by David Horne
“And so, can I,” Joel added. “I knew the minute you told me about all this that I was in it too. I wasn’t going to let you turn your back on this. And I didn’t think for a minute you’d let this slide by. I know how important it is to you to help people. And you did the right thing.”
“I feel like I should give all this to someone else.”
Joel’s face looked like Martin’s words stung him. “I think that’s a bad idea. There’s only so much you can do without risking lawsuits from Brant. You presented him with all the relevant information. There’s only so much you can do without risking more trouble.”
“But it feels like more people need to know about this.”
“Martin,” Joel started. His hand found Martin’s fingers on the tabletop by the coffee cup. “Don’t do anything that will jeopardize your career. I know you can keep your license and still practice medicine after all this, even if you choose to expose Durant and Key. But is it that important to you? Or are you just looking to get back at them? They’ll face whatever is coming to them. You need to be prepared for anything.”
“That sounds ominous.”
“Well, you know Brant probably called both men the minute we stepped out of the office. You can’t for a minute sit there and think Brant didn’t know Key and Durant were doing something Brant didn’t know about. Not with his team. Even a thousand miles away, Brant knows what’s going on in Tampa.”
He looked at the time on the cell phone on the table. Joel scanned something on the smartphone. He texted something and looked at the waitress for the bill. “We need to get going. I have a meeting in twelve hours I can’t miss. And while you feel like you’re not a member of the team, you’re still responsible for your post, and they have a game tomorrow. You need to be there for the team. Fuck all about Durant and Key.”
During the rest of the journey speeding back to Tampa, Joel drove, and Martin watched out the window at the passing world.
“If I take a job, it might not be in Tampa.” The words went out the window to the world. Martin spoke indirectly and knew Joel heard it. He waited for Joel to respond but nothing came back to him. He glanced at Joel, concentration on his face, negotiating the highway travel by night.
“Let’s see what happens,” Joel finally said. In the dashboard light, his face was severe and calculating. Martin felt Joel didn’t experience anxiety and fear like Martin. There was something about the man that made him a pillar in the storm, unbreakable, unbendable, and utterly dependable. Martin felt, even if his time with Joel was finite, at least, for the time being, he was thankful to be moored to him in the uncertain future.
Chapter Twenty-Four
Expecting the worst after returning to the training camp, Martin woke from a short and refreshing nap. He showered at Joel’s apartment after they returned from the road trip. They slept together in each other’s arms and left at different times. Joel had his meeting. Martin had the office and no patients waiting for him. He felt at least wherever he ended up; it would have more for him to do. At least for the time being, he could search for jobs on company time.
“Are you busy?” Floyd asked from the doorway to the office. Martin’s open door allowed him to see movement inside the outer examination room. He wanted to appear civil and not closed-off in these uncertain times.
“No,” Martin responded. Surprised to see Floyd alone and away from the team he added, “What can I do for you, coach?”
Floyd went through the doorway and sat in the only available chair on the other side of Martin’s desk. It groaned under his weight. When he removed the baseball cap and dropped it on his lap, Floyd rubbed the bald dome of his skull.
“You’re leaving, I hear.”
“I am after training is over.” It wasn’t something Martin had decided directly. But everyone around him had already made up his mind without his inclusion. Now he felt obliged to follow through with the notion.
“Is there something going on that I should know about?” he asked directly.
Before Martin, sat a man who lived in a world of black and white, Floyd didn’t see gray. Either a player went through the game, playing hard, achieving runs and hit statistics that brought the player and the team up in positive numbers. Or he saw negative numbers, no runs, all missed swings, and a bad game.
“Something is going on with the team.” Martin glanced to the door behind Floyd. Still open, while he saw movement in the examination room, it was possible for someone to come in and not be noticed immediately.
He stood up, rounded the desk and advanced to the door. A quick look into the vacant examination room told him to relax. He closed the door.
“I found something in Reyes' blood sample that is subject to some enhancement drugs.”
“We didn’t get any alerts from the hospital.”
“They didn’t find the chemicals. I had the blood samples independently analyzed.”
“Is that why you’re leaving?” A straight question deserved a straight answer.
“I’m not exactly welcomed around here. Your assistant coach has made it clear that he doesn’t like me. I went above and beyond when I had the blood checked outside the hospital. I think Reyes got a bad call and was let go for something that was beyond his control.”
Floyd absorbed the information. “There was a time when this game mattered to people. Then someone decided they could make better athletes by giving them drugs.” He shook his head. “I don’t understand all that. I’m from a different time, I guess.”
“I took everything I know to Brant. I don’t know what’s going to happen next.”
“But you’re all done with us?” The words came out as if he felt some little emotion about Martin’s exit.
“Well, we still have a few weeks. I don’t know if Brant will terminate me before the end of training. I doubt it.” He leaned against the desk to Floyd’s left, armed folded in confidence. “I’m here for you and the team. I’m not concerned about what Riley, Irving, or Vincent have to say about me.”
