Jason stuck his tongue firmly into his cheek and nodded. If he knew the truth, he wasn’t saying anything in front of anyone, but his reaction did make me wonder. Once everyone went back to their own conversations, he leaned in close and made an off-handed comment that Mason was a good guy, and then he was off to do his own thing again.
Once the rest of the team made their way up the stairs, four waitresses wearing skimpy referee outfits bombarded us. All of them seemed to have tugged their shirts a little lower and tied them tighter in the back in preparation for tonight. Waitresses counting on their assets to earn bigger tips, or something else altogether, seemed to be one of the few constants from one city to the next. It had never been appealing to me, but after six years with the Mavericks and spending half the season away from home, it was beyond old.
Mason: Quad is fine, just a bit tender. Feeling better already.
Knowing Mason was fine, I turned off the ringer on my phone and shoved it into my pocket. There was no one I needed to talk to right now, and I wanted to give my teammates my undivided attention. We needed this time together off the field if we had any hope of acting like a cohesive unit on the field.
Sitting around the table with the guys who were my family most of the year, enjoying baseball without having to worry about our place in the standings was an amazing stress reliever. It seemed most of the guys chose their winners based on friends who played for the other teams, and by the bottom of the fifth in the Bulldogs’ game, there were plenty of side wagers for everything from how many pitches it would take to end the inning to how many times the announcer would repeat a particularly annoying phrase.
“Hey guys, I’m heading back to the hotel,” I announced, hoping they’d take the hint and join me. No one had asked me to be the big brother of the group tonight, so I wasn’t going to push.
As it turned out, the only ones who heard me were Jason and Kevin, both of whom settled their tabs and followed me toward the front door. We were almost outside when pained groans erupted from the balcony.
I turned to see what the commotion was all about, only to see the instant replay of the Rattlers’ second baseman chasing Mason back to first base. He dove for the bag just in time, only to have his hand stomped on by the first baseman.
“Fuck, wait,” I called out to the guys. I walked up to the bar and ordered a shot of whiskey. He sat on the ground for a moment, cradling his hand against his chest. Ike Moreau, the team trainer, rushed out to first base and, after a quick look at the hand, he escorted Mason off the field.
“He’s going to be fine,” Jason assured me. He placed a hand on my shoulder and gave a firm squeeze. There was no doubt in my mind that he knew what was going on in my personal life, and I appreciated him for it. Injuries were part of the game, but it was somehow harder when it was Mason and he was so far away. I wanted to be there with him, to know what was going on. “I’m going to talk to Henderson for a minute. You take Kevin outside with you and see if you can get the cab to wait.”
A few minutes later, Jason slid in on the passenger’s side and the cab sped away from the curb. I’d told him we’d make it worth his while to wait, but he apparently either didn’t care or didn’t believe me, because the driver was obviously annoyed.
“Hey Kev,” Jason said, leaning over me. “We’re going to shuffle rooms for tonight. I have some shit I need to talk to Sean about, so Keith is going to come down to your room when he gets back to the hotel.”
“Um, okay.” It was hard to tell who was more confused, because this was the first I’d heard about switching rooms. I looked at Jason and he cocked an eyebrow as he shook his head slightly.
“It’s nothing personal, Kevin,” I assured him. “And you’ll like Keith. The only thing you have to worry about is him trying to drag you down to the lobby bar.”
Back at the hotel, Jason helped me pack up my suitcase while Kevin sat back on his bed watching us warily. I felt bad for the guy, because he was still unsure of his place on the team and the one person he gotten to know was leaving him.
“Hey, let’s meet downstairs for breakfast in the morning,” I offered. We’d be going home tomorrow, and I wanted to make sure he was set with a place to stay and the essentials until his belongings made their way across the country.
I’d never forget how much it settled my nerves when Hugh Oimoen did the same for me when I was first called up to the Nashville Ramblers. I had resigned myself to another season in the minors, only to get the call as soon as our bus pulled in to Missoula, Montana.
I arrived in Tennessee later that night with nothing but the clothes I had packed for a week on the road, but Hugh offered me his spare bedroom and bought me everything I needed to get by, on the condition that I returned the favor someday. Over the past decade, I’d done so every chance I got, giving the new players the same stipulation.
“Yeah, call the room when you’re up and getting ready and I’ll meet you down there.” By the time Jason and I left, Kevin didn’t seem quite as guarded.
“You going to tell me what this is all about?” I asked as we made our way to Jason’s room.
“Not yet,” he responded cautiously. He was acting strange, and I was starting to get nervous. My paranoia only grew when he looked up and down the hall before unlocking his room and ushering me inside.
“Sit,” he demanded, and I did because this was all a bit surreal.
“What’s up?” I asked.
“Okay, you can tell me if I’m off-base here, but is Masonreallyjust a friend?” he asked, pulling a chair from the desk closer to the bed.
My heart started racing and my palms were sweating. My first instinct was to play dumb, but I couldn’t do that. I wouldn’t lie, even if it meant there were consequences.
“No,” I admitted quietly.
“How long?”
“Not long at all,” I responded honestly. “You know we’ve always been close, but it wasn’t until I went over to his condo the other night that we started talking about anything more. Is it that obvious?”
Jason didn’t seem disgusted by my admission, which allowed me to relax a bit. If anything, he seemed pissed that I’d been sneaking around.
“It is to me, but that’s because I know you. Your mood completely changed after that night, and you looked ready to puke tonight when he got hurt,” Jason pointed out. “You’re different when it comes to him, but in a good way.”
