Earning a Ring (More Than a Game Series Book 4)

by Kristina Mathews

  She’d actually cried when he pitched his perfect game. Cried and hugged Zach like they’d been there. But she barely said a word to him when they met today. And they didn’t even get an autograph.

  Now, she was all quiet, and he wouldn’t be surprised if she said she wanted to leave soon. He’d seen what he wanted to see. Johnny Scottsdale’s first interview as one of the Goliaths, and then he’d gotten to meet him. Sort of.

  Kip Michaels stepped onstage to introduce the next set of players. He was one of the best. He never had anything bad to say about an opponent, but he was a Goliath to the core. He also managed to throw out a few tips for young players during every game. He’d point out simple things, like keeping balanced in the batter’s box or following through on a pitch. Plus, he’d been there. Way before Zach’s time, but he’d pitched in the majors for ten years. So he knew what he was talking about.

  “Thank you, San Francisco!” Nathan Cooper stepped up to the mic for his turn in the spotlight. “It’s going to be a great season. I guarantee it.”

  Yeah, he was alright. Kind of a showoff, though. Like it was more about him than the team. Cooper played to the crowd, making them laugh and cheer and get pumped up for the season. Even if he was kind of obnoxious, he was a pretty good pitcher. Most of the time.

  Zach glanced over at his mother. She was trying to rub the mustard stain out of her sweater. He wondered if that would be her excuse for leaving early. He wouldn’t mind. Not really. He just wished he could have talked to Johnny Scottsdale more. He had a lot of questions. Mostly about baseball. Like what it was like to pitch a perfect game.

  He had questions about his dad.

  He barely even remembered him. Only a few fuzzy memories—mostly good—of a guy in a suit taking off his tie and getting down on the floor to play with the Thomas the Train set. He remembered watching movies and going to the park, but he didn’t think he’d ever played catch with his dad.

  He’d played catch with a few different major leaguers. As part of the minicamp. He never really felt like he was part of the program though. It was more like he tagged along, just because he could. Because his mom ran the show and his grandparents had started the whole charity thing after his dad died.

  Some of the other kids had it real tough, though. Single parents who worked two jobs just to pay their rent. So they didn’t have time to play catch with their kids. There were foster kids who never lived in one place long enough to be part of a team. Some of the kids had dads in the military, serving overseas in Afghanistan or places like that.

  Zach felt kind of bad, taking up a spot for a kid who needed it more. At least he didn’t have to worry about money. Or his mom didn’t have to worry, anyways.

  “Hey Mom?” He had an idea.

  “Don’t tell me you’re still hungry.” She smiled at him, but she was kind of distracted.

  “No.” Not really. But he would be after dinner. They’d probably have a big salad or vegetable stir-fry—something healthy to make up for all the junk food. “I was just thinking. Maybe I’m getting too old to be in the minicamp.”

  “You’re not too old.” She folded up her napkin and wrapped up the last of her unfinished hot dog. “There will be plenty of other kids your age.”

  “I guess.” He wasn’t as excited about it as he’d been the last few years.

  “You don’t have to do the minicamp.” She tried to sound like it didn’t matter to her, but he knew she’d be disappointed if he wasn’t there. “I hope you’re not quitting because I haven’t asked Johnny Scottsdale to join us.”

  “That’s not it.” He grabbed the last garlic fry. Except maybe that was part of it. “I just don’t know how much more I can learn from the same guys.”

  That kind of made him sound like a jerk. Like he thought he was some great baseball player already. That’s not what he meant. He just didn’t know how to say it without sounding like he was spoiled or something. How many kids got to work with real Major League baseball players every year? Not many. For most of them it was a once-in-a-lifetime kind of thing.

  “If you don’t want to come, that’s okay. You won’t hurt my feelings.” She said that, but she didn’t like when he didn’t want to do stuff with her. It was hard for him to tell her he’d rather be with his friends. She always worked so hard at finding fun things to do together. Maybe it was because he didn’t have his dad around anymore and she felt like she had to make it up to him. Or maybe it was because she didn’t have his dad around and she was lonely.

  “I’ll come,” Zach said. But he didn’t really want to.

  * * * *

  Johnny plopped down in front of his locker to change out of his jersey and into his street clothes. He was wiped out, but not in a good way like after a game. His muscles were sore from tension, not exertion. He was still reeling after his encounter with Alice. For years he’d pretended they were both dead to him. Come to find out, Mel had died. And even though they hadn’t spoken in years, it still came as a big blow. The man had once been Johnny’s best friend. Almost a brother. And now he was gone. Was it an accident? A long and painful battle with disease? Whatever the cause, Alice was left to raise their son alone.

  Alice was a mother. Not a big surprise. She’d always loved kids. She was going to be a teacher. Until she’d married Mel and didn’t have to work. Mel was rich. Came from money and probably couldn’t help but make even more money once he graduated and went to work for his father, helping make other rich people richer.

  It bothered him more than he wanted to admit. Her having a kid. Not that Johnny had ever really wanted to be a father. But maybe a part of him would have wanted to be the one to give her that gift.

  He was wrestling with that thought when his manager, Juan Javier, approached him.

  “Just the man I need to see.” Javier had been a catcher during his playing days. A pretty good one too, until his knees gave out. But he was still in good shape. Still had a commanding presence.

  “Sure, what do you need?” Johnny didn’t know the man well enough to determine whether he should address him by his first name, last name or just call him “Skip.” His reputation around the league was that of a player’s manager. Well respected and well liked, with a thorough knowledge of the game and an uncanny ability to get the most out of his players. Johnny looked forward to working with him.

  “I need a hero.” Javier parked himself next to Johnny. “Got word this morning that Nathan Cooper didn’t pass a drug test. He’s out fifty games, unless he appeals.”

  Did that mean Johnny would be moved to the bullpen? Cooper was a relief pitcher, a left-handed specialist. Johnny was a right-handed starter. At least he had been his entire career.

  “Don’t worry, you’re still a starter.” Javier clapped him on the back. “This is a PR nightmare. At least it didn’t leak out this morning. That would have put a dark cloud on the Fan Fest.”

  “So what can I do?”

  “Your reputation is spotless. It’s one of the reasons the team was so interested in signing you.” They didn’t call him The Monk for nothing. His composure on the mound was only part of the story. “We had a few years where...well, you catch the news. The fans are sick of this stuff. Sick of the cheaters. We need someone like you. Someone the kids can look up to.”

  “I try to be one of the good guys.” Johnny shrugged. It’s all he’d ever wanted to be. He wanted his name to be associated with honor, integrity and respect.

  “Russ Crawford, from the front office, had Cooper lined up for this charity event.” His manager placed a sturdy hand on Johnny’s shoulder. “We don’t want a guy suspended for drugs representing us to the community.”

  “No. We don’t.” Johnny never understood what would drive a guy to take such a risk. Or why there were still guys who felt they could get away with it. He balled his fists, thinking about how much harder the rest of them had to work at proving they were clean.

  “We need someone to take his place. I thought you’d be perfect.�
� He gave Johnny a friendly pat on the back.

  “I was perfect once in my life.” Twenty-seven batters had faced him. Every one of them had walked back to the dugout shaking their heads. None of them had reached first base. No hits, no walks, no errors.

  “You and only about twenty-three other guys.” Javier gave him a smile of admiration. Of respect. Not only for Johnny, but for all the players who’d come before him. “But you’re not just perfect on the field.”

  That was his reputation. No wild parties, drugs or women. When he went out with his teammates, he stuck with one beer. Just to be one of the guys. Then he would return quietly to his room. Alone. He politely refused advances and room keys from his female fans.

  “What kind of charity thing are we looking at?” Let’s get to the point. What really mattered. As long as it wasn’t a speaking engagement. He could pitch in front of a sold-out stadium. Or an empty one where the few fans in attendance tried to make up for the lack of numbers with an abundance of noise. But talking to a room full of people? No thanks. He’d much rather run the bleachers, drag the field, or even cut the grass by hand, one blade at a time.

  “It’s a minicamp for youth players,” Javier explained. “They come to the ballpark after school and we take them through a few drills, demo mechanics and basically share your knowledge of the game.”

  “That sounds like something I could do.” Johnny was just beginning to think about what he might do after his career was over. Coaching was something to consider; it would keep him in the game. But he wasn’t sure if he’d be any good at it. He didn’t know if he could explain things in a way others would understand. He could show them, though. He could demonstrate what worked for him.

  “So you’ll do the pitching clinic.” It wasn’t a question. The new guy on the team had to prove himself, no matter his reputation, and picking up a teammate was a good way to do just that.

  Johnny nodded. Why not? Anything to keep his mind off Alice and Mel. And their kid.

  “Tell me about the kids.” Johnny didn’t have a lot of experience with kids. Like, none. Even when he’d been a kid, he didn’t really know how to relate to them. He was the quiet boy in school and in the dugout. “How old are they?”

  “I think anywhere from about nine to twelve or thirteen.”

  “Old enough to tie their own shoes, then.” In other words, about Zach’s age.

  “Yet still young enough that they don’t think they know everything,” Javier added with a slight smile. “About baseball, at least.”

  “So these kids should be coachable.” When he’d been that age, he’d soaked up every tip and tidbit of information about the game. He’d been eager to learn and apply the knowledge to his rapidly growing skills.

  Could he be the kind of mentor he’d had back then? Could he pass down his knowledge of the game to the next generation? He hoped so.

  “They’re good kids. Some of them may have caught a bad break. Single parent homes, families fallen on hard times. Some of these boys might be homeless or in foster care.” Javier was starting to make Johnny a little nervous. He’d been one of those kids. He’d known hard times. Lived with a single mother who’d worked too much. Without a father or a man to look up to.

  Until his coach had stepped up.

  “I guess you’ve got your man.” Johnny hoped he could be the kind of man these kids needed. “Just give me the time and place.”

  “I knew I could count on you. The camp starts Monday. Here’s your contact at the Harrison Foundation.” The manager handed him a slick business card. Johnny’s heart seized as he read the name.

  Alice Harrison, Director

  “She’s a great gal. Professional. Knowledgeable.” Javier seemed not to notice all the air had been sucked out of the room. “You’ll love her.”

  Oh yeah. Johnny had loved her. He’d once loved her even more than he loved the game.

  Table of Contents

  Cover Copy

  Books by Kristina Mathews

  Earning A Ring

  Copyright

  Dedication

  Acknowledgements

  Author’s Foreword

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Chapter 31

  Chapter 32

  Epilogue

  Meet the Author

  BETTER THAN PERFECT

  Chapter 1