The World Series

I'm giving fair warning; this is a baseball story. It has no sex and is not a BTB or a RAAC story. Some will argue that this is in the wrong category, but I would disagree.

When I grew up, baseball was considered the American pastime. In my mind, it was a kinder and gentler period in our history. Yes, I realize that there was systemic racism and horrible discrimination during that time. But we have come lightyears since the 1950s. We've had a black president for God's sake. And if you're going to send me hate email about how wrong I am about discrimination and racism, don't bother because I'll delete it immediately. Now, I'll get off my soapbox.

I have British friends who tell me that watching baseball is like watching the grass grow. Of course, I must remind them about their game of cricket which can last for days. At least with baseball, it's only nine innings. And even though I strongly disagree with a majority of Americans who find soccer (football to the rest of the world) very boring, I find it very exciting. I've heard many American complain that soccer is twenty-two men or women in shorts running around a field chasing a ball with little or no scoring. As I said, I disagree with that opinion, and I also agree with the rest of the world that American Football is misnamed. If you think about it, how many times does the foot actually touch the ball in American Football? There are kickoffs, punts, extra points, and field goals. If you added up all the time a foot touches a ball, it is probably less than thirty seconds; probably less than ten seconds.

To help non-baseball readers, an ERA is an earned run average. It is based on how many runs a pitcher gives up in a nine-inning game. If he gives up one run in nine innings, he has an ERA of 1.00. Having an ERA of less than 3.00 is very good. A fielding percentage is simply the number of times a player handled the ball cleanly compared to the number of errors the player made. An RBI is a run batted in. If a player hits the ball safely, and another player scores, the player who hit safely gets an RBI. A batting average is determined by the number of hits a player has divided by the number of times he has an official at bat. Walks, getting hit by a pitched ball, getting on base through a fielding error, or when the player sacrifices to advance a runner do not count as official at bats. An excellent batting average is.300, which is one of the quirks about baseball. You can fail seven times out of ten and still be considered an outstanding player.

I agree with what many other writers have said. I write stories that I would like to read. If someone else enjoys it, then that is a plus. But there will be others who won't like the story and that's okay - you can't please everyone.

The World Series

Brad Seaver sat staring out the window as the sun was slowly sinking. He was just killing time until he had to leave for the stadium. Glancing down at the vinyl gym bag at his feet, Brad zipped it open to ensure his glove and cleats were inside. The habit began when he was in the minors and had his glove and cleats stolen. After that incident, Brad brought both items home with him after each game. The nervous habit came from the one time he forgot to check the bag. Brad had forgotten that he had taken his glove out to oil it and his cleats out to clean them. As a result, he had to borrow someone else's glove and cleats. Brad played a horrible game, striking out three times and making two errors. From then on, he checked and rechecked his bag before every game.

After checking that the tools of his profession were safely in his gym bag, Brad glanced over at the kitchen. He was pleased that his wife, Kimberly, was there. She didn't travel with him much anymore, and when Brad was home, she seemed to be gone more and more. Brad never dared to ask her where she had been because he feared she'd leave for good.

The thought of Kim leaving him brought back horrible memories of his first marriage. Brad thought his first wife, Cindy, was his soulmate, but he would discover she was far from that. In fact, Cindy was frequently sneaking off to cheat with her new paramour, and then one night left him to be with her new love. But when he met Kim, Brad put that whole horrible time behind him.

He loved Kim more than anything in the world and refused to believe anything bad about her. As he looked at her in the kitchen, she appeared as lovely to him today as she had the first time they met about a year after his heart-wrenching divorce.

After eleven years in the majors, Brad was bone tired. His career had been better than some, but not as good as others. He had wanted to retire after last year, but Kim had talked into signing a contract extension. And with a sense of sadness and relief, today's game would probably be his last. Even though the contract had another year to run, Brad wanted out. And today was the fourth game of the World Series, and his team, the Tampa Bay Rays, were down 3 - 0. The Series hadn't even been close so far, with Tampa losing the first game by seven runs, the second by five, and the third by eleven.

"Do you think you'll play today?" Kim asked from the kitchen doorway.

