Page 4 of Nailed at Home Plate

From a sensible aspect, it wouldn’t be the end of the world. My yearly salary was in the very healthy eight digits. Not that I did much with it aside from putting it into savings and investments.

I kept a somewhat modest penthouse that I bought outright near some wetlands on an offshoot of the river over the bridge in New Jersey. The commute was a bit longer, but I liked the quiet time to zone out. The views reminded me a bit of my hometown in North Carolina. The only thing that I did manage to sink some decent money into was a top-of-the-line pickup truck with all the bells and whistles. It was safe to say that I wouldn’t have to worry about work after baseball was over.

But I didn't want baseball to be over. I never wanted it to be over.

If I knew what was holding my body back from its condition pre-surgery, I would have already done everything in my power to rectify it. As soon as I was cleared by the doctor and trainers, I was back in theweight room. Everything pointed to me healing perfectly. So what fucking gives, body?

“If you want to stay in this organization, I highly suggest that you take their offer. I’ve had guys let go for less.Muchless. They see something in you that they want to keep.”

“Yeah, but they don’t like me enough to throw me to Triple-A. Hell, Single-A even. Instead, I get drop-kicked to the bottom of the barrel.”

“Only because of your prestige.” I stop pacing and glance at Tom, who still looked hopeful. With a sigh, I collapsed back into the desk chair I’d gotten up from. “Heck, maybe you can do what they’re asking and boost attendance in the first week. Then maybe you’ll be back here in two weeks. Tops.”

I shot Tom a look that said all he needed to know. I wasn’t buying any of the kiss-ass shit he was offering. Even if I did boost attendance numbers, I still needed to getmystats back to, well at least near, where they used to be before my knee started giving me issues. That was the major hang-up here for me.

“Look, just give it a chance. Maybe it will be something you can do in your sleep. Fewer games, shorter games, more rest. Think of it as a mid-season vacation where you still get to play ball.” Tom stood slowly with a nod. “Just make sure you give the team their answer before the end of the day.” With that, he left the room. I was all alone with my thoughts.

If only it was as easy as everyone kept telling me it was going to be. It was almost as if they were spoon-feeding me shit and calling it chocolate. A change of scenery was not going to be the answer. Being thrown onto the Sillys was going to be morelike a total shock to the system. Maybe, just maybe, it could turn into something good.

Or maybe it was really going to be like a shit show.

As much as I hated their offer, I wanted to keep my position and stay in Philadelphia. If that meant jumping through hoops like a trained circus monkey, then so be it. Philadelphia was the first place that felt like home since I started my professional baseball career. Even if coming back to the East Coast wasn’t under the best of circumstances.

I jumped from college ball to the San Diego Padres minors’ farming system, to the majors for a few seasons, only to be ultimately traded to Philadelphia. I dated on and off in that time, but it wasn’t until I found a home in San Diego that I saw myself maybe settling down. My last girlfriend, Vanessa, and I had been together since right before I was called up to play in the majors. We made a home out in California and life was, well, content.

Unfortunately, professional ball was an unforgiving bitch. A player was there for ownership to do what they could for a team to get a win. If the franchise said you’re being traded, you can’t bitch about it. You can only say “Where to?” and “How soon do I need to pack?” You can be pissed or disappointed by it, but you had to follow where the money and contracts led to.

While I was excited to be back on the same side of the country as my folks, Vanessa, unfortunately, was not. My career and I weren’t worth the cross-country move. I did have to give her some amount of respect for breaking things off instead of leading me on through the whole sham of a marriage. So manyguys in this industry have been chased down by gold diggers and spotlight hounds. Shallow women with even shallower personalities.

I didn’t want a pretty woman with no soul. I wanted a real relationship. Something tangible. Something that would last forever. Something like what my parents have.

Sure, Dad razzed Mom every chance he could get, and Mom bossed him around to no end. But it was all in love. They were well into their early 60s, and I still caught them kissing at random intervals when I was home for a visit. Hell, they still went on dates, even as empty nesters.

Baseball wasn’t a money grab for me like it was for some guys. It was what I loved. I wanted a life partner who respected and appreciated that. But a woman who was supportive of this life was like finding that one home run ball that had soared clear out of the park into the parking lot beyond.

The schedule wasn’t for the faint of heart. I had no idea how some of my teammates played professional ball and juggled raising a family. It was a lot to even think about, but I was a bit envious of them. I always wanted a family. One day.

Now here I was, at the fucking terrifying crossroads of my life and career. Despite this shitty hand my career decided to deal me, I wanted to play ball. And I wanted to play ball in Philadelphia. Which only left one option.

Donning a new uniform and playing for the Philly Sillys.

Skin

SABRINA CARPENTER

“Ihonestly have no fucking idea how you deal with these guys on a daily basis,” Tiffiny mumbled to me from our current view of the field. For most of the games, I liked to wander around the stadium so I could see the dance routines from every angle. Making dance moves visible from most of the ballpark at any given time wasn’t an easy feat. Sometimes they needed to be tweaked or modified in some way or another until perfection hit.

“Why?” I snorted as I glanced at her. As much as I loved my best friend, sometimes her unhinged outbursts even took me by surprise. “If you ignore their antics, they aren’t that bad.” Most of the time it was difficult to have any sort of serious conversation with my fellow petite counterpart when she was still neck-deep in her mascot costume.

We were far enough away from prying eyes that no one would catch a glimpse of her as the headless mascot. My favorite vantage point in the park was the hidden mascot entrance because it constantly blasted cold air in the direction of the field to give Tiffiny a reprieve when she came for her usual breaks. Wearing a fuzzy padded suit, in the shape of the Liberty Bell, for a summer sport was no cakewalk.

“I feel like we have this conversation every season since I’ve been here. You must have invisible balls of steel to put those assholes in their place.” That sharp retort got me to laugh.

“Call it ‘tough love’.” Turning to her, I caught the glassy stare of her character’s hinged eyeballs, as the head of the mascot was tucked up under her arm. The cartoon-like slipper sneakers were always a hoot on her small feet. But the pièce de résistance was the fact that the damn Philly Sillys Liberty Bell mascot was named Ding Dong. I told the marketing team that they were geniuses when they showed us the concept.

Despite the rather goofy and delightful grin on Ding Dong’s face, the person inside was anything but. Tiffiny was charming in her special way. That is if you liked sarcastic abominable snowmen with razor-sharp teeth. But she sure as fuck knew how to charm the fans and get tons of laughs when she was in uniform. I joked a lot that she made Ding Dong into something like the Philadelphia Flyers’ infamous orange fur-covered mascot, Gritty’s, toxic and insane ex. She had a gift.

To the normal person, it seemed like a weird schtick. But to Sillys fans, she was an utter hit. The marketing team even set up a social media account for Ding Dong. Most of Tiffiny’s free time was spent coming up with more and more unhinged content. Even in the off-season. While most of us had a few months off, she had to do her best to keep the mascot, and the Sillys, relevant throughout the entire year.

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