Page 9 of Wild Catch
“Tom,” I repeat. “You mean the head of the whole department?”
“That’s right.”
“And he already agreed to this?”
“Yep.”
Sighing, I take a seat and my shoulders sag. For the first time since I mounted what is basically a little social media coup, I feel some shame at having done it. I wouldn’t be inconveniencing my boss or my boss’s boss if I had just…
But no. Who knows what would’ve happened to Hope if I hadn’t put pressure on the organization with that video.
I’m sick and tired of seeing women be at the whims of the powers that be. I did the right thing and now I have to deal with the consequences, and that includes my chagrin right now.
“Of course I will sub in for you in Mexico,” I say at last.
“Great, thank you.” Dave straightens up and breathes out in obvious relief. “This is going to count positively toward your record, by the way.”
Well, that’s good to know, and certainly softens the blow. I had found the silver lining of my probation in that, unable to travel with the team again, this would’ve halved the amount of time I could spend with the team throughout the season. And that would’ve meant less sightings of a certain catcher.
After Dave leaves, I drop my face in my hands. Things just never go my way, do they?
CHAPTER4
LOGAN
Alot of people think I sit by myself during team travel because I’m antisocial—and yes, that’s true, but it’s not the main reason.
It’s because I’m claustrophobic as shit.
It’s one of the reasons why I took to playing baseball as a kid. From the home plate, all a catcher can see is an expanse of green opening up to the sky. With the ad boards and stands behind me, I can pretend like the world is fully open to me.
Can’t do that when I’m caged in a metal death trap along with a bunch of people.
Squirming, I lower myself on my seat to put my face at level with the open window. It’s so tiny that I can’t even pretend like all I’m looking at is the blue sky, lit by the relentless morning sun, tufts of white clouds floating along.
This is why my preferred transportation method is my Ducati bike. Yeah, I know it’s also a metal death trap, smaller than this airplane too, but at least I can feel the wind. It gives more of an illusion of control.
Which is the absolute last thing I have here.
“It’s not like that,” Miller says from the front, opening his hands until someone tosses a football back at him. He grabs it, placing his fingers in specific places along the seams. “Like this. This is how you put the proper spin into it.”
Behind me, the worst stooges of the whole bunch are in the middle of what sounds like a marital fight.
“I told you the rook moves like this.” Rivera grunts, followed by dull thuds. Probably him moving the piece.
“Well that’s not what the manual says,” Starr argues back. Some pages flip and he speaks again. “Look, you’re confusing it for the horse.”
Rivera huffs. “This game is way too complicated. Can’t we go back to playing Uno?”
“We need one more person and”—Starr interrupts himself to raise his voice—“Captain McGrumpy Pants in front of us is trying extra hard to ignore us today.”
I start box breathing. Usually I’d also pass the time with some games or reading a book, or making notes on my pocket notepad—but I’m not in the mood today. Today I want to punish myself.
The thing is, when you’re in the middle of a professional baseball season, there isn’t much opportunity to slow down and take things easy. This is why Kaplan and I called Rob Beau, the Orlando Wild manager, for a meeting as soon as we land in Mexico City. My agent will join remotely, but I’ll be there in person to deliver the news to Beau that we want to work on a trade. And it’s not like I’m scared of Beau or of having to put on my big boy pants for this chat—I’m a grown ass man who faced much worse in his childhood alone—but it is making me feel some type of way.
Like… guilty.
I know that Beau is counting on me to build up this team to something worth writing home about, especially the pitching staff. That’s the reason why he deserves to know my intentions before everyone else. But it’s almost like his expectations are what gives me some minuscule pause. None of my previous teams trusted me this much.
