Mark Jazzington - a managerial career

[Jazzmosis]

Chapter 71: NLCS: Game five, Tuesday, October 19th, 2009

Game five would be the last game we played in the chilly Chicago air before we headed back to the warmer climate of Florida, assuming we won this game. The whole team was riding the high and the excitement of the walk-off win that kept us breathing in this series. Meanwhile, on the other end of things, Anaheim was well up on Texas, 3-1, and fresh to take the series after embarrassing the Rangers 14-0 in game four. Both of us; Texas and ourselves - were battling against extreme odds. If Florida and Anaheim advanced, it’d be the two highest record teams facing off, which hadn’t happened since before the Wild Card was instated.

Most of the team hadn’t gone out and partied the win - in fact, only two guys went out - everyone else was eager to get back on the field and carry on with our momentum. We were all hoping that we’d dealt a huge confidence blow to the Marlins with that clutch single - and hoped that we’d find some more amazing hitting. One thing was for sure in my mind, though: If we came all the way back, they’d be close games decided by one play. It was demanded by the playoffs - nothing could be just normal, everything had to end or continue thanks to something that fans, players, and pundits would talk about for years after the fact.

Rodrigo Guillen was getting the huge start for this game, and he was slated up against Jake Millican, who hadn’t thrown at all in the playoffs for the Marlins. By all matchup outlooks, we had the pitching advantage - but I ignored all of that, because it was all a crapshoot now. I found amusement in the two pitcher’s background comparison, though. Both were converted relievers - both had won 12 games this year, and both had very similar scouting reports. Both were young - Guillen 26, Millican 25. And both had never seen a start this big in their careers.


I saw Lilley in the morning, before she left for school. I promised her another date, but admittedly my mind was more on the game I had coming up. We reverted to our usual friendship ways - something strange had happened where we acted differently on the dates, but between we still acted the same as we always had. As she headed out the door, she gave me a hug and a smile that my mind burned in photographic form, an image that still frequents my thoughts. And then she went to school. And I went to the park.


I had to make a decision on the lineup I wanted to put in again for the game - but as I was figuring it out, I was informed by Schermerhorn of Sanson’s last minute switch. Jake Millican was out; Ronald Rawls was in. I thanked him and swallowed hard - Rawls had beat us in Game 2, pitching a gem. I just hoped that Guillen could push us in the right direction. Statistically, Rawls was a worse pitcher than Millican - but on the other hand, he was at least playoff tested.

I decided to chance it and put the same lineup forward that I had the night before - after all, it netted me the win. Delgadillo would call the game for Guillen, while Kolodziej would once again hit cleanup. Waldo was a no-brainer at this point - he’d hit .462 while Simoneaux hit only .063, with a ridiculous 10 strikeouts in 16 at-bats. Delgadillo, on the other hand, was a serious gamble. It was basically putting another pitcher in the lineup offensively, while Cancio at least had a hope of hitting the ball. On the other hand, Delgadillo’s arm was a huge deterrent for would-be stealers. I was gambling with fire, and would either lose it all or burn the other team.

The game started with the Chicago mayor throwing out the first pitch, and Spanish Koan taking the hill against White. Florida was throwing the same lineup it had all series.

He wound up and delivered a first pitch strike, which the crowd liked. To satisfy them some more, he repeated it with a second pitch strike. On the third pitch, White swung a lifted a shallow fly, where Hickman trotted in and caught it. Waterhouse came up and did what he did so well, singling past a diving Harshaw.

Same old story. Waterhouse on, and Bennett at the plate. Guillen threw carefully to him, until he eventually walked him. I wasn’t going to complain. However, I started to get worried when he walked Chris on five pitches, loading up the bases with one out.

Glidden stepped up and took a hack at the first pitch he saw - a fly ball to straight centre. Hickman gloved it, but Waterhouse tagged and scored without contest. And right away, we were behind. Molina grounded out right after to end the inning. 1-0 Florida.

We started something right away against Rawls, though. After falling behind 0-2, Hicky got the crowd back into the game when he doubled down the line. Johnny came to the plate, and ripped the second pitch he saw. It was dying fast in left, but Bagwell made a shoestring catch before tumbling to the ground - forcing James to hurry back to second.

Clough fell behind 0-2 on two bad swings - and took the next pitch, a splitter, just over Glidden’s head. Hickman rounded and scored, and we celebrated. Clough had finally had the opportunity to drive runners in, and he didn’t disappoint. Meanwhile, Rawls had thrown 8 pitches, and all were strikes.

The first ball came against Kolodziej. But the next two were strikes. Waldo shook his bat to his normal stance, and fouled off the next pitch. Rawls got the signal, and delivered after checking JC at first. Kolo turned on it - and we all watched as the ball jumped off the bat. Bagwell chased and tracked it, getting closer and closer to the wall.

“Go! Go! Go!” I heard Hull scream from behind me.

Bagwell leapt at the wall, but the ball wasn’t close to his glove - it landed safely in the outfield stands four rows back. The crowd exploded and Waldo pumped his fist as he rounded first. Just like that, we were back on top.

Taylor didn’t let the hitting stop there - he took the first pitch from Rawls and singled past Glidden and White. He took off on the second pitch to Ira, who grounded it to Barry at first. Mission accomplished; he’d stayed out of the double play. It didn’t matter, though, as GM lined the ball hard, but right into Barry’s mitt. 3-1 Chicago.

Guillen’s control wasn’t helping, though. After getting Bagwell to fly out, he walked Oquendo, hitting all of .111 so far, on five pitches. Delbert then stole second, and Rawls grounded an easy ball to Harshaw. He fielded and threw, the ball skipping in the dirt - and right off the top of JC’s glove. Rawls was safe on Johnny’s error, and Florida had runners on the corners.

Spanish Koan brushed off the error, reassuring Clutch that it wasn’t a big deal. He came back and struck out White on four pitches, the final being a 92 MPH fastball, and then had to face Waterhouse. I became accustomed to Casey hurting us, and this was no exception, as he singled home Delbert and brought Bennett to the plate with two on, two out.

