Page 15 of The Third Baseman

“Girls at the gate throwing stuff, it got stuck on my window,” I groaned, tossing the piece of frilly pink lace in the trashcan as we passed. “Why are you here so early, anyway?”

“Hash browns,” he replied while patting his stomach and making me laugh.

On game days we didn’t officially have to be in until one p.m.

However, I was a terrible cook, and my chef had stayed in L.A. when I’d moved to New York, so every morning I was presented with the dilemma of how to feed myself. I hadn’t been in the city long enough to be comfortable going out in public, given the issue of my face being everywhere. Even if I did, coupled with the renewed interest in The Lions, it would take me twice the time to do anything with all the interruptions and requests for selfies and autographs.

And since my youngest sister, Emerson, lived slightly upstate with her three kids, I couldn’t bribe her to come and feed me.

All this meant, therefore, I needed to come to the club early. The plus side – I could squeeze a workout in.

“Me, too,” though I’d be sticking with the staple spinach and egg white omelet with turkey bacon, because the season meant I watched what I ate. The off season, however, pass me the share bag of M&Ms… that I won’t be sharing… “Hey, did you get into the grounds okay?”

“Yeah,” he nodded. “But those gates, dude…”

I held the door open and followed after he walked through. “I know. I’m going to talk to security, or I’m sending them the bill for the repairs I’ll need.”

He chuckled. “Knew I could count on you getting shit done! I like that the fans are excited though.”

“Yeah, just not at the expense of my car!” I huffed.

We both flashed our passes at the guards on the reception desk we’d stopped in front of, though it would have been just as easy to point to the enormous flags flying outside with our faces on.

“Good morning, Mr. Reeves, Mr. Fields. How can I help you?”

“Hey,” I started, leaning slightly over the desk, “is there something we can do about the fans at the gates? Can we move them back a bit? They’re banging hard on the cars when anyone drives in.”

“Yeah, it’s dangerous too, man,” added Stone. “Someone will get hurt.”

Yeah, that’s the angle I should have gone for – safety, not damage to my car. And this is why I had a reputation for being a self-centered prick.

The security guard, Pablo, considered us for a moment, then answered in a deep baritone. “Sure thing. Let me check with Mike, and we’ll get something figured out; maybe have some barricades moved back.”

“Thanks, man, we appreciate it.” I bobbed my head, trying to look as genial as possible.

“No problem. Good luck today fellas; should be an easy win.”

“Yeah,” I replied as we walked away. “Thanks, man.”

“God, I fucking hate it when people say shit like that. Like they actually know what it’s like to stand up at the plate and hit a ball traveling toward you at a hundred miles an hour,” Stone griped, his ever present cheery façade dropping.

A talented left fielder, we’d played against each other ever since he’d moved up from the minors seven years ago. He’d started at The Red Sox and then moved to The Astros before coming here. This was the first time we’d played together. Aside from seeing him at the usual sports award ceremonies and around the circuit, we hadn’t spent much time together, but he always garnered massive respect from everyone in the leagues due to his affable, happy-go-lucky demeanor while smashing out a home run, like he was swatting a fly.

I’d always had massive respect for him as a player, especially as the press loved him – unlike me.

“Yeah, I know.” I nodded in agreement. “You okay though?”

He took a large gulp of the water he was carrying, and dragged the back of his hand over his mouth. “Yeah, I’m good. Just had an argument with Carrie this morning is all.”

“Is Carrie your girlfriend?”

“Yeah, but not sure for how much longer,” he sighed, “Man, relationships are hard.”

Finally, a conversation about relationships I could contribute to. Because up until I moved to New York, I had categorically stayed as far away from them as I possibly could.

I had no interest in them.

All I wanted to do was play ball how I wanted, and anyone who got in the way of that could fuck right off.

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