Mark Jazzington - a managerial career

[Jazzmosis]

Chapter 18: Hensley, Tabloids, and the Turnaround

August started with a bang - 4 straight losses. Nothing was going right - the outfield threw balls away that cost us games. Look wasn’t even getting chances to save the game, so I was using him in short relief. The starting pitching was crumbling, leaving the games out of the reach for the offense.

On the 7th, we broke the streak. Vasser managed the win, improving to 3-1. He took all the credit for it, of course. Meanwhile, Look got his first save since June 23rd. That’s right. He went a full month without a save.

Despite the starting pitching fallacies, Hensley was solid. In his first three major league starts, he’d gone 2-0 with a 1.35 ERA. There was some light at the end of the tunnel. We started to pick up the slack, which was sparked by a two home run night by Moreno. And to prove there was a god and he liked the Diamondbacks, the team got some great news during the game of August 12th.

Vasser was on the hill, pitching in the second inning. On a fastball, one of the trainers saw him wince and reach for his arm. He stopped immediately, fearing someone would see him. However, the trainer brought it to my attention. I immediately called time, and hustled out onto the field.

“Arm hurting, Vasser?” I asked.

“You joking, Skip? Feels like a gem,” he responded as Morford stepped up to the mound to return the ball.

“The trainer saw you wince and go for your arm. Let him take a look at it.”

Vasser twisted away from the trainer. “I’m fine, Skip. Just lemme pitch already.”

I sighed. I’ve heard of team members playing through pain, but this was serious. I knew how to trap him, though. “Fine. Just throw a pitch to Morford.”

Vasser nodded and smirked, thinking he’d won. “K, but you’ll find nothing.” Morford hustled back to the plate, and James tossed an air-ball. He immediately winced, but refused to touch his arm. “See. . .? Fine. . .”

“I’m taking you out, Vasser. Go see the doctor.”

At first he protested, but eventually gave up. For a young guy with a good future ahead of him, he sure was stupid.

The game itself was a disaster, as it went 11 innings and ended when I put backup infielder Jeffery Sosa in to pitch. We had just taken the lead by two runs, but there was no pitcher available. Sosa got his first taste of pitching and ended up giving up the lead on a two-out, bases loaded double. The good news was that Vasser was out for two weeks with a sore biceps muscle.

We faded to 8 games from San Francisco before turning the month around. Hensley pitched another gem, outplaying Cy Young candidate Dalton Cook from Chicago. His performance started a trend, as Yorikazu and Giichi both turned out gems of their own. Before we knew it, we found ourselves back in the race. Not for the division, but for the Wildcard. San Diego, Colorado, Houston, Cincinnati and Milwaukee were all in the hunt. Although Milwaukee and Cincinnati were also both going for the division, it was predicted that one of the two would take the wildcard. And now, we’d dipped our name in the water.

I also started hanging out with Hensley during this time. I had friends in both Dewberry and Look, but there was a generation gap between us. Hensley, on the other hand, was only 22 to my 20. Originally, he just asked me if there was any bars worth going to in Phoenix. I took him to some of the places I frequented when on home swings, and it grew from there. He was still adjusting to his newfound fame and large paychecks. Many times we would be walking down the street in downtown Phoenix and all these girls and guys would swarm him, asking for his autograph. A few people asked for mine, but I wasn’t as well known as the people that actually played the game. Being a good sport and a gentleman, he would stand there and sign autographs until everyone was satisfied.

There were times that he would be signing autographs for so long, the tabloids would catch wind of it, and appear to snap pictures for their various scandals. Some of the articles were hilarious. His face and mine once appeared on the front page of “The Inspector”, a picture of Hensley signing a girl’s shirt and me standing beside him. The headline boasted “HENSLEY FAVORS GIRL’S CHEST; JAZZINGTON JEALOUS?” I laughed so hard when I saw the headline that I bought a copy and stored it in my apartment’s empty room.

However, I learned something more interesting on the 20th. Hensley and I were talking on the field during a routine practice.