And things didn’t get better. Barry swiped at the second pitch and deposited it in right-centre, which drew a throw at the plate for Rawls, but ultimately he was on time. Waterhouse and Barry cruised into scoring position, and this game was tied. I got Kass warming up in the pen. Rodrigo got ahead 0-2, but then left a pitch over the plate, and Chris found a hole. Both runners scored, and we trailed again. Glidden followed it up with a single. Molina brought home Chris with another single, and I sent Guillen to the showers.

Things didn’t get better. Kass guttered a pitch to Bagwell, who ripped it down the line and scored both runners. Meanwhile, he cruised into third.

Finally, finally, Oquendo, who’d started it all, lined out to Hickman, who still had to make a nice running stab. When it was all said and done, Florida had scored 7 times, and led 8-3. Things looked bleak.

We went silently in the 2nd, which was awful - but it was the bottom of the order, so not much could be expected.

And it just got worse and worse. Rawls greeted Kass with a home run. Rawls. The pitcher. I pulled Coy and sent in Sipple to stop the bleeding and give us any kind of hope.

He got White on a flyout. But then Waterhouse walked and both Bennetts were beaned, which loaded the bases. Two pitches after, Glidden ripped a pitch just fair, clearing all the bases. A grand slam, and we were down by 10. Nobody said anything, and I just watched as the game had slid away so soon. Sipple struck out the next two, and got us out of the inning. 13-3 Florida.

Harshaw led off the 3rd with a single, which got a small rise out of the fans. JC stepped up to the dish, and mashed the second pitch from Rawls - well over the outfield fence, which plated him. We applauded in the dugout, but we still had a long way to go. Taylor singled afterwards, but that was all. Sipple came back out for the 4th, and picked up another two strikeouts in a badly-needed 1-2-3 inning. We followed suit, but I sent Delaney in to relieve. I had wanted to use him for game six, but he was needed now.

Waterhouse grounded to Harshaw, who booted it again. Casey had been on base four times in a row now. Barry then walked, putting the usual situation up. Delaney didn’t make things better for himself, throwing a wild pitch that put two in scoring position with none out.

We all groaned in the dugout. Dave, on the other hand, bared down and struck out Chris, Glidden, and got Molina to ground out to end the inning without letting up a run. He received hearty high-fives as he came in - we needed any boon we could get.

Clutch started off the 5th with a single. JC then improved to 3-3 with a duplicate single. The crowd shuffled in subdued excitement - we were down by 8, but had the chance to start things off. Kolo dug into the plate and assumed his usual waggle.

He pounded the ball into the ground, forcing Chris to make a backhanded stab. He turned and fired to second, retiring the slow Clough, but Kolo barely beat the throw at first. Runners on the corners, 1 out. Taylor then lifted an easy fly to Oquendo, which brought home Johnny. That signalled the end of th night for Rawls, and brought in Mike Prout., who after a tough battle with Hull, got a groundout that ended the inning. 13-6 Florida after 5 innings.

Delaney did his job, leaving Oquendo on second in the top of the sixth.

After Martinez grounded out, I pinch hit Delgadillo for Cancio, and hoped he’d find his bat. He lined out. Delaney then struck out. We were down to 9 outs to score 7 times.

Waterhouse reached on an error for the second time, this one against Kolodziej at third. Typically, he was on for Bennett. And typically, Bennett walked. Chris singled, and Florida had re-loaded the bases.

Glidden punished us again, drilling a double past Martinez that scored Waterhouse (again) and Bennet (again). Molina walked (again), and we were back to square one. Bagwell lifted a fly to deep centre, which Hicky gloved but scored another. I pulled Delaney for Popham. Popham struck out the next two he faced to end the inning, but we were back to losing by ten, down 16-6.

Hickman didn’t want to go down without a fight. He lead off the inning with a solo homer which plated our 7th run. Harshaw then singled. Clough, still perfect on the day, ripped the pitch past Chris, and the ball travelled all the way to the wall. Johnny rounded second and third, drawing a throw from Bagwell and White. Waterhouse made the catch at the plate - a good relay, and applied the tag.

Safe.

Clutch pumped his fists in a rare show of emotions. We weren’t going to go easily, it seemed. Waldo nubbed a ball just up the middle and was thrown out by White, but JC moved to third. Aaron then singled to right, which scored Clough and kept his night perfect as well. Hull flew out to the track - we all screamed, but Bagwell hailed it in - and I pinch hit Martinez for Gober. He grounded out. We’d scored three times, but still trailed 16-9.

Popham got White out on a strikeout, and then finally prevented Waterhouse from getting on - but only by a smooth backhanded, bang-bang play by Taylor.

And finally, as if we’d waited too long for it, Barry took Popham deep. Chris was pinch hit by Carillo, who hit a comebacker and was out. But again, 17-9.

Cancio struck out to start the bottom of the 8th. I sent in Dekker to pinch hit, who took 12 pitches until finally flying out to centre. Shortly after, Hickman grounded out. We were down to the final three outs.

Aitken started the top of the ninth. Glidden took a high third strike, and immediately started to argue. The plate ump had none of it, tossing him quickly. We all laughed at how stupid Glidden was to argue while leading by eight. At least we could get some laughs in from this. Molina struck out afterwards, and Bagwell grounded out, 2-3. It was all or nothing now.

Clutch led off the inning against Prout. He took two balls and a strike, and then lifted a high, deep fly - right into the glove of Rodarte in centre (who had came in as a defensive replacement). Two outs left.

Clough solidified the best game of his career by rapping another single, going 5-5. Kolo tried to repeat his success, but flew out harmlessly to left. One out left.

Taylor came up. He took the first pitch ball. Then he swung, and sent the ball high to centre - and in the unreal, but inevitable moment, Rodarte grabbed it, and the stadium went silent as the Marlins all mobbed each other on the mound.

Clough hurried back to the dugout, out of the way of the celebration. For the second straight year, Florida celebrated in front of us - but this time, it was to go to the World Series. I watched from the safety of the dugout, watching another team celebrate where I should have been. I just sat and watched, letting the feeling sink in, just like all the other Chicago fans. The season was now over.

