A Brand New Ballgame

by Declan Rhodes

  24

  Aaron

  I arrived at the airport in Charlotte just before lunch. Eric and Javier both knew that I was in town, but I didn’t tell Chase. I wanted to surprise him with my visit.

  At the rental car counter, the man who waited on me looked at my name on my driver’s license and said, “Hey, aren’t you the guy who used to coach for the Yellowjackets?”

  I said, “Yes, and I’m coaching in San Antonio now. I flew back for the day to meet a couple of friends.”

  “Well, for what it’s worth, I think you got a raw deal here. You’re going to be a manager someday, and I bet you know more about baseball than most of the flunkies on our coaching staff. They should bring you back.”

  I laughed softly. “Thank you for the vote of confidence, and I hope they are better than flunkies.”

  He grinned and leaned over the desk whispering. “Don’t tell anyone, but I bumped you up to the VIP level, Coach. You have a larger car now, and it’s just around the corner. The keys are in it waiting for you.”

  He handed me the rental car contract as I said, “Thank you.”

  It was a sporty red car, and I felt a little more conspicuous than I thought would be ideal. I arranged to meet Javier at a small diner in the outskirts of Charlotte. My shiny red car with a Florida license plate stood out from the rest of the pickup trucks and aging domestic cars in the parking lot.

  Javier sat alone at a two-person table in a corner. He was finishing up the last french fries on his plate. Javier dressed down in a red plaid shirt and blue jeans. He beamed when he saw me enter the restaurant.

  I quickly made my way to the table and sat. I signaled to the server, and she brought a cup and the pot of coffee with her.

  “Hun, you look like you need a cup of coffee. We’ve got a pecan pie fresh out of the oven if you want that with your lunch.”

  I smiled, “The coffee is perfect. I saw the barbecued pulled pork sandwich on your specials board. How about that for lunch?”

  “Chips or fries, hun?”

  “Are the chips homemade?”

  She shook her head. “Uh uh, but we slice our own potatoes for the fries.”

  “I’ll take the fries then.”

  “Up in a minute, hun.”

  I turned to Javier as she walked back toward the kitchen. Touching his arm, I said, “Good to see you! I miss all of you. It’s lonely out there in Texas.”

  Javier beamed again. “I’m happy to see you, Coach.”

  I lowered my voice and asked, “What’s this about a recording?”

  He slipped a cassette tape under the table to my hand. Javier whispered, “This here.”

  “A cassette?”

  “Safer than the computer,” said Javier as he nodded. “Don’t ask me how I got the tape.”

  A few short minutes later, the server returned with a bun piled high with barbecued pulled pork. It was sliding off the edges of the bun. I needed a fork to eat it. There was no way to pick it up without dumping the saucy mess into my lap.”

  Eric let me into Chase’s apartment. The injured right-fielder was propped up on the couch watching TV. He heard the voices first and started to ask, “Eric, who…,” and then he shouted, “Aaron!”

  I hugged Eric tight, and then I stepped up to the couch leaning down and kissing Chase on the lips. He reached out with his good left arm and tugged me down to sit beside him. I slipped my tongue between his lips and moaned.

  Eric laughed and said, “It looks like you are in good hands.”

  I pulled back from the kiss and stared into Chase’s sparkling eyes for a moment before turning my head toward Eric. “It’s so great to see both of you. It looks like you’re taking good care of my man.”

  “I do my best,” said Eric. “He can be a little demanding, but I’m sure he’d do the same for me.”

  Chase said, “He’s been waiting on me hand and foot. I owe him big time once I’ve recovered. I told him I could hire a home nurse. He insisted on staying here. He doesn’t ask any questions, and he’s never cranky.”

  “We’re buddies,” said Eric. “I wouldn’t leave him to a pack of strangers. For now, though, I think I’ll get some fresh air. I’m sure the two of you need a little bit of time alone.”

  I said, “I don’t mean to chase you out.”

  “I’ll be back in a couple of hours. When do you have to go back to San Antonio?”