“How’s the arm feeling?” I asked.

“Good, Mark. Why, am I pitching?”

“Absolutely. I was just making conversation, is all.”

“I see. What’s up?”

“Nothing. You want to get together or something after the game?” I inquired.

“Sure. You want to meet at a bar?”

I thought it over. “How about I meet you at your place? I have a few things to do first.”

Hensley hesitated before answering. “...Sure, I guess.”


The game itself went fine, Hensley receiving a no decision despite giving up only one run. I went to his place after the game, only to discover a strange fact - it was a hotel. I met up with him with questions. “Why a hotel? Don’t you have your own place?”

Hensley shuffled his feet. “I haven’t been able to find one close enough to the park that’s affordable.”

I changed the subject, but just before we arrived at the bar, I had a brainwave. “You know, I’ve got a spare room in my apartment. Would you be interested? You and I could split the rent, and you wouldn’t have to worry about finding a place.”

Hensley thought about it for a second. “Sure - I mean, if you don’t mind. I wouldn’t want to impose.”

I shrugged. “Nah, it’d be fine. I’d just have to clear it with the landlord.”

“He have any rules?”

I smirked. “ ‘Don’t burn down the apartment’, that’s what he told me.”


The next day I cleared it with my landlord and told Hensley. Graciously, he accepted the invitation and moved in by the 25th. I now had a roommate. We had both managed to avoid the media in the move, so nobody knew he lived here accept the neighbours. When I was young, I had always wondered what it would be like to live next to a superstar - now I was living with one. Suddenly I found myself wondering what the neighbours felt. . .


As a team we finished August on a four game winning streak, pushing our record to 71-66, 3 games behind the wildcard-leading Rockies. Hensley had a 3.07 ERA and a 3-1 record, which was a definite boost to the 4.98 Giichi led the staff with. However, Yo****ora had 13 wins, Torres was close to passing the 100K mark with 97, and Kenneth had 175.1 innings under his belt. And like usual, Look led the team with 29 saves. We had gone 14-15 on the month, which would be considered a disappointment, but up until the last week we were looking at a potential 10-19 record on the month. We had stayed in the hunt for playoffs, fans were coming to see the games, and we were primed for a wild September chase.

What a chase it would be.

[Jazzmosis]

Here were are, starting out the new year with a new chapter.

Not much to say about this without ruining it... so I'll just lay it out for you to read.

Enjoy!

[Jazzmosis]

Chapter 19: The Battle for October Grounds


The month started with Eastwood’s callups. This was a fairly new thing, as the offense had remained untouched for the entire year. Having that kind of stability was a privilege, as most teams have at least one turnover before September. But even the backups Arizona had were contributing, so nobody was called up or sent down. The health of the club was another large reason we had stayed in contention. With few injuries to speak of, Eastwood found himself with little to do except negotiate contract extensions and watch the minor leagues.

However, with the expanded rosters, I found myself with three new faces, and four more players to play. Bolick had been sent down mid-season for Hennessey, but with solid figures in AAA, he returned to the club to provide an extra arm in the pen. The other three were all outfielders, each weathered travellers between the top and AAA throughout their careers. Bruce Ceballos, the 30 year old leftfielder, had knocked in 36 home runs down in the farm. Marcos Martinez, a 27 year old centerfielder, had done one better and hit .328 with 44 home runs. And finally, Dominican born Andre Gonzalez manned rightfield, the 30 year old parking 32 home runs and knocking in 116. Eastwood told me to give them notice they would receive limited playing time. I still did my best to give them some time, but what could a manager to with seven outfielders?

September started fairly evenly - Hensley won his 4th game, Vasser followed that with a 8 inning performance, and Manuel Torres picked up some slack and ‘improved’ to 7-13 the day after. On the 7th, Delph became the third member of the team to reach 100 RBIs, behind Yong Renick and Michael Gongora.

But the bottom line was: after the first week of play, we still sat three games out of the wildcard. Colorado had faltered - Cincinnati now led the hunt.

