Page 75 of Diamond Ring
“Yeah, this is a little like that. Everything feels new again.”
Charlie hums in acknowledgment, and Jake’s momentarily grateful for the silence as he breathes around the scratchiness in his throat.
“I guess stuff ends up different than how it was before,” Charlie says. “I have a, uh, buddy who basically had to relearn how to throw after blowing out his shoulder.”
A common enough story in the game, even if Charlie’s cheeks get an odd flush. “How’d that work out for him?” Jake asks.
“Pretty good. I mean, he retired a few years ago, but on his terms, you know?”
Which is about the best any of them can hope for who aren’t Charlie. “Yeah.”
Charlie, fortunately, takes his response for what it is, then closes his laptop and rummages in his bag, pulling out a paperback: Chaim Potok’sThe Chosen, its pages annotated with stick-on flags like he’s studying it. Weird, but maybe someone told him it’s a baseball book. “Can I ask you a question?” he says.
Jake gears up to be asked something about Judaism that might take a while to explain. “Sure.”
“What’s the difference between ‘kiddush’ and ‘kaddish’?”
Jake presses his eyes shut, briefly, mostly because whatever he was expecting, that certainly isn’t it. “One’s a prayer over food. The other is usually for mourning.”
Charlie nods. “Okay, thanks. I guess I could have googled that.”
“No worries.” And Jake finds he means it.
Even on a cushy charter plane, cross-country flights start to drag by hour two. Jake tries to sleep, then realizes he doesn’t have his travel blanket and that he can’t fully stretch out without accidentally kicking Charlie, until Charlie takes pity on him and moves to a different row.
His nap plans are further derailed when Alex comes over, carrying his duffel. “I figured we could review video.” He drops into the seat next to Jake and begins pulling out various things from his bag—an iPad, headphones, a rolled-up fleece blanket. “Had an extra.” Like he knew Jake would forget his.
Sitting next to Alex turns out to be both a great idea and a terrible one. Alex is in sweatpants, a hoodie that doesn’t hide his breadth, and Jake woke up with a belly full of static and wants nothing more than to fall asleep against him while watching a dumb movie. Something he’d feel easier about if Gordon didn’t give them both the eye as he strolls past, like he knows what’s going on.
Alex is right: they should review video. Because Jake’s previous start was spectacularly mediocre—four runs, a no-decision, a game the Elephants went on to win anyway—but the kind of start that might inspire the front office to make calls ahead of the trade deadline.
Nothing he wants to think about for a while. “Can you wake me up in twenty minutes?” Jake asks.
“Okay.”
Jake spreads the blanket across his lap, then slides a hand under it and picks at a rough spot on his knuckle. Goes to sleep knowing his problems will still be there when he wakes.
When he opens his eyes again, Alex is next to him, reading something on his iPad and frowning slightly. “They came around and asked what you wanted to eat. I told ’em the chicken since the other option is a cheeseburger. Probably still time to change that if you want.”
“How long was I asleep for?” Because it feels like more than twenty minutes has elapsed.
“About an hour. Seemed like you needed it.” Meaning Jake looks as bad as he feels, a suspicion that’s confirmed when Alex adds, “You still talk in your sleep.”
Which, fuck. “I say anything embarrassing?”
“My name. A few times.” Alex mostly looks smug at that. “I don’t think anyone else heard you. But you kind of... Are you feeling all right?”
Alex doesn’t quite ask it the way he might on the mound with an in-game impatience, and he doesn’t quite use the same tone that he would have ten years ago, like he might try to go fight the world on Jake’s behalf. It makes Jake inclined to be honest. “Felt off since I woke up. My arm’s fine. Head’s just kind of a mess.”
“We don’t have to review video.”
“No, I could use the distraction.”
Alex cues up a folder on his iPad, a set of pitching videos. “Asked D’Spara and the analytics guys to pull a few things.”
“Wow, you must really want to win if you’re asking the analytics bros.”
Alex lifts a shoulder. “I mean, yeah, kinda?”