  “The plane leaves at 7:00 p.m.”

  “You’re not even staying overnight?” asked Chase.

  I reached out and ruffled his hair. “I’m sorry, but I can’t. At first, I thought I would, but it will be safer to go home tonight. I don’t think management would approve of this visit if they knew.” Turning back to Eric, I said, “Have fun while you’re out, and we’ll have a quick early dinner together before I have to go.”

  As Eric disappeared and closed the door behind him, I sat next to Chase on the couch and smiled. I said, “Eric has kept me up to date on the doctor reports. When do you start physical therapy?”

  “I’ve already started, but can we talk about that later? Maybe we can discuss it over dinner when Eric is here. I would rather concentrate on other stuff right now.”

  “Like what?”

  “Like another kiss.”

  I grinned and leaned over to share another kiss. Chase reached for the buttons on my shirt while my tongue slipped between his lips. I didn’t expect anything sexual. After all, he was hurt.

  Pulling back from the kiss, I asked, “Are you sure this is okay?”

  “Just watch out for my shoulder. Otherwise, anything goes. I don’t want to waste this…” He gripped my wrist with his right hand and pressed my hand down between his legs. Chase was hard. I wanted him so badly. We needed to figure out what we could do to ease the intensity.

  I helped him finish the buttons on my shirt and then shrugged it off onto the floor. He was wearing an old T-Shirt with the left sleeve removed to accommodate the splint holding his shoulder still. Instead of bothering with removing his shirt, I reached for the cut-off sweatpants he wore. It only took seconds to tug them down to his knees and stare at the outline in his cobalt blue boxer briefs.

  He whispered, “Don’t stop there.”

  I lowered myself onto my side on the couch right up next to Chase. I only had perhaps an inch of clearance behind me to keep from rolling off onto the floor. Chase chuckled softly, and then he sucked in a ragged breath as I tugged the boxer briefs down freeing his beautiful cock.

  I kissed him again and whispered, “I think nothing beats a perfect handjob. Particularly with a few trips to the edge and back.”

  Chase mumbled, “Fuck,” and he reached up with his good arm pulling my head down again. We kissed hard while I wrapped my fingers around his cock. It pulsed in my hand, and I slowly began to stroke it. I exhaled deeply into his mouth. I’d missed Chase so badly. I wanted to give him nothing but pleasure. I wanted to share it with him and take us both to the edge.

  Releasing his cock for a moment, I shucked off my jeans and underwear. Soon I was lying naked next to Chase with our cocks cradled together in my grip. He mumbled, “That’s so damned sexy.”

  Chase slipped his right hand down and began to stroke my cock while I stroked him. My naked body rubbed against his side, and my balls rested against his thigh. Our tongues found each other and twined together. I was in heaven.

  While I trailed my kisses down the side of his neck and tongued his collarbone, Chase rolled his head back and let out a low hissing sound before he moaned loudly. He whispered, “I’m close.”

  Kissing his hard pec, I whispered back, “Not yet,” and stopped stroking.

  “Fuck, don’t stop,” moaned Chase. I started to stroke again, and he arched his hips up into my hand. He stroked me even faster.

  “Not too fast. I want to ride the edge with you.”

  I heard a little yelp, and Chase mumbled, “So close.” I stopped again. This time he pumped his hips upward trying desperately to st
art my stroking again.

  I whispered, “I love you.”

  He growled, “Fuck, I almost came when you said that.”

  I started to stroke again and asked, “Does that mean you love me, too?”

  “Fuck yeah, I missed you so…oh man…” He was close again, and I was, too. I wanted to edge him more, but I didn’t know if I could. We were both ready to explode.

  Chase stroked faster, He whispered, “Cum…,” and it was the moment of no return. I stroked him in unison, and it was my turn to yelp. I exploded in his hand, and my entire body shuddered.