And how’s this for a surprise story? Philadelphia became the first team to clinch their division, taking the NL East’s crown on September 9th. It was the earliest a team had ever clinched a division after finishing as the worst team in baseball the year before. In fact, it had never been done. No team had ever gone from worst to best in one year. The strange thing was, Philadelphia didn’t change their team much from the previous year - everything just clicked.


The Diamondbacks, meanwhile, were playing their heart out for me. I told them to take risks during the game - the next thing I knew, D-Rod would steal home. I told them to play it safe, and Ronnie Smith would go from first to home in a bad throw - to second base. That play was disgusting in so many ways. Smith broke early from first, and Cincinnati’s catcher John Williams airmailed a hurried throw over the bag. Ronnie immediately rushed to third, taking a hard slide that knocked over the third baseman as the throw came in. The ball skipped off the wall, Smith pushed the dazed defender off him and dashed for home. The leftfielder, already running to back up the play, grabbed the ball and hurtled it to the plate, only to have Ronnie beat the throw and score. A bizarre play by any account, but this was in the 13th inning and Smith scored the winning run. There was controversy about his slide into third, but later investigation decided that no malicious intent was there.

On the same day (11th), the White Sox once again clinched the AL Central. They were hot on the heels of Philly for the best record in baseball.

Over the next week, the wildcard lead changed hands between San Diego, Milwaukee, Colorado, and Cincinnati. Meanwhile, Houston and my club stayed just out of reach.

Dominic Rodriguez claimed the most hits in a season as a Diamondback on the 14th, rapping his 206th shot. However, we proceeded to blow the lead in the next three straight games. Only Manuel Torres could stop the bleeding as he sported his 8th victory on the 17th.

On September 18th, we sat four games out of the wildcard, with ten games to go. I had called a team meeting that day, and was surprised to see everyone there well ahead of time. Even Vasser, who was building his reputation for being late, sat quietly in a chair. We had been swirled into the playoff hunt, and every man on the team could taste October on their tongues. I had analysed tape with the coaches before the game, and had come in to discuss strategy for the last games.

“Guys, I’m not going to lie to you,” I started. “We’re on the outside looking in.” I paused to gauge the reaction, which wasn’t much. I had merely stated what everyone knew but didn’t want to admit. “And we have to put on a hell of a show if we’re going to bypass the four teams ahead of us. I know as well as you all do here that the schedule is in our favour. We play three teams, and they’re all below .500. We need to utilize this. Milwaukee plays three games against Cincinnati in this time. That means we only have to focus on the loser of that series. I could tell you that when I look around this room, I don’t see rookies and veterans, I see a team - but you all already know that. And we all know the tension between some team members. Well I’m going to be very clear here: Individuals don’t win games.” I stared directly at Vasser when I spoke. “You may throw a great pitch, but there’s a catcher that’s catching it. You may make a diving stop, but you’ve still got to throw the ball to another teammate. You may get on base, but you still need someone to drive you in.” I smirked ever so slightly. “Unless you’re Ronnie Smith, of course.” That received subdued laughs. “All I’m saying is that we play as a team, we win as a team. And there is no team more deserving to go than us. Why? Because nobody thinks we can.” I paused again. “Let’s go prove them wrong.”

It seemed a bit too overdone when I look back on it, but it was just what I was thinking at the time - I didn’t write any of that down. However, the team responded and swept Florida. Unfortunately, Cincinnati swept Milwaukee, and Colorado swept Washington. In the end, we were still four games out, now with only seven to play.

I received personal security on the 24th, however. We won our 81st game, guaranteeing a .500 season, and my job for the next year. Meanwhile Anaheim, San Francisco, and Boston clinched their divisions. All that remained was the NL Central and the wildcards. Kansas City has won 9 straight and given Toronto plenty to worry about for the AL’s final spot. And we were one of the last surviving teams in the NL.

