Page 57 of The Show

Penn leaned over me and backhanded Buck’s arm. “Nice one, man.”

“Oh, Buckie loves The Lions,” swooned his wife.

Penn’s eyes opened wide, eyebrows disappearing into his hairline like he’d never heard anything so preposterous, “Really?”

“Oh yeah, man, greatest team on earth,” Buck replied. “Don’t you agree?”

I nudged Penn before he started on his rant about them being the worst club in the world or whatever it was. He looked at me, then back at Buck.

“Yes, but I mean, this season…”

“Oh! Don’t even get me started.” Buck dropped his head and I found myself swiftly yanked out of the warmth of Penn’s arm by Mrs. F.P., only for my place to be taken by Buck so he could talk in depth about The New York Lions’ current season and everything that was wrong with it.

“Marla, hun, let’s leave the boys to talk. I’m Shelley, by the way.”

I just about stopped her from pulling me into a hug - and her ample bosom.

“Oh, that’s okay. I don’t mind.”

In what might have been a first for me, I wanted to listen to men talk about sports. I reasoned to myself it was my job, not because I wanted to be back under Penn’s heavy bicep with the heady scent of dark oud seeping into my skin and imprinting in my memory banks.

“Trust me, when Buck gets on a roll about The Lions it’s hard to break in, and if I’ve heard it once I’ve heard it a hundred times, especially this season.”

Between Buck and Penn, then the tour guide, there was too much information being given out at once, so I resigned myself back to the conversation with Shelley.

“What’s been happening this season?”

She looked at me like I’d arrived from another planet and was asking for directions back to the nearest galaxy. “How’ve you managed to escape it? Surely Chet’s been going on about the manager all season? Or at least since they got rid of him and haven’t replaced him. If you’ve escaped all the drama like it was the worst thing in the universe, you need to tell me how you’ve done it so I can learn.”

“Oh,” I laughed nervously, “yes, Chet is pretty good at keeping sports talk to a minimum in the house, especially around our… daughters.”

Yep, just given us a pair of girls. Two could play at the fake family game. I turned back to Shelley before I started imaging what Penn would be like as a father. Amazing, no doubt.

“Try living with three teenage sons,” Shelley chuckled, but from her tone, I don’t think she’d change it for the world. “They’re all obsessed with The Lions.”

“So how is Buck such a huge fan when you’re don’t live in the city? How far have you come?”

“We live in Florida, but Buck grew up here - not far from this stadium actually. He used to come with his pops and grandpops. He loved it because they loved it. It was their life for eight months of the year, and he wanted to give that experience to our boys, too. They’re both gone now, and that enjoyment lives on through our boys.”

“That’s lovely.” I was starting to learn that baseball was so much more than just a game. If Penn’s history was anything to go by, it seemed Buck and Shelley were of the same mind too.

We walked a little further as the group moved on, although the four of us had found our way to the back of it.

“Just after the First World War ended, the old Baseball Commission decided there should be three teams in New York, except they didn’t want to start from scratch building one, so they went to Columbia University and promoted the university baseball team into the MLB, which caused a whole heap of red tape and problems, as you can imagine. Eventually, they got what they wanted, including this stadium…” he waved his hands round, “or parts of it anyway. This stadium has been completely rebuilt, but…” he pointed behind him to an old stone wall, with a large wooden door I hadn’t noticed before now, “that door and stone frame is from the original stadium build in eighteen seventy-three, and both of them were originally part of King George’s palace in England.”

There were severalwows, along with moreoooohsandahhhhs.The guide’s face was brimming with pride as he continued.

“We are the only team in the MLB with royal heritage, and that’s why King George’s statue is unofficially our mascot, and his pet lion is where our team name comes from.”

I’d known nothing of The Lions before this weekend, but it was a really cool story with a very colorful history. It was also something to be celebrated, and I hadn’t yet seen any evidence of that beyond what I’d just learned; not even in their current logo, no lion, nothing royal, nothing illustrative… nothing at all that stood out to tell their story.

There was a lot to work with here.

I glanced around; everyone was laughing and smiling as they talked amongst themselves. A few were having their picture taken by the old door. A few were asking more questions of the guide. I looked over to where Penn and Buck were, still deep in conversation, and inched toward them.

Maybe if I was lucky, I’d be able to get back under his bicep. I took another step, now close enough to hear their conversation.

“That catch, man, I’m telling you, it was a thing of beauty. Must have watched it a hundred times.”

---