My thoughts drifted as I watched the Marlins. I had to renegotiate my contract with Oberg or find another team to manage. I wondered if I would be moving again. I thought of Lilley, and what I was going to say to her. I wondered if this loss would change anything between her and I - it didn’t make sense, but I thought it might. I saw the out-of-town scoreboard - Texas has won 6-3, forcing a game 6. I watched my players walk by me into the clubhouse and congratulate me on a great season, which I responded with the same sentiments. I wondered what would become of my life now. I wondered who would face Florida in the Fall Classic. I thought of my family, and of my friends I’d left behind in Canada. And after all the players had gone into the clubhouse and I was the only one left in the dugout, I finally got up off the bench.

I didn’t have to go to Miami, at least.

[PBL Commish]

good idea

[PBL Commish]

damnit

i thought u would pull out at least one more game

[Jazzmosis]

Oh wow, I didn't realize I had a chapter ready to go and never posted it; so as a gift to you, my readers, I post both of the last two chapters in one shot - don't get too excited - they don't cover a lot of time, and I really took a step back to try and develop character here.

Anyway, here they are. Chapter 72 and 73 of Mark Jazzington!

[Jazzmosis]

Chapter 72: Chase to Winter

Anaheim knocked out Texas on the 21st to advance, beating them in a similar fashion that happened to us - a 10-2 rout. This put the best two teams in the Series.

I went back to my apartment after getting knocked out, and slept the night away. I woke up the next morning, but I didn’t want to start imagining my future until after the season ended - for everyone. I spent the 20th with Lilley, and took her on another date.

The weather got bitterly cold on the 22nd, and remained that way for the rest of the year. I watched the World Series start up at the bar with some holdovers from the team, and rejoiced as the Angels drubbed the Marlins in game 1, 11-2.

Florida tied up the series the next day.

I spent more time with Lilley, and took her out on another date. Things were still going slow, although it was obvious we were both making a concerted effort to do that. Every part of my wanted to jump forward - but at the same time, I knew that slowing it down was the best thing to do.

The month of October ended, the World Series going 7 games. Much to my dismay, Florida battled back from 3-2 down to win it all in Anaheim, and were crowned the World Series champions. This threw the offseason into full disclosure - which dealt out all the awards, in which there was no surprises.

However, Ira Hull and Alex Cuddy received contract extensions, Hull for two years (at 4 million a year) and Cuddy for one year at 600K. Both were good deals; I couldn’t complain. Chicago had drawn a huge profit that year and looked to make some big deals in the free agent market.

The biggest surprise of all came on November 7th, when I received a phone call from the commissioner’s office.
“Mark Jazzington?”
“Speaking.”
“This is Rick Mayer, from the Commissioner Greg Housing’s office.”
“What can I do for you?”
“I’d just like to inform you that you’ve been awarded the National League Manager of the Year. We’re holding a ceremony in a week in San Francisco to hand out those awards - and of course, we have prepared travel and hotel arrangement for you.”
“Oh.. I.. wow... I didn’t expect that.”
“Congratulations! Will you be attending the ceremony?”
“Sure thing. Just send me all the necessary information.”


It was the first time I won the Manager of the Year award, and I was the youngest to do so since 1906, when player-manager ‘Spicket’ O’Halley won a similar award when he was 23. I was 24. I attended the ceremony in San Francisco, meeting some of the other managers and the officials of the league. There was a few players receiving awards along with me, but I didn’t really talk to them. All in all, it was kind of a boring thing to go to, but at least I got a free trip out of it.

I longed to get back to Chicago, though. My mind had become more and more focussed on Lilley, and I planned on asking her out when I got back. I just wanted to get the right time to ask. She was busy in her second-last year of school, where she would finally earn her doctor’s degree. I always envied her for putting up with school that long; I knew I wouldn’t have been able to handle more than a year of college. Baseball was my game, and it was all I could do with any competence.

I flew back into Chicago on November 15th, and immediately crashed into my apartment. I checked over the recent transaction, and found nothing about Chicago. Lilley was busy with her school, so I knew I couldn’t do anything with her at the time - instead, I just relaxed on my couch. I still hadn’t heard anything from Oberg, which made me worried.

Early the next morning, my impatience got the best of me, and I called up Oberg.
“Hey, Richard.”
“How are you?”
“Alright. I’m just going to get straight to the point, here. Are you interested in having me back next year to manage the club?”
There was a brief silence. “Yes, we are. But it depends on the cost - we’re still trying to stick to a low budget so we have money to sign the big players.”
“I see. Where does that place me?”
“I’ll make a formal offer to you before the winter meetings, how does that sound?”
“Two weeks? Sounds fair. I’ll give you an offer at the same time.”


I realized all too quickly that I had a winning record as a manager, and that there was probably people interested in me for other teams. I didn’t want to leave the Cubs, but the conversation didn’t seem to encouraging.

I sat and thought about everything for a moment. I didn’t know how to get in contact with other teams, and suspected they didn’t know how to contact me. I mused for a few moments, and finally came to the decision that I needed an agent. I had no idea what I was doing, apart from my brief experiences with contracts - when I was 18, I signed with Florida without really reading the whole agreement - and although there was nothing outlandish about it, I sure didn’t get paid a whole lot compared to other managers. With Arizona, I was more lucky than anything else, and Eastwood had been particularly understanding. If another major league manager had tried to get that job, I probably would still be living in my car. With Chicago, my small experience and willingness to sign a small contract for two years helped.

But now, I was a winning manager. I had gone to the postseason twice; I didn’t ask for much in contracts, and I’d took a young team from mediocre to the top of the strongest division in baseball. Surely, surely, that would be of interest to some other teams.

I called Hensley up, hoping that he could refer me to his agent. He did just that, and I immediately made the call. For some reason, I felt a sense of urgency - perhaps it was my feeling that I was done in Chicago, perhaps it was knowing I hadn’t done anything for a month.

“Hello, this is Marvin Turisman, agent.”
“Hello, I’m Mark Jazzington, recent manager of the Chicago Cubs.”
“Oh hi there! Congratulations on your season.”
“Didn’t quite go as I wanted, but thanks nonetheless.”
He chuckled to himself. “What can I do for you?”
“I’m looking for a representative. Mike Hensley referenced me to you.”
“Well then; look no further! I’ve got over 10 major-league clients, spread across three sports. No managers, though.”