Our day finally came on the 25th, when we played Colorado. Colorado, Milwaukee, and San Diego shared the wild card. We played in the afternoon, and fought our way to a must-win, 8-5 victory. Just as our game ended, Milwaukee’s began. Nobody left the clubhouse, as we watched the Cubs spark a 5 run 8th inning to win, 5-3, and keep us alive. We immediately turned to the San Diego game, which was still in progress. They were playing Los Angeles, and deadlocked at 2 apiece. The game went into the 10th inning, when LA’s Marshall Woody blasted a 1-out bomb to put them ahead 3-2. The clubhouse cheered - we were still in it.

The bottom of the tenth started. San Diego grounded into an out before putting a runner on first and second. Everyone was silent. A fly ball out moved the runners up a base. And with two outs, a September callup named Greg Thurman rapped a fly ball to deep right-centre. Players yelled “catch it” as we watched Marshall Woody dash for the ball and make a dive at the track. The ball hit the tip of his mitt, and bounced onto the dirt.

We were finished. San Diego scored twice and won, 4-3.


The last two games were meaningless, and we split them with a W and a L. The season ended for the Arizona Diamondbacks on September 27th, with a final record of 83-79.

San Diego and Milwaukee tied for the wildcard and had a one game playoff that SD took, 8-2. Toronto had taken the AL Wildcard by a game over KC. At least I had someone to cheer for in the offseason.

Overall, there was plenty of success to build on. Dominic Rodriguez hit a blazing .360 on the year, third best in baseball. He also led the club with 42 stolen bases. Four guys had more than 20 home runs, Antonio Moreno joining Delph, Renick, and Gongora. Yong paced the team with 128 RBI’s, and Giichi and Yorikazu tied for the staff lead in wins with 13 each. Sadly, the leading ERA was 5.20 from Yori, who was one of only three to pitch enough innings to qualify. Hensley turned out to be the only pitcher in the rotation under 4.70, finishing with a 3.28 ERA and a 4-2 record. Much to my delight and dismay, Vasser faded to a 4.71 ERA. But he was more or less guaranteed a spot in the rotation next year. Joy - another year of headaches. Meanwhile, Chris Look had 35 saves, 3rd most in all of baseball. As he put it - “It’s like having 35 honeymoons.”

And Caroline called me to congratulate me on a winning season. In all the excitement, I hadn’t called her for three weeks. Unlike Lacey, Carla didn’t seem to care as much. She had gone to college in Chicago, so I didn’t have to call her on the basis that I didn’t know her number - despite receiving her email containing it. Hensley and I were getting along great, and he felt no need to leave Phoenix for the winter - and neither did I. And best of all: I could sign another year on the apartment.

[cubuff38]

Another great chapter, for a while there I thought you may well snag that final spot. There's always next year.....

[Jazzmosis]

Thanks for the kind words, and don't worry, there's plenty more to come in terms of surprises.

[Jazzmosis]

Ah, Chapter 20. I'm not going to say much, but I think it's the most interesting of all the chapters...

[Jazzmosis]

Chapter 20: The Year Ended with a Bang


The playoffs started with a bang, that saw Chicago get eliminated by Toronto in a huge 3 game sweep. Philadelphia continued their miracle run, taking out San Diego in five, while Cincinnati and Anaheim also progressed. I decided to attend a few games in the Anaheim/Toronto ALCS, buying tickets and attending the games in California. It was sold out as expected, and there was a surprising number of Canadian fans cheering for their first World Series berth since 1993. I went to games two and six, and got to join in the celebrations as Toronto ousted the Angels. Meanwhile, Philadelphia rolled over Cincinnati, sweeping the series. This would be quite a showdown. The Phils were trying to become the first team in baseball history to go from worst team in baseball to World Series Champs.

I couldn’t get to any of the games as they were on the east coast. Philadelphia won the first game, 5-2. Then, the second game, 4-1. Toronto looked sluggish in the third game, and lost 6-3. Philly fans were cheering madly, as they had all but locked up history.