"Nah," Brad shook his head. "I haven't played so far, and with good reason. I've had a crap season. I'm only batting.209, and I've committed fifteen errors. I haven't pulled my weight since the All-Star game. I'll miss the game, but I'm glad it's almost over. Even if I wasn't going to retire, I'm sure the Rays would dump me after this season."

"You're not being fair to yourself, Brad," Kim protested. "The Rays made it into the Wild Card playoffs by one game. You had five hits in August and September that won games for the team. And you robbed Robbie Balor of a home run with that leaping catch in left field that saved the game. Also, you had a pinch hit in the second game of the Wild Card series that tied the game, which the Rays went on to win."

"I love that you're always there to defend me," Brad said, truly pleased at his wife's praise. Yet he wondered if she would press for him to play yet another season. "But let's be realistic, they're not going to play me. Still, it would be nice to get into at least one World Series game."

Kim smiled. "Remember, the games not over until it's over."

He chuckled. Kim loved to quote Yogi Berra's crazy sayings.

He loved his wife so much, but she continued disappearing, which troubled him greatly. It was driving him crazy, but he was afraid to bring it up. Brad was terrified that if he did bring it up, she might not come back. But the season was almost over. Perhaps then, they could spend more time together.

Brad checked his gym bag and then stared out the window again. The lights were starting to come on in the city. He thought back over his sometimes-bumpy career. Brad could have started his professional baseball life after high school. Instead, he enrolled in Cleveland Community College in Shelby, North Carolina, to study for an associate degree in accounting. Brad did this at the urging of his father.

His father had a small accounting service in Davidson, North Carolina, just outside Charlotte. Brad enjoyed working with numbers and working with his father, Henry, part-time. He worked mostly during tax season and in the summers. Brad did simple tax returns and general bookkeeping work. He didn't get paid much, but his father gave him all the time off he needed to play baseball.

Brad had gone to North Davidson high school, where he was one of two stars on the team. Tim Wilson had been a pitcher for the team since his freshman year. He only lost seven games in four years, two of which were because of errors he didn't commit. Brad also, was a starter in his freshman year. He played center field and batted.397 for that first season.

When Brad and Tim graduated from high school, both were drafted by major league teams. Brad was drafted by the Cleveland Indians in the twenty-seventh round. Tim was drafted in the tenth round by the New York Mets and offered a $50,000 signing bonus. Tim promptly signed. Brad was offered nothing. Still, he wanted to sign with Cleveland and play baseball, but his father convinced him to go to college. Henry explained that Brad could continue to play baseball while earning an associate degree in accounting. At the end of the two years, Henry felt certain Brad would be drafted again, but this time in an earlier round.

Brad listened to his father and attended Cleveland Community, studying accounting, and playing baseball. Brad excelled, maintaining a 3.8 GPA and batting.407 in his second year. And Brad was drafted as his father had predicted. He was taken in the sixth round by the St. Louis Cardinals. Retaining an agent, Abe Schultz, they paid him a $75,000 bonus. The Cardinals immediately assigned Brad to the Peoria Chiefs, their Class A team in Illinois.

Brad remembered his first day playing for Peoria. He was as nervous as could be. But the manager, Buck Springer, immediately put him at ease.

"I know you're probably a little nervous, Brad," the manager said easily. "So, I intend to let you sit on the bench for a few days to get used to how we do things."

However, in the ninth inning of that first game with Peoria, the manager called on Brad to pinch hit. Buck sent Brad in as a pinch hitter with two men on and two outs. He worked the count to three and two before blasting a home run over the right field wall. Peoria won the game 7 - 3.

As Brad was changing, the manager patted him on the back. "Good hit; you'll do just fine here, kid."

Confused, Brad turned to Ray Swanson, the first baseman, who was playing his second season with the Chiefs. "I don't understand. The skipper said I'd sit for a few days before he planned to use me."

Tim chuckled. "The Skipper does that to every new player. He wants them to relax while he picks a spot to stick them in that will immediately put them under pressure. He wants to see if you have the intestinal fortitude to be a professional ball player."

"What if I struck out?" Brad was further confused and now a little worried.

