Page 17 of Leave It On The Field (Grand Slam 3)
ChapterSix
SEB
October 29, 2022
When the elevator door opens, Butch saunters into the suite.
“Put me in, Coach,” he says, mimicking a home run swing. “Just get me a uniform and a glove. I’m ready to play.”
“No one wants to see your old ass trying to play baseball,” I say as I walk over to shake his hand.
Nash, Mason, Millie, and Raine follow him into the suite with Joe pulling up the rear.
“Hey, man,” Mason says. “You ready to go?”
“I would be more ready if they would let me stay with my wife the night before the game like I’m an adult.”
“Yeah.” Nash gives me a fist bump. “What’s up with that? Sounds more like college than the pros.”
“Our general manager is a micro-managing pain in the ass. He thinks this will help us focus.”
“Damn,” Butch says. “You had your best season ever. If you focus much more, there won’t be a record in the books that you don’t break.”
“This suite is unbelievable,” Raine says, spinning around to get a full view. “In fact, this entire hotel is amazing. Roman definitely knows how to do Art Deco. I love the black and gold with splashes of that rose color. It’s the perfect combination of masculine and feminine, right?”
Everyone stares at her blankly. She sighs as she walks over to examine the wallpaper more closely.
“I have no idea what she’s talking about, but we really appreciate the accommodations,” Mason says. “We would like to pay you for the rooms. The front desk guy said we only had to pay for incidentals.”
“You can’t pay me for the rooms.” I motion for them to sit in the living room area. “I didn’t pay for any of it. The team bought out the entire hotel.”
“Then we should pay the team back,” Butch says. “Maybe that will make the little bald man with the wire-rimmed glasses settle down.”
“That’s our GM,” I say. “Roman said he yelled at you. I apologize.”
“Doesn’t bother me,” Butch says, shrugging. “I’ve been yelled at by bigger and better. I just don’t want the little guy to have a stroke. The veins were bulging out of his forehead. I thought they were going to blow. We should probably at least offer to pay.”
“Why? I thought you were playing for the team now,” I say, laughing. “If that’s the case, we owe you a salary, right?”
“You would be lucky to have me. I was king of the hot corner in high school,” Butch says, sitting down. He points to the snacks and drinks the hotel set out on the table.
“Yeah, help yourself,” I say. “So you played third base, huh? It all makes sense now. I’m sure you got hit in the head with plenty of line drives.”
Butch grabs a handful of pretzels. “Naw, I have quick reflexes. I’m like a ninja.”
“A drunk ninja, maybe,” I say, pointing at Nash. “If anyone from this group could still play, I’m guessing it’s you. Did you play a little college ball?”
Nash shakes his head. “I went right into the Army, but I was a catcher like you all through high school. Well, I mean not like you in skill level, but I was okay. I couldn’t even attempt it now. I messed up my knee in service.”
“Mason,” I say, pushing the ice bucket full of beer over to him, “how about it? You look like you would be a natural first baseman.”
“Naw,” he says, twisting the top off a bottle. “I was a football guy—quarterback.”
“Of course you played quarterback,” Butch says, rolling his eyes. “There’s no way you could do anything without being the one in charge.”
“Okay, are you guys done flexing?” Millie looks around at us. “Maybe we can talk about Sophie now.”
“Right to business,” Joe says from behind me. “All of this testosterone but no one can tell me she’s not the one in charge.”