I explained my situation to him, and what I expected. He responded with his commission charges, and told me that we should meet.

So again, I hopped on a plane and headed to Phoenix. The meeting went well and we reached an agreement that he would represent me. He told me of the teams that were without managers, and asked who I preferred to work with. To me, it made no difference; I had played on the east coast, in the desert, and in the prairie - I just wanted to have a job and to be able to settle down for a while. Although Chicago held some personal interest for me, particularly because of Lilley, I knew that I would leave if I had to. I flew back into Chicago on the 21st, ten days before the winter meetings.

Turisman worked quickly: within two days of returning, he called me with good news - Cleveland, Seattle, and Washington DC had expressed interest in signing me. That was the of five teams searching for a manager - the others being Chicago, and Florida, which I had certainly crossed off my list. I agreed to travel down to the winter meetings in order to meet with the three clubs, while I called Oberg and informed him of my new agent.

I had a week before the meetings, which I made my best effort to spend some time with Lilley, who I had only seen for moments at a time. She was bogged down with her work, so I hadn’t been able to take her out on dates. Of course, when we were together things were still passionate, if disconnected by the time constraints - but the more I saw her, the stronger my urge to ask her out was.

Looking back on it now, it was clear I was putting roadblocks in front of myself. I wanted to finish the playoffs, first; then it was letting her get through exams; then it was wanting to ensure my contract for the next season. All in all, only one was really legitimate, since it could pull me out of Chicago and out of her life.

It was also around this time that I went and visited Blaney. I had been putting it off for months, again placing roadblocks in the way. I had worked hard to get the painful end of Irene and I out of my mind, but my relationship with Blaney had only complicated things.

Since we had last seen each other, she had changed somewhat. She was now 20, and I could finally draw some differences from her and my memories of Irene. She was in college working on a BA of English, had been on and off with some boyfriends, and was mostly in the same boat as myself, in terms of Irene. She showed me some of her work, which was uninteresting to say the least, and then asked if I would come with her to meet some of her college friends. Evidently she had told them she knew me, and they wanted to meet me. I didn’t know what was such a big deal, especially considering I was only a manager; but I agreed nonetheless.

It was a gathering of girls and guys, mostly girls. A few of the guys asked for my autograph, which I obliged and gave, while the girls asked me fairly generic questions about working with famous people. They wondered if I could get into VIP parties with them, which made me laugh.

“VIP parties? I’m not a Hollywood actor, I’m just a manager for a sports team.”


When the time with them ended, I gave Blaney a hug and promised to see her again, and headed back to Chicago. I felt happy about seeing her again; not because I still felt for her, but because I got closure on whether or not anything was there anymore. We had thankfully grown apart and dealt with our loss in similar, but different ways, and come to the conclusion that anything between us wouldn’t go well.

Blaney would remain in my life for a long time, and other things would surface years down the road. But at this time, I had no idea about them, and I felt that for once in my life, I had made a decision that wasn’t just for myself.

And my attention turned back to Lilley. I had brushed off all the cobwebs, save one, which I still had no idea about, and had cleared myself for a meaningful relationship.

Of course, I still had to ask her out. But first, I had to surpass the final roadblock I’d set up: where would I be working next year?

I boarded the plane on December 1st, 2009, heading for Austin, Texas, where the meetings were being held, hoping that it would be solved before I came back on December 4th.

[Jazzmosis]

Chapter 73: Down the Hallway

My arrival in Austin came with little fanfare; only the hardest of diehard fans ever camped outside the Convention Centre. I informed Turisman of my hotel, and he agreed to keep me informed of what happened. Turisman was an exceptionally busy man this meeting; he had three free agents, one of which was bound to receive a big paycheck (named Louis Bogle), my own contract to deal with, and the upcoming arbitration cases for four more of his players, one of whom was Hensley. I didn’t expect much of a chance to talk with him in person.

So, I resolved to wander around Austin for the first day, only getting a call from Turisman around 10PM that night. Washington had made a preliminary offer of 1 year, two million dollars. I’d never seen that much money before; and definitely not earned it in my lifetime. I was tempted to say yes right away, but Turisman assured me that there was more in store.

The next day passed without incident. Before I knew it, I was on the last day of the Winter Meetings, in the same position I was before I showed up. DC and Seattle had both made offers; both one year deals around the same salary. Cleveland has expressed interest, but made no offer, while Chicago was still silent.

I headed back to the city on December 4th feeling somewhat dishearted. My wish to have everything solved and cleared wasn’t so; and thus, my roadblock to asking Lilley out continued. She was in the midst of finishing off one of her exams, so I hadn’t seen her in over a week.


Time slowly turned into a day, and a day into a week. I had only seen Lilley twice in the hallway, and Washington had gone on to sign a different manager. Cleveland had finally offered me a deal - a 2 year, 1.5 million dollar deal. I was disappointed, especially since I had considered Cleveland because they weren’t excessively far from Chicago, which gave me the hope of still being able to see Lilley.

I had to come to a decision, and soon. The Cubs had waned on making contact with either Turisman or myself, so I was coming to grips with leaving the team I’d gave so much to. Turisman had suggested that I tell him my decision on the Saturday, and it was Friday night. I sat in my apartment, staring at the wall, staring at the door, the phone, the kitchen - hoping, praying, trying to will myself to choose. Seattle at 1.9 for a year, or Cleveland at 1.5 for two? I begged myself not to factor Lilley into the decision, but no matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t help but favour Cleveland just because I’d be closer.

After an hour passed, still with me not making a decision, I picked up the phone and dialed for Lilley. She answered, and for just a second, I said nothing and just took in her voice.

“Hello, Mark.”

“Lilley. I know you’re busy studying and all, but can I see you, even if just for a few minutes?” I sounded calm, but I was holding back the trembling that my throat was incurring.

She thought about it for a moment, more than likely analysing my question and what it meant. “Okay,” she finally responded.

“I’ll be over in a moment.”