  His mouth opened in a wordless howl, and the first ropes of cum shot in an arc over Chase’s abs. “Oh…oh…” His head raised off the pillow, and his eyes shut tight as he pumped more cum over my fingers. Then he suddenly relaxed, and his eyes opened wide.

  I whispered, “I love you so much,” and I smothered his breath in another passionate kiss.

  25

  Chase

  A week later, I had my arm in a sling to keep the shoulder immobilized, but I was getting around well. The pain was mostly gone unless I tried to move the joint too much. Then it was sore. That happened in nearly every physical therapy session, but my PT guy didn’t seem concerned about causing me pain.

  The local radio station that covered all of the Charlotte Yellowjackets games invited me to join their sportscasters in their coverage. Medford Post talked to the producers at the station and suggested me as a guest. To them, it wasn’t an unusual situation. They often brought in guest announcers who had some past baseball experience or other connections to the team. Occasionally, they even hosted musicians who were in town for a concert.

  The producers invited me to the radio station early in the morning to get used to talking on the air. I was a special guest on the morning show. They joked with me about being an out gay player and needled me with wickedly humorous comments. Ryan Bannon, one of the morning hosts, said, “C’mon Chase, you’re a good-looking guy. There has to be someone special out there.”

  I joined in on the joking and said, “I was looking at you, Ryan.”

  He laughed out loud on the air, and then the station played a song. While the music played, Ryan said, “You’ve got a great voice for radio, and I love your sense of humor. I can’t wait to listen to you tonight during the game.”

  I said, “I’ve wanted to be a sports announcer since I was a little kid. This is like a dream come true.”

  “You sound remarkably relaxed after such an awful injury. I read that it could even end your career.”

  “But I might have a new career announcing.”

  “Ahh,” said Ryan, and then the song came to an end, and he was back on the air. He said, “Chase told me he’s always wanted to be an announcer. I’ve got a follow-up question. Tell us, Chase, did you provide commentary while your mom was cooking dinner?”

  “I didn’t do that, but I got in trouble for being a commentator in school.”

  “School?” asked Ryan. “While your teams were playing other schools?”

  I said, “No, while my teachers were lecturing in high school. I provided immediate assessment of the quality of the lesson.”

  Ryan and his co-host both laughed out loud, and he said, “You were such a troublemaker. The baseball guys are in for a rough ride tonight.”

  By the time the evening game rolled around, I was very comfortable behind the microphone. Half an hour before we were set to go on air, Jerry Green, the primary announcer for Yellowjackets games, asked, “Are you comfortable answering on the spur of the moment if I ask you a question during the game?”

  I said, “I think so. I can usually think well on my feet.”

  Jerry commented, “Mo Sadler throws a fireball out there. Have you ever batted against him, Chase?”

  I paused briefly. I saw Jerry signaling me to say something, so I said, “I haven’t ever batted against Mo, and I’m happy that I’ve missed that opportunity. I’ve watched close up in the bullpen while he warms up, and a Sadler fastball would be frightening.”

  Jerry nodded. He said, “You did well. Can you keep that up for nine innings? Or should we let you go halfway through the game? We often do that with many guests.”

  “I would love to stay the entire game.” I leaned toward Jerry and said, “Do you know what’s been my biggest dream since childhood?”

  “To appear in the All-Star game?” asked Jerry.

  “I’ve always thought a World Series ring was bigger than the All-Star game, but in the radio world, I’ve wanted to do play-by-play. I know I’m completely untested, but would there be any chance I could take maybe a couple of outs or even half an inning?”

  Jerry smiled. “We can do some quick practice here, and if it goes well, maybe we can squeeze in an opportunity for you before the game is over. Does that sound fair?”

  I beamed. “That’s more than fair.”

  Jerry pulled up film of the Yellowjackets game two days earlier. He had me call the game when Mo was brought in during the middle of the eighth inning with runners on second and third. Mo entered the game to try and put out the fire. I did my best to sound engaged in the game and keep talking about the score, relief pitching, and the Yellowjackets in general.