However, they were not going to sweep. Toronto came back and won game four 5-0, courtesy of a commanding outing from Paul Williams. In game five, the Blue Jays staged a heroic 9th inning comeback and won 4-3, sending the series back to Canada. I could feel my hope rising, but Philadelphia had everything going for them - their #1 on the mound versus the Blue Jays’ #4. But surprisingly, the series was pushed to a decisive game seven after a 5-3 victory. And Toronto had Paul Williams on the mound for it.

And what a masterpiece the game turned out to be. Williams went 8 innings, giving up only 3 hits and 2 walks. Canada once again celebrated as the crown went north, completed with a 2-0 victory over the mighty Philadelphia. I couldn’t believe it. Toronto had comeback from 3-0 down and won the World Series.

This started the official off-season. The biggest name in the pool was coveted by virtually every team - the World Series MVP Paul Williams.

Meanwhile, I kept in touch with Caroline, and spent most of my Christmas break with her. Hensley had gone home to his family for the holidays, which left me alone. I spent some time catching up with old friends, but for the most part I didn’t do anything. I did spend one day rather unusually, however. I was relaxing in my apartment when I got the phone call from Daniel Eastwood.

“Hey, Jazzington.”

“Hello Mr. Eastwood. What’s the good word?” I had always wanted to say that.

“Can you come down to the stadium today?”

I was a little confused, but agreed. I immediately headed to the stadium, and when I got there I once again met up with Eastwood.

“What do you need?” I asked, shaking his hand.

“We’ve got a situation.” Eastwood responded. “Remember James Vasser?”

I sighed. “Yes. Now what’s he done?”

“He’s been shot.”

I stared at Eastwood blankly, half in shock. “You mean. . . he’s dead?”

Daniel looked away, adjusting his glasses and running his hand through his thick brown hair. “No.”

“Then what happened?”

“He was in a club in Phoenix, picked a fight with some guy, and got shot.”

Now Eastwood was really losing me. Vasser didn’t live anywhere near Phoenix. “He lives in Milwaukee, though. He told me himself.”

“That’s what has us puzzled, as well. We have no idea why he would come down to Phoenix for the holidays. He has no family here.”

“Unless. . .” I speculated aloud, “unless there was a girl down here he had a thing for. Or he owed money. . . or even drugs.”

Eastwood cut me off. “It’s not drugs. Police ran drug tests after they took him to the hospital. He came up clean.”

“We’ll have to ask him.”

“We can’t talk to him until he’s recovered enough. Then the police get to talk to him before anyone else.”

“Where was he shot?”

Eastwood raised two fingers. “Once in the stomach - once in the chest. He’s lucky to be alive. The bullet grazed a rib.”

“What do you want me to do, though?” I asked, wondering what I had to do with this whole ordeal.

“You’re closer to his age than we are. If you could talk to him in the hospital in a few days, it’d be nice.”

I sighed heavily. “Alright, I’ll see what I can get out of him. But don’t expect any miracles.”


I waited a week, celebrating New Years with Caroline. She seemed a bit detached, and got very uneasy when I told her about the shooting. They were still looking for suspects - nobody seemed to know anything. Hensley agreed to come with me to visit Vasser. ‘He could use a familiar face’, he told me. So, two days after New Years Eve, Hensley and I visited JV in the hospital.

“How are you doing, Jay?” Hensley asked.

Vasser looked beat up, but was still Vasser. “****ing fantastic. What do you think?”

Hensley ignored JV’s comment. “Healing up good? We’re going to need you this year.”

“I get out in a few days. Then I have to report to the ****ing trainers and rehab bitches to get my arm back to strength.”

I stepped forward. When Vasser looked at me, he cracked a unusually wide smile. “Didn’t see you there, Skip.”

I smirked in return to his smile. “So what happened? Everyone’s dying to know.” I clenched my mouth after saying that.

“I dunno. I was with this chick at The 7, we were just chillin’, you know. . . then this big **** comes up to me and starts saying all this ****. I wasn’t takin’ any of that ****, so I decked the ****er. Next thing I know, he pumps two rounds into me and makes off with my girl.”

