OOTP Developments Forums - View Single Post - HIGH HEAT

laxman2789 · 01-01-2005, 06:44 PM

CHAPTER FOUR:

4/1/04

Taylor certainly was smoking, and I don’t mean drugs. I thought I would be rooming with another guy, but my roommate turned out to be a roomette. She was incredible – about five foot six inches tall, long blonde hair, blue eyes, full pouty lips, and one hell of a tight body. There was one drawback, she had a boyfriend; however, I was willing to bet her boy did not play pro ball.

The second I met her I laid the game on pretty thick, touting the fact that I was a professional athlete. She showed me the sites, or should I say the site. A couple blocks from the ballpark, on the top of a hill, sprawled Immanuel Lutheran Church, the only church in America the shape of a “horn of plenty.” If you couldn’t already tell, I’m not the religious type. I’m closer to the Anti-Christ than Jesus Christ, so it looks like my free nights will be spent in Tulsa.

All the sightseeing made my throat dry, and I needed a beer to quell the lingering threat of dehydration. One of Taylor’s friends had an open house, and that was one party I just needed to crash. Although I had already graduated high school, the high school party was still a blast. I never really understood the concept of high school girls (you keep getting older but they stay the same age) until that night. I blacked out and don’t truly remember what events transpired, but the empty condom rapper found in my jean pocket hinted at a good time.

I actually don’t mind Broken Arrow. The coaches know their sh*t, the players don’t think their hot sh*t, and my roommate is a brick sh*t house. Towards the end of March Long called me for a meeting. His name, Richard Brent Long, was displayed on the semi-opaque door leading to his office. I’m not sure if I’m the first to pick up on it, but this guy’s nickname is Dick B. Long. I find that f*cking funny. Inside sat Long and Henriquez, engrossed in some baseball talk. They told me to sit down.

“Son, we’re giving you the ball on April first,” said Long
“Isn’t that opening day?”
I have had only two real sit down conversations with skip, when I signed my first contract and this meeting, but they both ended pretty ominously. The first ended like, “Any sh*t and your @ss is gone,” and the second, “don’t f*ck it up.” I started to like this guy.

I gave my host family and of course Tay (I started calling her this instead of Taylor, less syllables) tickets to the game. I couldn’t believe my skinny @ss would be on that mound on opening day. Turns out I pitched a gem: a 3 hit, 1 run, complete game victory. A few more performances like that and I would be getting the ball in Wichita in no time. I went out to celebrate, and I don’t mean just that night. We celebrated on Friday night, Saturday night, Sunday night, and Monday night. When it was my turn to pitch again on Tuesday I was so hung over I allowed 6 runs in only 6 innings of work. I need to get this alcohol stuff under control.

01-01-2005, 06:44 PM	#15 (permalink)
laxman2789 Minors (Double A) Join Date: Jul 2003 Posts: 126	CHAPTER FOUR: 4/1/04 Taylor certainly was smoking, and I don’t mean drugs. I thought I would be rooming with another guy, but my roommate turned out to be a roomette. She was incredible – about five foot six inches tall, long blonde hair, blue eyes, full pouty lips, and one hell of a tight body. There was one drawback, she had a boyfriend; however, I was willing to bet her boy did not play pro ball. The second I met her I laid the game on pretty thick, touting the fact that I was a professional athlete. She showed me the sites, or should I say the site. A couple blocks from the ballpark, on the top of a hill, sprawled Immanuel Lutheran Church, the only church in America the shape of a “horn of plenty.” If you couldn’t already tell, I’m not the religious type. I’m closer to the Anti-Christ than Jesus Christ, so it looks like my free nights will be spent in Tulsa. All the sightseeing made my throat dry, and I needed a beer to quell the lingering threat of dehydration. One of Taylor’s friends had an open house, and that was one party I just needed to crash. Although I had already graduated high school, the high school party was still a blast. I never really understood the concept of high school girls (you keep getting older but they stay the same age) until that night. I blacked out and don’t truly remember what events transpired, but the empty condom rapper found in my jean pocket hinted at a good time. I actually don’t mind Broken Arrow. The coaches know their sht, the players don’t think their hot sht, and my roommate is a brick sht house. Towards the end of March Long called me for a meeting. His name, Richard Brent Long, was displayed on the semi-opaque door leading to his office. I’m not sure if I’m the first to pick up on it, but this guy’s nickname is Dick B. Long. I find that fcking funny. Inside sat Long and Henriquez, engrossed in some baseball talk. They told me to sit down. “Son, we’re giving you the ball on April first,” said Long “Isn’t that opening day?” I have had only two real sit down conversations with skip, when I signed my first contract and this meeting, but they both ended pretty ominously. The first ended like, “Any sht and your @ss is gone,” and the second, “don’t fck it up.” I started to like this guy. I gave my host family and of course Tay (I started calling her this instead of Taylor, less syllables) tickets to the game. I couldn’t believe my skinny @ss would be on that mound on opening day. Turns out I pitched a gem: a 3 hit, 1 run, complete game victory. A few more performances like that and I would be getting the ball in Wichita in no time. I went out to celebrate, and I don’t mean just that night. We celebrated on Friday night, Saturday night, Sunday night, and Monday night. When it was my turn to pitch again on Tuesday I was so hung over I allowed 6 runs in only 6 innings of work. I need to get this alcohol stuff under control. Last edited by laxman2789 : 01-02-2005 at 07:47 PM.