I hung up and made the trek down the hallway. She appeared at the door moments before I reached it, allowing me in with her friendly smile. “Hey,” she said as I entered.

I turned to face her, leaning against the edge of her couch. I looked at her face, watching as her hair, all over her head and face, flopped around. I glanced at her track pants, that said “CHICAGO” across the bottom. I looked at her shirt, an oversized blue and white dress shirt with the sleeves rolled up. She walked by me and scooped up her drink, which I assumed was juice, from off the coffee table. She didn’t sit - her notes and books were everywhere, so it wasn’t like there was much room to anyway. After a sip, we faced each other in a short silence.

“I need to talk to you.” I started, breaking the quiet.
“I know.” Lilley responded, taking another sip.
I sighed nervously, conflicted of how to say the words that were about to spill out of my mouth. “I’ve been looking around for manager jobs.”
“Oh yeah?”
“Yeah. I haven’t heard from the Cubs, so it looks like I’m done here.”
She looked at me for a moment, undoubtedly feeling her emotions dive. “Oh yeah?”

“Yeah. But I’ve got two offers on the table, one from Cleveland, one from Seattle. . . my agent tells me that I should pick by tomorrow.”
“Which one is better?” She responded in a very matter-of-fact tone.
“Both have their strengths. But that’s not why I’m here. Well, it is, but it isn’t.”
“What?”
I sighed and scratched my face. “I- I don’t want to leave.”
“Why?”

“Because of you.” There was a silence as she just looked at me, expression unchanged, but only because she was holding something back. “I know. I know. I just, I really care about you, Lilley. I, I know that we haven’t seen or talked much in recent weeks, but I’ve been thinking - a lot - about you. And I, I. . . I waited so long to ask this, and now it feels like it’s too late.”

Now let me tell you something about Lilley. I knew her well enough to know when she knew what I was going to say, but just wanted me to actually say it. “Then ask now,” she retorted, sipping quickly after.

“I just, I wanted to ask for you and I to be a couple. I wanted to.”

She just looked right into my eyes, past my skin and into my head. She knew that this had been building up, and she knew that I was scared of the answer to my question. She knew I’d thrown myself out there, something I never did, and offered myself to her dissection; usually with her, that was a fatal mistake. “Wanted?” She asked, probing deeper.

“Yeah. I expected that Chicago would at least offer me something, and that I could stay and then ask you.”

“Why didn’t you ask me earlier?”

I thought of the reality, and pushed it away. “Because I’m stupid. But it doesn’t matter now.”

This moment threw her for a curve. She expected the question to be in the open, but now I’d admitted that my desire was a thing of the past - or so she thought. “Why not?”

I pushed back my growing emotions and gave an answer with the most confident sounding voice I could. It still quivered. “Because I won’t be in Chicago anymore. I want to go to Cleveland, because it’s closer to you - the money isn’t as good, but it’s closer to you. But Seattle is only a year, and I’d make more money there than I would over two years in Cleveland. But it’s far from you.”

She put her glass down slowly. “I’ll try and make this as clear as I can for you. If you’d asked me right now, before all this. . . this confession. . . I’d have said yes. Of course I know you care for me, and I think it’s obvious that I’ve liked you for awhile now - we have a connection, and we know it. But now you tell me that you can’t, because you’re leaving the city - and then you tell me that you want to take the worse job because it’s closer to me?” She stopped and swallowed, pushing back her emotions. “I just don’t know why you didn’t ask me earlier, Mark. And I can only assume you want to take Cleveland so you can still see me?”

“Well, if you wanted to do the long-distance thing. It’s not really far, and I’d still be able to see you a lot, I guess. But it wouldn’t be like with the Cubs, when I’m here nearly every week.”

She swallowed again, and I rubbed my eye like something was in it, but really taking away the tear that was welling in it. “I see. . .” There was a second pause. “No. I don’t think I could do that - not finishing med school, and trying to juggle Cleveland and working in the mix.”

I expected that answer - I honestly did - but it still hurt. I didn’t feel like she’d turned me down hard, so to speak - she had just spoke from her heart, and her heart told her she wouldn’t be able to handle the distance.

“I understand,” I said, trying and failing to hold my emotions. “I didn’t expect that you’d say yes.”

She stepped over and put her arms around me, embracing me in a tight hug. She buried her face into my chest, and I felt her let a sob out. I just held her, trying so hard to force the tears back from my eye.

We held each other for what seemed like an eternity, but when we separated I instantly longed for her touch. She looked at me, also holding back tears. “You should have just asked me out before - maybe things would be different - but I just can’t be away from someone I care about like that.”

“Does this. . . does this mean that when I go, I won’t talk to you again?”

Her lip quivered. “No.” I felt a moment of relief, but it was dashed quickly. “But we couldn’t talk until we were both sure we were back to being the way we were before. . . before all this happened between us.”

Silence.

“And if that doesn’t happen, then I guess the answer would be ‘yes’.”

I nodded in understanding. I’d made my choice by now: without Lilley, I might as well just go to Seattle, I thought.

I headed back to my apartment shortly after. I’d cared for a lot of people in my life up to that point, and seen friends, lovers, and other people come and go, each time experiencing some kind of sadness - but nothing felt as bad as walking down the hall after that conversation with Lilley - not even losing Irene so abruptly.

I finally let the tears streamline down my face as I closed the door to my place. I was alone now, it didn’t matter what I did. I cried, and I cried, for what seemed like hours. I didn’t do anything else - I just let the emotion overcome me. I thought of Lilley’s face, her smile, her hair, and the time we’d spent together. I lay on the couch, and thought of her and the words to a song I’d listened to frequently:

She’ll never know I could never forget her
If I could write her a letter
I’d try with every line
To say she still remembers your touch
And I know that it’s not much
But you still haven’t lost her.


After a long while of pouring my emotions out, I finally resolved to call Turisman in the morning and tell him my choice, but not before I went to bed, my mind racing, my heart hurting, feeling so lonely both inside and out. I looked at the wall that faced her apartment, and imagined what she was doing. And finally, after exhausting myself with my tears, I fell into a sleep, filled with dreams of Lilley.