“Who was the girl?” Hensley asked.

“Just this chick. She said she’d seen me play, so I figured I could take her around for a bit. . . thought maybe she’d put out.” JV responded bluntly.

“You came from Milwaukee to get laid?” I cut in. “You mean there was no girls in Milwaukee willing to go with you?”

“Milwaukee girls don’t know **** ‘bout D’backs, Skip. They’re all into the football guys and the Brewers. ****in’ Brewers.”

I shrugged. “So you got shot over a girl you came down from Milwaukee for? Why didn’t she see you?”

Vasser let out a strange, probably painful laugh. “No chick wants to go to Milwaukee in the winter. Plus she goes to college and was home for the holidays.”

We eventually left, and Vasser was released on the 5th. But little did I know, this saga was going to rage on before closing just before spring training. And what a shock it would be for Hensley and I.

[RchW]

Love this serialization, but you can't cut off so soon. The suspense is killing me.

[GoCubsAndJays]

Go Jays!

[cibl commish]

Another excellent chapter.. and the suspense is a painful, however nice touch

[cubuff38]

Maybe the girl was Lacey.........

But prolly not.

But maybe..........

[WWBL Commissioner]

good stuff, looking forward to the next installment

[Tib]

Thanks a million, Jazz. Now I'm going to have to rewrite the part where Theo Garner gets shot in a bar.

Good chapter, nice surprises, and your dialogue (always tricky) is getting better and better.

[Jazzmosis]

Sorry Tib But it's hard to keep things that have happened to Driscoll from happening here. You totally stole my Japan idea. We're even now

I've been trying to develop characters more through dialogue than anything else - I think that's how I got Dewberry's image done right. And while Vasser's a jerk, writing his dialogue and attitude is always the most fun. Speaking of Dewberry, he's not out of the story just yet!

Meanwhile, everyone will have to wait until Sunday for the next chapter (to drag the suspense out even more!) because I'll be out of town Friday and Saturday. But oh. . . the shock some of you will have over what happened! I've been working on this since the start of Jazz's Arizona job. . . so it's going to be BIG.

Till Sunday.

[cknox0723]

Just got caught up, Jazz -- great work. I've got my own thoughts on Vasser's little flame, but I'll keep it to myself. Looking forward to the next one.

[The Funk]

Originally Posted by Jazzmosis

Meanwhile, everyone will have to wait until Sunday for the next chapter (to drag the suspense out even more!) because I'll be out of town Friday and Saturday. But oh. . . the shock some of you will have over what happened! I've been working on this since the start of Jazz's Arizona job. . . so it's going to be BIG.

Damn, I'm in suspense now. Lookin' forward to it!

[Jazzmosis]

Here we are, at long last: Chapter 21 of Mark Jazzington. This solves the mystery and cuts out the suspense that has had you all gripped for so long.

However, I have to warn you: This chapter has very course language and adult themes, so (although I doubt it) you may get offended at some parts.

It'll be up in a few minutes. Enjoy!

[Jazzmosis]

Chapter 21: The Real Deal with a Side of Irony


As Eastwood kept me informed on the progress of James, January casually strolled by. The somewhat improved fanbase around the Diamondbacks was growing restless waiting for some moves to be made. Truth be told, so was I. Although Hensley and Vasser provided a boost to a otherwise disappointing rotation, it was clear that more pitching was needed. Rumours had swirled all over the place about the potential signing of free agent Paul Williams, but Eastwood eventually pulled out of the race when the price tag got far too high. And with the loss of Free Agent Yorikazu Yo****ora to Baltimore, there was nothing left that Arizona could pick up pitching-wise.

This left many fans distraught. However, help started coming from unique places. The first was a young gun. Starting pitcher Kelly Banta, a 20 year old right hander from Newmont, was claimed off waivers from Washington. He was immediately given a spring training invite, but would end up in AAA to start the year.

A few days after, David Tillson signed a 1 year contract. His ERA was a less-than-impressive 5.11, but the 29 year old reliever would provide injury insurance from AAA.