"He was just looking to see how you handled yourself. You didn't go up there and try to hit whatever the pitcher was serving up. You were patient and waited for your pitch. I think you're going to do great."

Three weeks later, Brad learned the business side of baseball. He was traded to the Atlanta Braves, who sent him to their double AA club in Pearl, Mississippi. This confused Brad because St. Louis had just paid him $75,000 to sign with them. But quickly, Brad learned he was part of a four-player deal that sent two double-A pitchers and Brad to Atlanta for a triple-A pitcher that St. Louis immediately brought up to the majors. Two of St. Louis' starting pitchers were on the DL, and they were desperate to restock the bullpen.

Pearl was a suburb of Jackson, Mississippi. And to Brad, Mississippi was a strange new world. Still, he adapted quickly and was soon a starter. It was here that he met Cindy Bremerton, a true southern belle. They soon became an exclusive couple. However, it should have been a red flag when Brad learned Cindy hated living in Pearl and desperately wanted out. But by then, he was so in love it blinded him to everything else.

At the end of the season, Brad and Cindy were married. At the same time, Brad was dealt to the New York Mets, and they assigned him to their triple-A club, the Syracuse Mets. At first, Brad thought Cindy and he should spend the autumn and winter at his parents' house. However, when neither his parents nor Cindy showed enthusiasm for that arrangement, Brad and Cindy rented an apartment in Syracuse. Brad's parents' coolness to Cindy should have been another red flag, but he totally missed that also. Years later, Brad's parents told him they didn't like and didn't trust Cindy.

Autumn was beautiful, but the winter was bitterly cold. Still, Brad was happy because he was deeply in love with Cindy and was sure she loved him. But then Brad was dealt two harsh life lessons. The first was that all wives were not faithful. And then Brad learned, as a professional baseball player, your value is strictly based on your batting average and fielding percentage.

Spring training came, and Brad did well enough that he felt confident that they'd keep him at this level. It went down to the wire, but Brad was still with the Syracuse Mets when the last players were released or reassigned. For the first two months of the season, Brad wasn't a regular starter. Still, he went in as a late-inning substitute for his defensive skills and was regularly used as a pinch hitter. Brad was batting.254 at the time, with three home runs and seventeen runs batted in. He also was error-free in the field.

At the beginning of June, Tim Wilson, his teammate from high school and one of the Mets' pitching staff, was sent to Syracuse to rehab his left index finger. It was broken while roughhousing in the clubhouse. Fortunately, he was a righthanded pitcher, so the break wasn't a big deal. Still, Ralph had been placed on the injury list for three weeks. They sent him to Syracuse to pitch a couple of games to ensure he was healthy.

The first day Tim arrived in Syracuse, Brad invited him home for dinner, where he met Cindy. Brad was very naïve in the ways of seductresses, and he totally missed the fact that Cindy was making a move on Tim. Tim returned to New York ten days later to take up his position with the Mets. For the next five weeks, Cindy would periodically take their car and disappear for a day or two. She refused to tell him where she had been and would get angry if he asked. Finally, Brad came home to find Cindy sitting with her bags packed and divorce papers for him. She cleaned out the checking and savings accounts and took all the jewelry Brad had given her. Cindy even refused to return the diamond engagement ring that had been his grandmother's. All the mysterious trips had been to New York City to see Tim, and now she intended to move in with and marry him when her divorce was final.

She was as nasty a bitch as one woman could be. She seemed to take pleasure in humiliating Brad. If he hadn't been so consumed by love, Brad would have known that Cindy had only married him to get out of Mississippi, which she gleefully told him now.

"You're such a shmuck, Brad," she smirked at him. "I only married you to get out of that backwater town in Mississippi, but I never planned to stay with you."

"Cindy," Brad fought back the tears, "I thought we loved each other."

"Oh please, don't be so naive," Cindy spit out as she pushed the divorce papers into Brad's hands. "I'm going places in this world, and you're not. Tim told me that management doesn't believe you'll ever make it to the Majors. They only intend to keep you around for a couple of years in hopes they can trade you, and if that doesn't happen, they'll dump you."

Brad watched as Cindy carried her two suitcases out of the apartment and his life. But the truly sad thing was that Brad believed her.