If only I had checked the phone.

[PBL Commish]

good stuff

[kenyan_cheena]

Excellent read. I don't know if this has been mentioned elsewhere in the thread, but have you ever considered submitting this story for publication?

[PBL Commish]

friendly bump

i miss this

[Jazzmosis]

It's by no means dead; I'm in my crunch time at school right now and am completely finished the year after April 18th... until then, I can say there's a 90% chance I won't drop a new chapter. It's half-written right now, but I know I won't get the opportunity to really get the amount of time I want until after exams..

But after that, I've got some pretty big plans for it.

[Jazzmosis]

I have returned! And after 4 exams, 3 films, 5 papers, and a whole lot of alcohol, my 3rd year is finally over, and summer has began. And what a better way to celebrate than by dropping a chapter? I've got all the free time in the world now, and I'm eager to get back to Jazzington.

I'll spare you the rest of the details, but instead I'll welcome myself back with a new, long awaited chapter. So just wait a few minutes, and chapter 74 will be up!

[Jazzmosis]

Chapter 74: A change of fortune

The morning started much like the last night finished. I awoke with painful thoughts of being alone, and slouched over as I walked, as if my back was sore. I dragged my feet from my bedroom to my kitchen, and poured myself some cereal. I wiped my eyes and headed to my phone, hoping that maybe, just maybe, Lilley had called and changed her mind.

My heart lifted slightly when I saw that there was two messages waiting for me. I took a bite of my cereal and pressed ‘play.’

“Mark, it’s Turisman. I hope you haven’t made your decision yet, because I’ve got a late breaking bulletin for you. I don’t want to say the figures over the phone, but I got a phone call from Oberg just now - he’s extending an offer to manage the Cubs. Call me back as soon as you can. Bye.”

I stood there, spoon hanging out of my mouth, staring at the phone. My mind was quickly trying to repatch the dismal future it’d started to throw at me in preparation. Suddenly, like a lightning-bolt, hope struck me. I was still trying to regain my consciousness when the next message started.

“Mark. It’s Rich Oberg - sorry I haven’t got back to you in awhile. I’m just letting you know here that I’ve extended an offer to you and your agent, Mr. Turisman - I don’t want to rush you or anything, but if you want to manage here we’re going to have to work something out this week. Hope to hear from you soon.”


I stood in silence for a moment as the messages ended. And then, all of the sudden, my body snapped into action. I picked up the phone and dialled Turisman’s number in a fury, quickly arranging to meet him in an hour at his office. I threw on some semi-respectable clothes and tossed (literally) the bowl into the sink, hurrying to put on my shoes. I bolted out the door and to the elevator, taking a quick look at Lilley’s door before the elevator shut and started to descend. I jumped into my car and flew to Turisman’s office, nervous excitement bubbling inside me.

Turisman greeted me with a smile and a handshake. “You’re early.”

“Good news doesn’t wait.” I responded, with a returning smile.

“Well, I’ll get right into it,” he said as he pulled out some papers. “Chicago’s offering a 1 year contract with a mutual option for 2011.”

“That’s a change from their previous offer of nothing.” I said.

He smiled. “You can say that again. Oberg offered up 1 million for this coming year, and the option is worth 1.5 million. Of course, it comes with conditions.”

“What’s the conditions?”

“He wants you to compete again. If you don’t, then he said they’ll probably cancel his side of the option.”

“Sounds fair,” I retorted.

“At first glance, yeah. But ‘compete’ is a term left almost entirely up to him. If you ask me, if you’re not in the running to the last week of September, you could probably kiss that second year goodbye. I’ve seen contracts like these before. Now Cleveland is offering a guaranteed two years - but I know that you want to go back to Chicago. So I’m just letting you know.”

I swallowed once. “Why would they put an offer like this then? Are they expecting me to reject it?”

“Well they’re putting forth an offer like this for what I suspect is two reasons - the first being that they know you want to come back very badly, so you’re more likely to take a worse offer - which is what I see in this contract - themselves giving themselves a lot of control.”

“And the second?”

“I’ve followed their interview process - some big managers have gone through - Jonas Sanson being one - and chances are, the pricetag is too high. I’m not going to lie to you - a manager with your track record of success deserves about 2 million a year, minimum. But until you see a world series game, I think most teams will look at your age and career record before anything else.”

“What does that mean?”

“It means that if you take Chicago, you’ll have a good chance of going to the playoffs - and that’ll get you more name recognition. If you go to Cleveland, you’ll have security, but that team needs work. If you go to Seattle, you could make the playoffs there, but it’ll be getting used to a whole new amount of players. It’s ultimately your choice, of course.”

I thought about it for a moment. “Call me selfish, but I don’t feel like heading to Cleveland and piloting another young team up the standings - I’ve done that with Arizona already, and then I got booted. I’ve done it with Chicago as well, now - but even with that contract, at least I still have the chance to keep going.”

“So, it’s Chicago then?”

“Call them, tell them I’ll accept the deal, so long as can split that total contract into even halves.”

“Pardon?”

“Well the deal’s worth 2.5 over 2 years, right? Tell them I want 1.25 this year guaranteed, and they can make the option worth 1.25 instead of 1.5.”

“Why do that?”

“Well you said they’ve got me in a corner, right? You’d know more than me about this, but I’m just guessing that they backloaded the offer so it’s easier to get rid of me in the second year. Frame it this way, and they’ll be hard pressed to say no if it’s for the same price, no?”

“It can happen that way, although they usually backload because they don’t have the financial resources right now, but expect to in the future.”

I snorted. “Trust me, Chicago is not short on funds. Tell them half/half, or they can find another overpriced manager that can do what I can. Pitch it something like that.”

Turisman smirked. “You sound like an agent.”

I smiled back. “Trust me, I’m not.”


I headed back home, feeling much better than in the morning. I ran over to Lilley’s apartment, and knocked on the door. I almost felt stupid now for saying everything I did last night; and I wondered if she’d even listen to what I had to say now. My mind raced around what I would say as I waited for her to answer. Impatiently, I knocked again. And again. Finally, I made the assumption that she was out and I headed back to my apartment, and picked up the phone.

I got her voicemail on her cell. “Hey Lilley, it’s Mark. I’ve got something really important to tell you, so call me back when you’ve got a free moment to talk.”

I wondered to myself, again, how it all sounded. She would be well aware of the polar opposites one night has brought in my attitude; I just wondered what condition she would be in when she heard the message. All I had to do was wait and find out, though.


I remember this day quite well, but not because of its eventfulness - in fact, quite the opposite. I sat around my apartment waiting for phone calls from both Turisman and Lilley, trying to kill the time anyway I could. I watched TV, I lifted weights, went out and played pool, had a few drinks, slept with the phone near my ear, and walked around the block a few times in the frigid air. And no matter what I did, the minutes seemed to drip by, the clock hand moved slower and slower each time I glanced.

It wasn’t until after I returned from my third round of the block when the phone actually rang. I hurried to answer, and heard a familiar voice.

“Mark,” Lilley’s voice sounded through the receiver, and my smile returned. “You called?”

“Yes I did.” I responded, trying to act calm.

“So, what’s the important thing you want to say?” Her voice was cold; she was undoubtedly still hurting from the night before.

“I. . . I’d rather not say it over the phone. Can I come over?”

She paused. “After what you said to me last night? I’m not sure. . .”

“No! No!” I pleaded. “I just want to talk to you in person. . . it’s related to last night, I guess, but, if you’ll just listen to me...”

“Alright, fine.” She responded.

I hurried out my door and down the hallway, trying hard to keep my excitement from getting the better of me. I looked at my old jeans and my white zip-up hoodie as I knocked on the door, and wondered if what I was wearing would be appropriate for what I was about to spill out of my mouth. I was in the middle of second-guessing myself when Lilley opened the door - wearing her usual pair of jeans and a green, low-cut sweater over a white top.

Not waiting for an invitation, I hurried in and turned to face her once she was between myself and the door. Her demeanor was colder, her stance more rigid - not surprising to me at the time, though. I was busy losing myself in anxious, nervous anticipation while my brain tried to quickly sort out the words I was about to say.

“So, what did you have to say?” She asked, her tone very blunt.

“First, I’m sorry about last night; I didn’t men for it to sound so harsh, or put you in that kind of situation. But believe me when I say that things could be better.”

“Oh?” Her voice still was ripe with skepticism.

“My agent contacted me earlier and informed me that Chicago’s made an offer to me. Two years, to be exact.”

Her eyes widened momentarily, but she quickly repressed them. “Oh yeah?”

“Yeah. It’s great news for me, all around. I’m trying to balance out the contract for more security, but I think I’ll accept irregardless.”

“Congratulations.”

I stopped - I didn’t expect Lilley to come flying into my arms with the news, but she was being far more hostile than I expected. I swallowed hard, pushed my excitement down, and let my concern come to the forefront. “Why so cold?”

She glanced her eyes away for a moment, undoubtedly gathering her thoughts. “I’m just wrapping my head around the last few days. You come in and tell me you’re leaving, that you want to continue this relationship - you dash what we had going - you hurt me - and now one day later, everything’s turned back around and you’re acting like you didn’t say anything before; that this decision would be it, and that I would just willingly go along with it. Is this what it is, Mark? If I just come back, how would I know that this wouldn’t just keep happening, over and over?”

I stepped back, partially offended. “I told you what I did yesterday because I didn’t know what I do now - trust me, I held off saying anything for so long until I was sure that I was going to leave - and I can’t help it if overnight everything I planned changed. Do you think I really wanted to put you through this? If it was so easy for me to break you and I apart, why would I have waited until the middle of December to do so?”

“How should I know?” She retorted sharply, her voice raising an octave.

“You should know! Cause you do know! You know as well as I do that if Chicago had offered me something right away we wouldn’t have gone through everything yesterday! You damn well know that I care about you, or I wouldn’t have came to you yesterday at all asking if it would work between us if I was in Cleveland! I’ve put off so much between you and I because I wanted to make sure I was here for awhile before I asked you to be with me! Yesterday was what I thought was the end of any relationship chance with you!” If I wasn’t screaming at the beginning, I sure was now, my face red with anger and humiliation.

“Maybe it was!” She screamed back, just as loud and passionate as I gave.

“No, it wasn’t, goddamn it! I was damn ****ing wrong about that - but only by one day! I should have known that the second I walked in here, it was over today!” I strode for her - quickly.

Startled by my sudden movement, and halfway-ready to wallop me with words, Lilley stepped to her side, as if expecting me to try and hit her. Instead, she bumped into the wall of her doorway, while I stepped past her and out the door of her apartment and into the hallway. I turned to see her spinning to face me, her face a mixture of shock, anger, and embarrassment that I’d stormed out on her, and got the last word in. Not waiting for her to try and stop me, I grabbed the handle of the door and wrenched it shut - giving it, at the time, a rather satisfying slam.


I huffed back into my apartment, just in time to hear the phone ringing. I grasped it hastily, expecting it to be Lilley launching into another verbal tirade. “What??!” I yelled into the receiver.

“Whoa!” A startled male voice responded.
My tone dropped immediately. “Oh! Sorry, who is this?”
“It’s your agent, Marvin Turisman.”
“Oh christ, I expected you to be someone else.”
“Someone I bet you couldn’t wait to talk to, from the sounds of it.”
“Heh - it’s a long story. Anyway, what’s the word?”
“I’ve got some good news for you.”
“Really?”

“Chicago agreed to the contract; I didn’t even have to argue it. So as of right now, all you’ve got to do is sign the agreement, and you’re re-upped with Chicago for two more years.”

“I’ll be there as soon as I can to sign that agreement.”

Within a moment of hanging up, I was out the door and heading to Chicago’s head office to put my name on the dotted line. I was back with Chicago for two more years; but I’d lost Lilley. I had to weigh the pros and cons - and without Lilley, I told myself to focus on baseball - and that through it, I would eventually be able to put Lilley behind me.


