Trouble With the Curve (Learning Curve #2)

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Trouble With the Curve (Learning Curve #2) Page 15

by Felicia Lynn


  Ty sounded so depressed tonight. Maybe he’s just tired. I know between practice with the team, pitching lessons, travel, and games with the summer league, he’s wrecked. But I worry there’s more to it. I hope this news will be just what he needs to put that sexy smile back on his face.

  I’m not really sure what to expect from him. I’m sure he’ll be shocked. Maybe scared? Probably concerned we aren’t settled yet? Maybe more anxious we aren’t married yet? Most likely concerned for my health and probably lil’ responsibility’s health too. But no matter what, I know without a shadow of a doubt that he’ll be an amazing father.

  An email alert from Ty’s agent, Scott, pops up on my notifications screen, and I toss my phone onto the couch, running up the stairs two at a time. