*Author's Note: Any and all persons engaging in any sexual activity are at least eighteen years of age.
This is not a 'Stroke' story.
SPRING TRAINING
"What? You've never seen Christmas Vacation? Dude, that is just Un-American!" Troy Duvalier yelled at Russell Jones.
"Shut up," Russell laughed. "Flipping hate Christmas; why would I want to watch a stupid movie about it?"
"Man, how can you hate Christmas?" one of the boys milling about asked, eight year old face twisted in shock.
"Nothing but a bunch of getting your hopes all up then big disappointment," Russell admitted, smiling tightly.
The other coaches gathered around and they each dug out the scraps of paper Troy had prepared to see who would pick first, second, third, until all six teams were completed.
"Okay, Bears!" Russell yelled. "Let's give a big bear roar! We're going to kick some serious butt, right?"
The sixteen boys gave a half-hearted 'roar' and then trotted out to Practice Field One.
"Dude, I'm the pitcher; I was the pitcher for the Lions last year," Manny Gomez smugly told Russell.
"Dude, I'M the coach, not you. And my name is 'Coach Jones' not 'Dude,'" Russell told the boy. "Right now, you're just another booger eater until I put everyone where they need to go."
Manny glared raw hatred at the twenty six year old, then glared at all the boys that laughed when Russell called him a booger eater.
He made the boys get in a large circle and just practice tossing the ball back and forth, then added a second ball, going in the opposite direction. The addition of the second ball did trip a few of the boys up, including the still scowling Manny.
"No, no, white ball going this way, yellow ball going that way," Russell laughed.
"This is stupid!" Manny declared.
"There is a big difference between opinion and fact," Russell told the sullen boy. "Your opinion is that this is stupid. The fact is that this is good practice for building up teamwork."
An hour into the practice, an attractive woman, dressed in a skirt and matching jacket, bright red hair in a large bun, strode purposefully toward Russell.
"You," she demanded. "I want my son on your team."
"Teams have already been picked, ma'am; Russell said, not turning to look at the woman.
"He is just sitting there on a bench," the woman snapped. "At least all of your boys are doing something."
"Teams have already been picked, ma'am," Russell again stated. "You don't like the way his coach is coaching, take it up with that coach."
"No," the woman said firmly. "I want him on your team. Now."
"Hit the bricks, lady. Now," Russell said .
The woman gasped at the brusque way Russell dismissed her and strode off, sensible pumps slapping firmly against the dusty ground.
"Oo-wee, you pissed her off," one of the boys giggled, watching the woman's progress.
"Not my problem Russell said, face tight.
He hoped that was the end of his involvement with Penny Richards, but it was not. An hour into the next practice, she stormed onto his practice field, again dressed in business attire, red hair in large bun.
"I want..." she started.
"Beat it, lady," Russell said. "No one here cares what you want."
"Now you listen here," she shrilled.
"No! You listen here!" he yelled back. "This is not court! This is my practice field! Here? Here, I'm in charge, not you. So, beat it! Get off my field before I have you thrown off!"
"This is not over," she hissed before turning and storming off.
"Man, you don't like her, huh?" Scottie asked, smiling up at Russell.
"Nope, sure don't," he admitted.
Manny rebelled at being put on second base and purposefully dropped the three balls that were thrown to him, allowing the runner to get to base.
"Hey, Manny, you're not the pitcher," Russell told the now smirking boy. "So, unless you want to ride the bench while everyone else gets practice time, I suggest you get with it, got it?"
"Hey Coach Jones, here she comes again," Scottie told Russell before they could even begin their third practice.
"No, no, no, not just no, but hell no," Russell said before Penny even had a chance to start talking.
"But why?" she asked, almost crying. "He's just sitting there! That Troy guy won't even let him practice!"
"Not my problem lady," Russell said.
"Why?" Penny repeated. "Is it something...?"
"You damn right it's something you did," Russell yelled. "You damn right! Eleven months! For the last eleven months, I haven't got to see my kid but for maybe five minutes! My ex-wife's living in a house I'm paying for, with her home-boy lover, with my daughter sitting there, but I don't even get to have her overnight! Why? Because my bitch of an ex-wife got the biggest man-hating bitch in the world for a lawyer! Want to know who that was? It was you! So, ask me again if I care if your son just sits there or not!"
Penny stood , mouth open in shock.
"Come on, guys!" Russell yelled, clapping his hands to get their attention (he had their undivided attention thanks to the screaming outburst). "Scottie! You're on third! Michael, yes you, going to have to start calling y'all Michael One and Two? You're at shortstop!"
He hoped that it was over, that Penny Richards would leave him alone. It was not; she was waiting for him as he got out of his battered pick up truck.
"God, lady, you don't have anything better to do?" Russell snarled at her.
"My son wants to play baseball; his father's been telling him he was a big time baseball player back in the day and Lucas is dying to be a big time baseball player like his dad and all he's doing is just sitting on the bench," Penny said, tears freely pouring from her eyes. "I've seen the way you train; you don't just sit on the bench like all the other coaches. You're right in the middle, showing them what to do. Please, please, hate me if you have to, but please don't take it out on my son."
"Hate you? HATE YOU?" Russell laughed bitterly. "Oh no, Lady, I'd have to cut my thinking in half to just hate you. I fucking want you dead. I want you to die a thousand times."
Penny stared at him in shock.
"I had a happy family!" Russell screamed at her. "Yeah, maybe we were a little fucked up, but I was happy! I had a sweet little wife and a baby girl I just loved to death. Then she meets up with some Homey and all of a sudden, I'm being dragged into court and some fucking cunt's telling the judge I've got Post Traumatic Stress Disorder and I'm a danger to my wife and kid. Next thing I know, I have to be supervised just to see my own daughter!"
Russell took a deep breath, then abruptly turned and walked away.
"Thank God!" he said, turning back around. "Thank God Troy knows me! He knows I wouldn't hurt a fly! That's the only way I got this gig; Troy knows I could use the extra money. Your kid's unhappy? Well boo fucking hoo, bitch! 'Because I'm fucking miserable!"
