Page 138 of The Baller

“Look, you have to take it slow with her. Even if they were just fucking or whatever you called it…”

“Cuffing,” interrupted Tanner helpfully.

Jupiter frowned. “Whatever. Even if they were doing that, it doesn’t mean she’s going to want to jump right into something else, especially with someone she’s going to see here every single day in the season. Do you really want to be dipping your pen in the company ink when you can’t escape?”

“You did,” added Tanner again, only this time, he was silenced with a stare from Jupiter that even Special Agent America wouldn’t mess with, including the snarl curling his lip.

“Marnie is not company ink!” he snapped, turning back to Parker. “You get what I mean?”

“No, I fucking don’t, and I’m not wasting another season just to watch her go off with someone else.”

Jupiter rolled his eyes again. “She won’t if you do it right.”

“I don’t know what that means.”

In what was an incredibly rare display of… well, anything… Jupiter put his arm around Parker. “If you’re going to see her every day, start with being her friend, behave like a gentleman. Hold the door open… shit like that. Be her friend, but whatever you do… don’t get friend-zoned.”

“Friend-zoned?” Parker’s eyes widened so far they could have almost fallen out. “How the fuck do I stop being friend-zoned?”

Unfortunately for him, and Tanner, who also seemed to be hanging onto Jupiter’s every word, we never found out the answer, because that was the moment Coach Chase decided to make his entrance, followed by the assistant coaches. Everyone stopped what they were doing and sat up straight, only to make themselves even straighter when they saw Penn Shepherd at the back. It wasn’t often Penn came into the locker room; he left the heavy lifting to Coach Chase, but today was Opening Day, so we should have expected it.

Coach stopped at the front of the room, his assistants fanned out beside him, while Penn Shepherd stayed to one side, arms crossed over his chest. Coach waited until there was absolute silence before shoving his hands deep into his pockets.

“Listen up! Today is the start of another long road ahead. A clean slate. The chance to move forward and remind our fans what we’re made of. We had some changes in the off season, but our presence was strong in Arizona, and we’re going into the regular season looking good and feeling even better.” He glanced slowly around the room, making eye contact with every single one of us until we felt the ice-cold blue laser stare he wasfamous for. “This year there is only one thought I want you to have, and it’s this – you are part of the team to beat. You are the ones to beat. If any other fucker wants that trophy, they will have to fight us for it. The New York Lions will be the team to beat come October. Understand?”

There was no translation needed. The New York Lions would win the World Series this season.

“Do you understand?”

“YES, COACH!” The cries of the twenty-six-man roster, plus everyone else, bounced off the walls.

Tanner punched a fist in the air and whooped, a couple of guys began swinging sweat towels around their heads, and Stone Fields let out a whistle which likely deafened whoever was within five feet of him, seeing as my ears were ringing and I was across the room.

“Good.”

No one moved. Even when Coach Chase stepped back, we all stayed on the benches. We knew Shepherd was next. In the ten seconds it took him to push off the wall, the air thickened with anticipation. There weren’t many people who loved baseball as much as Penn Shepherd. The New York Lions was his club, he’d brought us together and revived us, rescued the Lions from the bottom of the standings where it seemed we were permanently stuck. Since he’d taken ownership, we’d made it further and further into the postseason calendar.

We all knew that whatever Shepherd was about to say would echo Coach, and more so.

His arms unfolded and his hands pushed into his pockets as he looked around. “This year, boys. This is the year were going to take home that trophy. For most of you, this is our third year together… and we’ve been getting closer to the prize. But this year… you will do it. I know you will. I can see it in your eyes. I can smell the hunger you have to win, and taste the champagne we’ll be drinking when we do. New York doesn’t have enough champagne for the amount we’ll be pouring.” It was so quiet when he stopped talking, you could hear the beads of condensation dripping off Ace’s water bottle and hitting the floor. “Now go out and bring us back our first win of the season!”

Tanner let out another loud whoop which set of another round of cheers, until Stone Fields jumped up on the bench, tipped his head back and howled an ear-splitting war-cry.

Penn waited, grinning with the coaching staff as the cheering turned to a low mumble rippling through the locker room.

“Oh, one last thing… Weston, your girlfriend’s here, in case you wanted to know,” he smirked.

It was a toss-up between gritting my teeth and breaking out into the smile I reserved for Radley, becausefuck me,she would be here for Opening Day, and today would be the first time she’d ever seen me playas my girlfriend.

No one heard my groan, because the whistling started up again just like it did every time Radley was mentioned.

Loud wolf-whistles.

If I’d thought I’d get away with dating Radley quietly because it had been off season, and because I’d introduced her to most of the guys at Stone’s New Year party, I was very wrong.

First day of spring training, everyone wore President Andrews masks. Every single day after that, Hail to the Chief was played whenever I took the field. The boys took much delight in letting the Phillies know they were one fan down. The media delighted in it too, given ninety percent of their headlines had something to do with Radley and me, because since New Year, I’d moved firmly off the sports pages and into the gossip and entertainment section.

Safe to say, I wasn’t a fan.

---