  After Mo struck out a batter for the third out in the inning, Jerry called out, “Cut!” He said, “Wow, Chase, you’re good. We might need to start watching out for our jobs. I think we can slip you in for the play-by-play maybe in the sixth or seventh inning.”

  Once the game started, and we were live on the radio, I took to the announcing like I was born to do it. The producer nudged Jerry midway through the 3rd inning and said, “We’re getting great calls about Chase. Our listeners love him.”

  Jerry began asking me questions about growing up playing baseball during breaks in the action. I told him little stories about my experiences from T-Ball through high school. I said, “I haven’t thought about those times since before I got signed to the Ramblers. Everything has moved so fast in the last couple of years.

  In the sixth inning, Jerry asked me to try play-by-play with both Javier and Eric coming up to bat. I whispered to him, “They are both close friends.”

  Jerry shrugged, and off the mic, he said, “That happens for a lot of announcers. You have to treat the friends like any other player. The same goes for the guys who aren’t quite so nice. They are all equal out there on the field for us. Somebody out there loves even the biggest grinches on the team.”

  I laughed and whispered, “Gotcha,” and started my call. The inning started with Javier on deck and Eric due to bat right after him. The first batter went down on three strikes, and I cringed to myself hoping it wouldn’t be the same for my friends.

  I mentioned a tidbit of information about Javier’s play in the Dominican leagues, and Jerry gave me the thumbs up. I grinned ear to ear and almost forgot to keep talking when Javier lined a ball into the outfield reaching first base safely with a single.

  As Eric strode to the plate, I said, “It’s a good game today for Hinsdale. He’s already reached base safely twice today. Will he make it three?”

  Eric let the first ball go by for a strike. I added, “He got a good look at that one. Now it’s time to watch for his pitch.”

  After Eric swung and missed the next pitch leaving himself in the hole with no balls and two strikes, I crossed my fingers to give him a little bit of superstitious assistance. Jerry noticed and held a hand up to his mouth to keep from laughing.

  The third pitch was a ball, and for the fourth, I called, “Here’s the pitch. He swings, and that’s a long ball! It’s going…going…gone! It’s a big home run for Eric Hinsdale!”

  I thrust my fist in the air as Eric began to round the bases. Jerry wound his hand around in a circle to keep me talking. I wanted to yell. I was having the time of my life.

  26

  Aaron

  Harv picked me up at the airport late in the evening when I returned to San Antonio. I asked him if he knew where I co
uld find a cassette player. The last one I owned was when I was twelve. It was already ten years old and got passed down through the family to me. It was a huge boombox, and I loved the machine. It was my constant companion at home until my brother accidentally knocked it out a window sending it smashing to bits on the ground below. Everyone in the family except me though it was out of date and didn’t need replacement.

  Harv said, “I think I’ve got one stuck deep in a closet at home. Have you tried an electronics store?”

  “Do they still have them? I didn’t know. I don’t even use compact discs anymore.”

  The next morning I saved Harv from dragging everything out of the depths of a closet when I called a local electronics store. The guy on the phone said, “I have a used one I could sell you.” Then he paused. “Hell, I’ll even give it to you. It’s been in the store forever. You mean regular cassettes, right? Not the little dictation machine type.”

  “Regular cassettes.”

  “The machine is yours. I’ll be happy to say goodbye to it.”

  I gave the man a firm handshake and thanked him profusely when I picked it up. I tried to keep my hand from trembling as I carried it to the car. I didn’t know what was on the cassette from Javier, but I knew that it must be important. I popped it into the player just before lunch hour.

  The machine worked perfectly, and five seconds after the tape started, I heard voices. It was a conversation between Meyer Huggins, Eckert, and a voice I didn’t recognize right away. The field manager wasn’t on the tape, and it confirmed my suspicions that Huggins often kept him out of the loop.

  I listened to the tape ten times in a row. I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. By the end of the conversation, I was pretty sure the third voice was someone from the coaching staff of another team. It might have been a coach from the team of the catcher who injured Chase in the All-Star game.