“My niece thinks the world of you,” he said.
“Your niece?” Martin asked.
“Leslie is my niece. She has a love of the game that I wish some of the team had.”
“Well, I think I still don’t understand the game.”
“Your passion isn’t in baseball, but I know you have a heart for the boys.” He shook his head. “I hate to think you’re leaving because of some misunderstanding between Durant or Key. Neither of them has anything to do with how I run my team.”
It was that statement that gave Martin some pause. He knew full well that Key and Durant were orchestrating the drug enhancements and players were part of the trials. It didn’t come without the coach’s knowledge. Floyd wasn’t aware, but someone knew they gave out samples to the team. Martin had a hard time thinking it went unnoticed altogether.
“These guys need someone to lead them.” Martin felt while he didn’t know Floyd beyond an acquaintance, he knew the man well enough to see him as a positive figure in the industry. “They need to know they have the strength and attitude about the game and don’t need drugs to make them better ballplayers.”
“Nowadays it feels like I’m not a team player unless I look the other way when it comes to enhancements.” He shook his head again. Coming to terms with limitations about the game he’d spent his whole life involved in was a lot for the man to comprehend. “I remember when players just used sandpaper or spitballs. The worst that got players in trouble was cocaine use. Now it’s something else, and they still try to get away with it. The game’s not the same anymore.”
He stood up. Martin stopped leaning against the desk to face the man directly. Floyd put on a hand after the baseball cap went back to its proper place on his head. Martin filled his hand into the beefy grip.
“I’m sorry to see you go, Doc.” The handshake was firm and quick, and Martin watched Floyd shuffle out the door into a world of high-tech designer drugs that went beyond any of his baseball analy
tical ideas. The game changed when people put more money in pharmaceuticals, developing drugs instead of players.
Martin went back to his desk. He sat there only a few minutes. He shut down the computer and left the office. He wandered through the locker room. There were very few people under the stadium.
The Coyotes were getting ready to play ball again. The stadium had diehard fans watching the developing players. The ever-present public was waiting to see the birth of the next great ballplayer, they expected.
Martin went out to the stadium. The Florida sunshine pressed on his face and shoulders. He wore nothing with the team insignia and just wandered up the steep steps to the top of the stadium.
On the top level, he saw the whole field. There were a few ballplayers already out there, warming up, throwing the baseballs at each other. Martin knew them by name. The rest of the spectators knew their names, their jersey numbers, and probably their averages when asked directly. It was an interesting sport that took a lot of athletic skills, even without the drug enhancements. While some of the players remained purists, Martin wondered if like marijuana, would there be a shift in the industry standards that allowed a level of enhancement based on overall drug designs. It wasn’t something he wanted a part of because it was a particular side of the physician license he felt some people took for granted when they took an oath. Money changed everything. And while Martin felt if he pursued money when he had the meeting with Brant, the man might have made an offer that even Martin couldn’t refuse.
Shaking off the idea that he had a price tag, Martin found an empty seat in the stadium and waited for the game to start. He wanted to see it from the outside instead of knowing how dirty it got on the inside.
Chapter Twenty-Five
There was no ‘going away’ party for Martin when he carried the bags to Joel’s car. With the end of the training season, Martin had to vacate the hotel suite. There was already a new doctor getting to know the players. None of the team said farewell to Martin because they were busy with their next big game that mattered more than the loss of someone who didn’t see the ballplayers unless they got hurt. For some, Martin’s presence was a reminder to be careful, not to push too hard. After Reyes’ departure, they clammed up entirely. There were no requests for drug tests from the coaching staff.
After Simpson’s departure, some players felt Martin was a curse instead of a convenience. In the sports world, superstition was as prevalent as people, and no one denied the start of something negative when they could avoid seeing the doctor altogether on the field.
The team loaded onto the bus the same day Martin checked out of the hotel. The Cloverdale Coyotes went their way; Martin found himself unemployed and sulking in an apartment that wasn’t his home. Joel had work still. He had a trip to Lakeland scheduled and was spending the night, so Martin had two days by himself.
When the cell phone rang, he had hoped it was a job interview from one of the many places he’d applied.
“Hey there stranger,” Carolyn said. “I’ve been meaning to call sooner.” It’d been two months since the last time he’d talked to her. “I wanted to know where to send this check.”
“What check?” he asked.
“Well, the lab sends out ‘thank you’ checks for finder fees. We got that contract with the Coyotes for blood testing. That’s going to open the door for the lab to get other contracts.”
This was shocking news to Martin. “I didn’t know anything about it.”
“It came down last week. I guess the work we did was positive.” It was a joke that drug-testing people understood and while Martin got the reference immediately, he was still unsure why the laboratory that exposed the drug-enhancement benefited from the revelation. “There’s a contract in place that allows us full access to the blood work from the team. I’m not sure what that all entails yet. But we’re excited to get new business. And from what I’ve heard it’s a fat contract. And because it came down from you, when I told the administration, they cut you a hefty check.”