On the same day, Dominican-born Oswaldo Jimenez was claimed off waivers from Milwaukee. The 25 year old had no major league experience, but had good potential. He was also a left-handed specialist, but ultimately the 6'2 soft-spoken reliever started the season in AAA.

Bill Mathews also was picked up later in the month for the AAA rotation.

However, while all these deals were going on, Eastwood and Concordian had asked me to get to the bottom of the Vasser situation. The media had hounded him for a week after his release, but his story changed so much that they gave up. Surprising that the media would give up. The whole scandal was up in the air, and it seemed like everyone was just waiting around someone to get the real story.

Since Carla had gone back to college, I had all my free time to spend with Vasser. Hensley tagged along sometimes, but he was busy with his new girlfriend and getting ready for the upcoming season. For two solid weeks I checked up on JV’s progress, each time trying to pick up parts of the story. Most of the time he brushed me off, but a couple of times I picked up on little details.

The most obvious was this girl. Although Vasser tried to hide it from the media, the fight was clearly about the girl. Nobody knew who the girl was, and James wouldn’t say who. Apparently, he was ‘protecting’ her, or so he claimed. The second detail was why. Although his most consistent story was that the shooting was random and the guy approached him, I figured out that it was actually the other way around. Not surprisingly, it was Vasser who had approached the shooter and started the fight.

With these two facts in my mind, I began to piece together the real story. And with each new piece of information, I became more disgusted. I constantly reported back to Eastwood, who really became more interested in what happened than concerned of whether or not he should punish Vasser (again). And to tell you the truth, it was a huge curiosity for myself and the team. James “Bad Boy” Vasser had become a mini-team mystery.

Finally, on the last day of January, I got a huge chunk of the puzzle. I was talking with JV as he was throwing some pitches for the end of his rehab assignment. I was standing behind the mound, watching his mechanics with the trainer to see if he had any kinks.

“So, James. How’s the arm feeling?” I asked casually.

“Like a gem, Skip,” he responded. It was the first time he’d said gem in awhile, but it certainly wouldn’t be the last.

“Any pain in the chest?”

“Nah.”

I watched him throw another pitch. “I hate to bring this up again, but everyone’s dying to know. Did you really ‘just get shot’ over the girl?”

Vasser slumped his shoulders and sighed, but didn’t stop throwing pitches. “You’ve been on me forever about this, Skip.”

“I just want the real story.”

“No you don’t.” He smirked. “Well. . . maybe you do.”

“Yes, I do. I don’t care how bad it is. I just want to know what really happened.”

He stopped throwing, turned and looked me in the eye. “Alright. But I warned you.” He walked off the mound, and I followed him. “I was really at The 7 with some chick. She said she’d seen me play. So I figured I could **** her if I took her out. She was old enough, at least. I took her out for awhile. Lemme tell you Skip, she’d the biggest rack I’d ever seen. And the body was so goddamn hot.”

I stared at him. “Yeah.”

He got back on topic after spending a few seconds off in space, probably thinking about the girl. “So anyway she was a good lay, so I kept seeing her. She went off to college though, which sucked. But she was home for the break. Gave me a call, so I came down from Milwaukee. We met up at The 7, and that’s when the **** started happening. This guy said she’d been with him before and then ****ed off somewhere in the club. I forgot about it, but she brought it up again. I asked her if she’d really been with this guy, and yeah, she had. I didn’t care too much, but then I found out that she was playin’ me, man. I wasn’t gonna have any of that **** so I went to the guy and told him to ****in’ **** off and leave the chick to me. I figured he’d made the ****in’ advance.”

I could tell as he remembered what had happened, that what he was saying was true - after all, he was clearly becoming more angry as he spoke.

“The stupid **** tells me she made the move on him - I wasn’t buying that bull**** so I gave him one last chance to **** off. The guy said some ****, so I nailed the bitch in the face. The **** fell, but then the mother****er pulls out a pistol and unloads on me. I dunno how nobody saw what happened, but the next thing I know, I’m on the floor, and the guy is gone. I hurt like **** but I got up and looked for my girl. I found her near the exit by the bouncers.”

