Page 5 of Draft Pick
It’s a good thing I already finished my wine, or Val’s pretty white blouse would be painted ruby red. “I’m sorry, what did you just say? An anaconda?” I choke through laughter.
“You heard me.”
I bat my eyes. “Pic or it didn’t happen.”
She scoffs, reaching for her phone, but I stop her hurriedly. “No. No. No. That’s really okay. I take it back.”
“Don’t say I didn’t warn you.” She shrugs, and a sense of hope washes over me. Valentina may be a certified nutcase most days, but she’smynutcase. My closest friend. And finally being in Atlanta with her, my new home, feels thrilling. I’m excited to build a life here. A life founded on my new future and things I genuinely want for myself.
I reach for the wine glass in her hand and place it on the dresser beside us. Pulling her in for one last hug, I tell her, “No baseball players with big thighs for me. Noted. But don’t write out all the other singles in the city. I’m ready to shop around. And not just window shop, babe.”
Val’s long, blonde curls flip softly, nearly landing in my mouth as she lifts her head. One of the burdens of being tall is towering over the shorties, whiffing hair on the daily. “Shopping, I can do. Or test-driving. But we’re not purchasing, refinancing, or any of that shit. Shop, test, return to sender. In that order.” She winks.
If the opportunity calls for it: Shop for said baseball players. Test said baseball players. Then return said baseball players. Got it.
“I will not adopt an anaconda. You have my word.”
2
CREW
“Strikers! Strikers! Strikers!”
“Alright. Everyone, settle down. You played well. Don’t go expecting a cold beer and pat on the back waiting for you. We’ve got a long ways to go, and if last season was any indicator of how downhill things can turn, a shit ton of brutal training hours are in your near future. So, save the cheers for the wins that count,” Coach Leggins announces through the Strikers’ clubhouse.
“Way to be a buzzkill, Coach. We’ve dominated this spring training. That counts for something,” Kingston, our team’s starting shortstop, contributes. Truthfully, I’m surprised he spoke up. Kingston is the one who mediates and avoids confrontation with jokes and inappropriate commentary.
He’s the peacekeeper.
I, for one, try to keep to myself unless spoken to. It’s easier that way. As much as I love the game and I’m stoked for the Major League season to start, being away from my little girl never gets easier.
In fact, this year seems to be the hardest of them all.
“I say it like it is,” Coach responds to King, eyes swinging across the clubhouse while we decompress from our final spring training win. “I expect the very best. I’ve been too lenient. Thatstops today.” A look of pain and somberness strikes his features. Coach Jack Leggins is the OG Atlanta Striker. He’s been around Makers Park longer than most of us can say. The majority of the team—aside from a few—have been drafted through multiple teams before signing with Atlanta.
Leggins also happens to be going through the hardest season in life right now, an event that, unfortunately, was predicted, but no less difficult to face. It makes sense for him to be short-tempered and quick to retaliate. He’s a shell of what he used to be and refuses to talk to anyone about it.
He’s got all of us worried.
I miss the Coach who once went for beers with the guys after a loss and invited us back to his place to binge UFC fights. Most of the team knows the reason he’s changed, and that’s why we don’t say shit about it. But Kingston must be feeling some type of way today.
August “Gus” Graves, our third baseman and my closest buddy, speaks up, “Respect, Coach. We’ll do better this season. This team means everything to us. We’ll pull through for you.”
Coach nods, and the room falls silent. I spin my phone in my hand, my mind anticipating an important phone call from my daughter’s mother while also taking the time to search out my teammates. It’s been four years since I returned to the Major Leagues from a short hiatus. After my daughter, Adeline, was born, the only thing that mattered to me was being a present father.
I spent most of my time off being a stay-at-home dad, grateful for my previous playing salary to support me through it. Not only that, I finally got to fulfill my lifelong dream of opening up a restaurant. Aside from Addie,Boone Urban Bar + Restaurantis my pride and joy.
I’ve always been a people person and was fascinated with the idea of being a place strangers came to unwind. Good food. Goodatmosphere. And even better company. That’s why I’m picky about who I hire and what comes out of my kitchen.
I built it from the ground up, Addie’s stick-figure character drawings at two years old etched into the concrete foundation. Those two years off from baseball gave me the opportunity to find myself. Discover the new me as a father and new business owner. I’m proud of the growth I made during that time.
Getting back to the game was only a matter ofwhen. How has it already been four years? Addie is now six with a sass, pushing sixteen. Gone are the days when we went to the park in the mornings before nap and ate endless bowls of macaroni and cheese tossed in BBQ sauce. Taught her that combination myself.
She’s all grown up. Or at least it feels that way.
Which is likely what leaves me with far more time than I’d appreciate to dwell on what I’m actually doing with my life. Who would have ever known the life of a first grader would be so busy? Not me. Hell, her schedule is more crammed than mine—dance recitals, tutoring, school performances, and book club. Yes, my six-year-old is in her very own book club.
Times are changing, which only makes me feel like I’m missing out on everything. There are too many eggs in my already small basket to juggle.