Devastation was too mild a word to describe Brad's feelings. He had only had two serious girlfriends before marrying Cindy, and he had taken the breakup of both of those relationships hard, even though he had initiated one of them. But losing Cindy to Tim plunged Brad into the depths of despair. And Brad's performance on the baseball field suffered badly. Two weeks after Cindy left, the Syracuse Mets demoted Brad. They sent him down to their double-A club, the Binghamton Rumble Ponies.

After two days in Binghamton, Brad was ready to quit baseball and go home. Fortunately, the Binghamton manager, Roy Miller, knew how to handle young players. He had seen it all, from homesickness to drugs, the "yips," and broken romances. Roy convinced Brad to give it two weeks. Then he worked on getting Brad to transfer his depression into anger for his soon-to-be ex-wife.

Roy also helped Brad get a lawyer that forced Cindy to return half the money she'd taken from the checking and savings account. The lawyer also convinced Cindy to return the engagement ring. Brad channeled all his hatred and energy into his baseball game. He went on a tear, hitting.394 for the two weeks, hitting four home runs and batting in nineteen runs. Brad was fully recommitted to his baseball career at the end of the two weeks.

Brad ended that season with a batting average of.313 with nineteen home runs and forty-three runs batted in. During the winter, the Mets dealt Brad to Detroit, which upset him at first. But after a conversation with his agent, Brad realized that Detroit intended to start him with their Toledo club, the Mud Hens, which was their triple-A club.

It was in Toledo that he met Kim. Her full name was Kimberly Anna Samuels. And Kim was on duty at the hotel Brad had checked into when he first arrived in Toledo. She was a very pretty woman with emerald, green eyes and silky brown hair tied back in a ponytail. But Brad treated her badly, snarling at her when she explained the hotel offered a discount for Mud Hen players, but only for a week. Since Brad had channeled his depression into anger, he pushed all women into the same category and either treated them badly or ignored them. Kim's smile dimmed as she offered a quiet apology and returned to the computer. For the first time since Cindy had left him, Brad felt bad about how he had treated a woman.

After a few moments of awkward silence, Brad mumbled an apology, explaining he was in a bad mood. Kim's smile immediately returned, and she explained that most players either found an apartment for themselves or moved in with others within the first week.

The first few days of practice found Brad focusing hard on his hitting and fielding. But occasionally, he found himself thinking about Kim. He even found himself finding excuses to stop by the reception desk when Kim was on duty so he could talk to her. By his fifth day in Toledo, Brad had arranged to share an apartment with Tyler Wilson, a catcher. But Brad stayed one more night, and when he came down to check out, he asked Kim for her phone number and a date. She happily accepted both his requests.

When the Mud Hen's season opened, Kim was seated in the wives' and girlfriends' section of the Fifth Third Field, the Mud Hens' home stadium. Brad understood that the Fifth Third Bank had bought the naming rights to the stadium, which was commonplace in all sports nowadays. However, Brad was amused by the name of the bank. He would chuckle as he tried to imagine what happened to the first four of the third banks. About midseason, a reporter spoiled his amusement when he explained that the name came about from the merger of the Fifth National Bank and the Third National Bank.

Kim became a regular, always sitting in the same seat as their relationship grew. Whenever Brad took the field or came up to hit, he would glance up to where Kim sat and smile. She always waved and smiled back at him.

The season went well for Brad. He hit.298 with ninety-four RBIs, twenty-nine home runs, and a league-leading six triples. Then with two weeks left in the Major League season, Brad was called up to the "big club." Unfortunately for Kim, Detroit's last six games were on the road. Brad's play was respectable. He was called on to pinch hit three times, getting one hit. Brad was also inserted in left field in the eighth inning for defensive purposes. He threw out a runner trying to advance from first to third on a looping single that landed between him and the centerfielder.

A month after the season ended, Brad and Kim were married. They rented an apartment on a month-to-month basis and settled into married life. But as it turned out, they had to give up the Toledo apartment and find one near Comerica Park in Detroit. Brad started spring training with the Tigers, and when the final cuts were made, he was a Detroit Tiger.