one here who cares irrationally about these things, and I don’t, I just love the game, and I love watching both of them play. I felt like I was watching Satchel Paige and Josh Gibson, the first time I saw them, and I want to give the world that gift!” … to be continued

Her enlightenment happened when she was out walking her child one day and noticed all the SUVs on the road, and then was struck intelligent {in her mind anyway} by how these things are just polluting and wasting gas. I am going to let everyone in on a little secret about Global Warming, The Sky Falling and other assorted Insanities that people who somehow became famous enough to get a microphone in front of them, or follow the news media’s agenda will never get … 70 percent of the United States {according to Gallop} don’t CARE! It’s quite simple really as I got to thinking about the wonderful representatives of TSIFAIOF {The Sky Is Falling And It’s Our Fault} if you all didn’t fall into 3 distinct categories then perhaps you would be taken seriously.

1. The Totally Off The Wall Nutbags – This includes such wonderful representatives of the human race as Ed Begley Jr. who {at least I will give him credit for taking the steps in his own life at least} is so freaking insane that NOBODY has taken him seriously in forever. When anyone see’s him talking about the environment they totally shut themselves off from it, because there is a serious fear that you can catch whatever the hell it is that he has by contagion!
2. The Total And Complete Liars – Such amazing representatives of the human genus like Michael Moore are very funny at first, but after a while the outrageous shit that he says does have to be looked into by about half of the people who actually like him {he’s fortunate in the fact that the other half are too lazy} and what ends up happening is that you quite easily find out that he has never let the truth get in the way of a good line of hatred. The liar jerk even had an Oscar taken away from him {from the people who would love nothing better than to sell his BS, but still had to worry about their own credibility … again the 50% of the Academy who went on to read about things} for fabricating things that he was selling as fact. It’s called propaganda, and again THAT will turn away people from what might be a good argument.
3. The Totally Fraudulent and Disingenuous – Here is where Ms Laurie David comes in. Her obsessive ramblings about what YOU and I can do to save the environment as she drives around in her Hybrid automobile to show us all how wonderfully enlightened she is. Nobody talks about how she drives that Prius over to the Airport and hops on that G5 that seats about 20 people at best and burns up at least TWICE the amount of Jet Fuel {Kerosene} that any normal Passenger Planes use and Jets back and forth from East Coast to West Coast SEVERAL TIMES A MONTH! One of those trips puts more dangerous greenhouse gasses into the atmosphere than a Chevy Suburban driving the whole way! This is the type of shit we are so desensitized to thanks to the John Kerry’s and the Al Gore’s whining about pollution before they get into their armor plated SUVs which get HALF the gas mileage of one that you or I could buy.

This shit in general pisses me off. I could go on and say that I actually believe in Global Warming myself but that would be self defeating, because I am not following a bunch of lying, hypocritical lunatics anywhere. My whole system these days is totally shot, as I am starting to believe that it is possible that I draw my little pictures, and I sit in my little e-mail groups playing the “one liner” game because the amount of stupidity that goes around today is hard to deal with, and then I think I am crazy for seeing it differently.

On a couple of other notes … The Massachusetts court system finally got an answer to the question of whether or not prisoners in Massachusetts prisons that are convicted of child molesting are allowed to write offensive kiddie porn stories, and send them to whomever they want, and are even allowed to make a profit on it. It is now in the books in a Boston courtroom that it is a RIGHT of prisoners to write stories about raping children, and they are allowed to send them to prisoners in other prisons. YAY MASS!! Before we get up in arms about how the Politicians, and the lawyers, and the whomever, let me stress to you that it was A JURY. This means that 12 people who are just like you and I who were hand picked by lawyers on both sides decided this, so blame what people today are learning. I have said it before and this proves it. We get EXACTLY the government we deserve.

Antonin Scalia was in town a few weeks ago and he went to church services, where he did the under chin brush to a reporter {common Italian gesture for “I don’t have time for you” or “Go away you bother me”} and the feeding frenzy by the news media over whether or not he disrespected the church, and the way that he should be disbarred or what not is downright comical, especially considering that it is totally coming from a pile of anti-God, anti-decency, left wing Zealots that only want to cripple a Supreme Court Justice that happens to be very conservative. Makes you wonder why politicians are disingenuous. Perhaps it’s because everyone makes them that way, by picking apart the very way they take a shit even. Wish they would start doing that to the shit that occupies Hollywood, that gets paid to pretend, and gets treated like what they have to say is important or intelligent, when all they have proven is that they are good at pretending. I think I know how the world gets so confused now ;8o)