“What exactly are they having you do now?”
“The same, I guess. There’s a lot more work involved with blood tests than people assume. And it isn’t just the team they’re talking about; I’m hearing we might have bigger contracts. The marketing people are having a field day with this because they want to start advertising right away.” Carolyn sounded happier than Martin expected.
“Doesn’t it bother you if you find more positive results?”
“Not at all, Marty,” she replied. “Our job is to analyze and provide results. That’s all. I’m not interested in the politics of the work. I’m just happy to have a job.”
“That makes one of us,” Martin responded.
“What happened?”
“Well, you can probably imagine that they weren’t happy about me exposing their drug trials on athletes. I lost my job the minute I questioned the results.”
“Oh,” she said, “I’m sorry.” But the apology sounded hollow. She had new contracts, a great base for her work. “Maybe you can come work for us.”
“I don’t think that’s something I would be interested in doing, sorry.”
“Well, you can definitely use that check then. I’ll make sure they get it in the mail. Just tell me where to send it.”
Martin thought for a long moment. While he needed the money, he felt accepting it was wrong morally. He felt the money tainted his view of where it came from. “You know any animal rescue places that deal with rescuing research animals?”
“I think I know of a few, why?”
“I want you to donate the money to animal rescue.”
“That’s a bit extreme, even from you, Marty.”
“I feel like there is a cost of doing business and a price you have to pay to get things done right. These people aren’t going to stop with the drug enhancements. These kids are going to keep taking drugs people say will make them better athletes. I don’t want any part of it.”
Carolyn was quiet. She waited to speak, and Martin knew she was part of that chain of custody that needed to be held accountable for what the pharmaceutical company did to the athletes. If they perfected an untraceable drug for ballplayers to use, what was to stop them from marketing it everywhere? Eventually, it would be the new ‘normal’ the standard would change to include athletes who performed better because they took drugs. What was that saying to society?
“I feel like the messenger who just got shot,” she said.
“I’m sorry, Carolyn. I didn’t mean you directly. I’m still pretty sore about all this, and it doesn’t seem like I’ve accomplished anything except showing a weakness in their system.”
“Well, I get you want people to choose the right path. But we can only do so much. People have to walk their own paths.”
“If you can have the lab make out the check to the animal rescue, that would be great. I’ll send a follow-up email about it, so they know it’s coming from me.”
“Okay, Marty. And for what it’s worth, I’m sorry this happened.”
“Me too,” he added.
After the phone call, Martin felt as if he’d been undermined again. His moral compass pointed toward truth, and the rest of the people around him wanted to take the money and ignore the problem. Martin didn’t know how to shut off the filter that he used to view the world. In a way, he felt like Floyd, lost in the mainstream that somehow wasn’t the same mainstream he’d learned about as a child and thought was right. Now people with money were saying he’d got it wrong all along.
Chapter Twenty-Six
When Joel got home from his trip, he had an announcement. Martin had time to clean up the apartment. Not that Joel was a slob on any level, but his time away from the condo was more than any time he spent at home. So, Martin deep-cleaned the place and felt as if he contributed more to the inside of the dwelling than anything he’d accomplished in his short tenure as a sports doctor.
He had dinner waiting for Joel. A hearty home-cooked meal
that didn’t go unappreciated, Joel was surprised and thankful to sit down at the dining room table that was nothing more than the extension of his office desk.
“So, what’s so exciting you need to tell me?” Martin asked after they settled down to a meal of lasagna, steamed vegetables, and wine.
“They offered me a promotion today.”
“Really?” Martin asked. “That’s surprising, considering you were sitting beside me when I exposed Brant to everything he was doing wrong.”
After a sip of wine, Joel wiped his mouth and said, “That’s what I thought. And I think that had a lot to do with it. I think you have them running scared.”
Martin had told Joel about Carolyn and the contracts with the lab. While it surprised Martin, Joel was unfazed.
“You shook the tree, and they all fell out of it. Now they’re scrambling to pick up the pieces before they’re exposed again. Why not tie up the laboratory that exposed them? Have the lab do the testing and send the results back to management, and in turn to the pharmaceutical company? The lab works like an independent consulting firm. They’ll know when they got it right when the lab can’t find any trace of their compounds. Makes good business sense to me,” he added.
“What about the athletes?” Martin asked.
“You know, they choose to do what they do to their bodies. Regardless of what you might think, sometimes people would rather do something wrong if they think it benefits them. You can’t change that. And you’re better for not feeding into that machine.”
Martin had nothing to say, and after Joel gave him the limited lecture, he’d lost his appetite. He finished the glass of wine and poured another. “So, tell me about your promotion.”
“It’s great. They want me to move up to the main office. That’d be working out of Brant’s building and focusing on the company brand instead of just the baseball team. It comes with another $30,000 a year. And I’d have to move within the month.”