Page 11 of Coach Me
When Miles turns around to come back to our seats, I mouth a “thank you” to Callie.
Miles gives me the silent treatment during takeoff. Considering he’s been on an extreme number of plane rides since birth, they’re really like nothing to him now. But despite what he thinks, he’s five, not twenty-five, so the appeal of the silent treatment wears off pretty fast.
“Dad, how do planes fly?”
Well, while thinking about how to answer Miles’s original question, he’s asked me at least three more.
“And why do we call them planes? Why do we have to stay buckled in a car but not in a plane? Where do the number ones and twos go while we are in the air?”
You know, if you would have told me that one of the main things you do as a parent is make shit up to answer your child’s million fucking questions, I may not have completely believed you. I mean, how much time could it possibly take, right?
Our team’s general manager—my boss—Jim Olsson chuckles in the seat across from us. “So many excellent questions. I can’t wait to hear your dad’s answers.”
Shit, me too. I feel like I can only confidently answer one of these questions. This may come as a shock to my five-year-old, but as a newly retired MLB pitcher I don’t know shit about the hows and whys of planes.
“Well, bud, why don’t we look up the answers and see what we can learn about planes.”
After pulling up a couple of articles, I read through them enough to bore Miles with factual answers. Turns out, my ways of learning aren’t exactly keen on my child, so eventually I pull out his small Spiderman headphones and turn on some video with the title saying something about kids and airplane education.
“Well, Dex, you did your best.” Olsson chuckles softly. “Granted, I think I missed the part about where our number ones and twos go? Can you repeat that part for me?”
Shaking my head, I look back at Miles to make sure his headphones are on good. “Respectfully, sir, fuck off.”
While it might seem crass to speak to my bossthat way, I’ve worked with Olsson for years. He coached me for over half of my career—mentored really. When I informed the Blues of my retirement plan, Olsson was just a coach, but the moment he became one of the top staff with the team, he called me up with an offer I couldn’t say no to.
“Oh, come on, Larsen, the kid’s curiosity is what makes him so great. Have you taken even a second to watch him talk to the team? With Callie? He asks insightful questions and is eager to learn. This wasn’t exactly where I meant for this conversation to go, but have you found anyone to help when he starts school this fall?”
Sighing, I run my hand over my face. “No, I haven’t.”
“Look, I swore to you Miles would always be welcome at every turn during this season. This is not me saying he’s not been great, but the stress of doing everything on your own is starting to show.”
“Gee, thanks. And here I was thinking I was handling this change pretty well.”
Is that why Blondie didn’t spare me a glance? Is it that obvious that I’m running on fumes?
Olsson snorts. “You are. I’m just saying, it’s hard being a single parent. Believe me, my daughter is grown now, but I was on my own through the teen years—just thinking about it and I feel like I could use a nap.”
I huff a laugh. “A nap sounds fucking amazing.”
“Have you talked to Kate again? Is she still hellbent on not helping?”
I shoot another quick glance at my son to make sure he doesn’t have any reaction to his mother’s name.
“I’m not getting into all of that with him around. In short, yes, she’s still hellbent. I mean, let’s face it, she wasn’texactly flexible when we were together, so now it’s just flat out no. Her one weekend only.”
One weekend a month and she’s stuck to it.
The time away from him is hell for me. I can’t even begin to understand how she does it, but I told myself no matter how angry she makes me, I’d never badmouth Miles’s mother in front of him.
Sighing, I glance at Miles again to make sure nothing’s changed and keep my voice low. “My mom said she could start helping take care of him again now that she’s feeling better after her double knee replacement, but I can’t put all the traveling and responsibility on her again.
“Then on top of that, he won’t be able to travel because of school and with this schedule we have…fuck, I’d only be home about a week out of the month. It was hard enough with him only able to travel half of the time when Kate and I were together, but now…I can’t do that—I just can’t.”
In truth, I didn’t want this retirement. Despite being thirty-six, I felt like I was still at the height of my career. The years with Miles growing up were tough. Kate hated the baseball schedule and rarely wanted to travel to away games, but with my mom’s help, we made it work.
But with factors coming into play—from the divorce to Miles needing to start school and all the details in between—retirement seemed like the only option.
It was probably selfish of me to take this job knowing everything I had to retire for would catch back up to me, but when Olsson made the offer and said it would come with the flexibility of Miles being my plus one to everything—and I mean every practice, event, meeting, game, you name it—I couldn’t find a way to sayno.