A week passed without any contact with Lilley - in any form, not even in the hallway. I was hurt, but the press conference with Chicago to announce the resigning, and trying to catch up with the team’s moves was taking my time. For Christmas, two weeks after my altercation with Lilley, I headed back to Ontario to spend the holidays with my family. My sister, married for a few years now, and in her 30th year, had just gave birth to her and her husband’s first child - making me an uncle at 24 - and named him David. I filled them, and my mother and father, in on my new contract, even though they knew already, and caught up with them after nearly three years of not seeing any of them. My dad had retired; help in part to some of the money I’d gave them to pay off their mortgage quickly.


I flew back on January 3rd, and immediately began looking at the transaction history Chicago had since the end of the season. Clifton Simoneaux, Tom Raht (a minor league pitcher) and Dave Dolman had been dealt to Seattle of all places, for a young starting prospect named Alberto Quinones.

Around the same time, definite hall-of-fame thirdbaseman, Pedro Deguzman had signed on board for 4 years - taking him up to 38 years old in a Chicago jersey. Rightfield George Martinez was dealt across town in exchange for a 35 year old catcher named Dennis Talmadge. Talmadge was going to assume the starting catching role, because Oberg had been exceptionally busy, dealing Cancio to Baltimore - in exchange for young gun starter Gregory Jackson, who was had a brutal 6.21 ERA in 187 innings last year, but was only 22.

It looked like I was dealing with a bunch of new faces; but at the same time, big things were expected from Jackson, and Talmadge was known for calling good games. And of course, Deguzman was only 7 home runs away from 600.

Analyzing the transactions and studying possible lineups filled most of my time throughout January. I had a lot of press conferences to attend, and it was there that I met the players and got re-acquainted with some of the old staff. I was preparing to move into a better place for the upcoming season, deciding that I could afford it. I had to head to Florida for spring training in a week, and was nearly about to sign a new lease before heading off.

However, it was that day that the phone rang. I answered it with little thought, and heard the voice on the other end.

“Mark.”

I swallowed hard. I had basically, out of bitterness, forced myself to let go of Lilley, and the emotions were pushing their way back in through the door.

“It’s Lilley.” She spoke, responding to my silence.
“I know,” I replied quietly.
“I heard you were moving out.”
“That’s right.”
“Do you want to come over for a bit, if you’ve got the spare time?”

I thought about it for a moment. So much of me wanted to slam the phone down, but so much more of me wanted to go over there. I finally responded with “I’ve got a few minutes.”

I made the walk down the hallway and rapped my knuckles on her door. I heard a shuffling on the other end, and the door opened in front of my face.

There she was - I hadn’t seen her in a month, and I was staring like I’d never laid my eyes on her before. She just gestured me in.

“Do you want anything to drink?”

“Uh, whatever you’re having.”

She disappeared into the kitchen for a second while I sat on her couch. Upon returning, she handed me a beer and took a sip from hers. She sat next to me and gave a small smile. I took a big gulp from my beer as she started to speak. “Why didn’t you tell me you were leaving the apartment?”

My eyes widened. “If you didn’t know, we haven’t spoke in nearly a month.”

“I know. But still, if I was leaving, wouldn’t you want me to say goodbye?”

I swallowed. “Maybe before everything that happened.”

She put her hand on my arm. “What if I told you something?”

I looked at her auspiciously. “Something?”

“I thought a lot this last month, and I’ve decided that I want to give this a try.”
“Give what?”
“Us.”
“Decided?”
“Yeah.”
“You’ve decided now that I’m good enough?”

She sighed a little and moved her eyes away from mine. “It’s not like that. Just listen to me: I was hurt before, because I wanted the same thing you did. But when you came back on what you said I just thought that it’d be how it is; being with you would mean that I’d have to put up with you leaving the city... maybe for good.”

“That’s my job.”

“It took me this month to sort everything out that I feel, that I think, that I want. And I realized something.”

“What?”

“That you and I have always remained friends even with you leaving the city a lot. It didn’t bother me then - so I don’t know why it would if I was with you.”

“Go on...”

“I’m happy with you, Mark. If you’re willing to give it a shot still, you just have to tell me so.”

I stood up and turned away, walking a few paces. “I’m leaving to Florida in a week, and just about to sign a new lease. How would you deal with that?”

She hesitated for a moment. “The same way I dealt with it before. But, what if I told you that maybe. . .”
“. . . maybe what?”
“. . . maybe we could get a place. . . together.”
“Whoa. That’s moving pretty damn fast.”
“It could work, though. We wouldn’t get on each other’s nerves; we’d have plenty of time to be alone if needed.”
“Yeah, but I’m not even dating you yet... and even if I was, I’d still want to make sure we could handle each other before moving in together.”
There was a pause. “Then, why don’t we start by being together?”

I looked at her, trying to decide if it was just a plea or sincerity. I got closer to her, watching for her reaction. “Do you think its worth a shot?”

She smirked casually. “We only have one life - I don’t want to spend it wondering ‘what if’.”

“Okay. Then I’ll give it a shot.”

And just like that - after months of speculation, uncertainty, and misery - my offseason plan ended up exactly as I wanted it - back with Chicago, and with Lilley.

[RoyalsBlue]

Yes!

I think that sums it up!

[PBL Commish]

nice chapter

glad ur back

[Jazzmosis]

Hey guys, sorry that I haven't updated Jazzington in a looooooong time. This summer found me busier than usual, as I took on a second job and started training for a future mountain biking trip in the Rockie Mountains. Other personal issues got in the way as well. This coming school year doesn't look super-promising for another update on Jazzington's career, but I have continued to play his career and keep notes. Some future chapters have been written, based solely on that it fit the storyline I've got in mind, but unfortunately the current chapter's progress is sluggish. I've been juggling a lot, and that has meant that Jazzington has taken a back seat for now.

However, do not take this as the end of this story. In fact, last week I wrote a sizeable chunk of the next chapter, so the passion to write is still there. I'm in my final year of school, so after April I expect the chapters will return with regularity. In the meantime, please remain patient as I work out the larger issues in my life. I expect there'll be a few chapters released here and there, but I can't commit to a regular schedule.

Sorry guys; hope you understand. I'm itching to write about Jazzington, but he'll have to wait.