“Wait,” I cut in awkwardly. “You got shot in a crowded club and nobody heard the shot or saw the guy who did it?”

“Don’t ask me. The music was pretty loud, but I dunno how the **** got away with it. Anyways, I was talking with my girl - I couldn’t do **** to her cause she was by the bouncers, but she told me she did this regularly. She had like five or six guys. Then all of the sudden -”

“What was the girl’s name?” I interrupted.

Vasser smiled. “Carla, man. She said she knew you too.”

I looked into JV’s eyes, feeling a burning sensation in my stomach. “Carla who?”

“**** man, you know it’s your ****in’ girlfriend. Her last name doesn’t matter!” He responded harshly.

I stood in silence for awhile. Vasser sensed his opportunity to leave and walked off. I must have been there for awhile, because when I finally came back to reality only the trainer was still around.


I wanted to make sure, so I went home and called Carla. At first she denied it. Then when I told her what JV had said, she admitted to cheating.

“Why!? Why goddammit why!!?!” I screamed into the phone. Hensley peered out from his room, distracted by the noise.

“You’re a stiff, Mark. You were fun for awhile, but then you got boring.” She responded bluntly.

“Then why didn’t you just break up with me??” I yelled.

“Figured you would still buy me stuff.”

I slammed the phone on the receiver. I was fuming. Not only did she play me, she was also trying to get to my money.

Hensley watched me throw stuff around the apartment. “What happened, man?”

I told him the whole story while he just listened, becoming more and more shocked.

After I had calmed down (a few days later), I questioned James over how he knew about me.

“I didn’t. She just brought up your name in a list of guys she was playing when I asked her that night.” He told me.

I didn’t hate Vasser for what had happened to me. He seemed like he had no idea, although when he found out it was obviously very amusing for him to discover that he had his manager’s girl.

Hensley and I committed to a drinking binge for the next couple of days. I spent most of my time at the bar slamming Carla, although I was too drunk to remember.

Even worse - I woke up on February 5th with a massive hangover and no memory of the night before. At the very least, I was in my own bed. However, lying next to me was some girl I didn’t know. She was sleeping peacefully, but I panicked briefly. I went to Hensley to find out what I had done.

“You met her at the bar last night, man. Don’t you remember?”

“No!” I responded, putting on my shirt.

“You really were loaded last night,” Hensley chuckled. “Anyways, she wanted to come home with you, so you let her. And let me tell you - took me awhile to fall asleep. . . you two were damn loud!”

“Sorry.” I said, sheepishly.

“Doesn’t bother me any, man. Just glad to know you’re over Carla.”

I thought of Carla, then realized I didn’t know what the name of the girl in my bed was. “Hensley. . . do you know what her name is?” I pointed to my room.

Hensley cracked a wide grin. “You’ll find this hilarious, man,” he said, pausing for a moment. “Her name is Caroline.”

“God DAMMIT!” I bellowed, but couldn’t help smiling at the same time. “What are the odds?”

Hensley was trying so hard to not burst out laughing, but eventually gave up. “I’m sorry man, but I find that so damn funny.”

“Yeah, yeah.” I responded, laughing along with him. “At least she’s still pretty this morning.”

He and I had a good laugh before I went back to my room. She was just waking up. “Morning. . .” she greeted, reaching for her clothes.

“Morning, Caroline.” I responded.

Her smile disappeared and turned into a frown. “It’s Carolyn.”

[TexasLonghorns]

[The Funk]

Originally Posted by Jazzmosis

She laughed. “I guess she told you my name?”

“Yeah - Carol...yn?”

“It’s Caroline. Caroline.”

Originally Posted by Jazzmosis

“Morning, Caroline.” I responded.

Her smile disappeared and turned into a frown. “It’s Carolyn.”

Nice! Great chapter. I want more!!!!

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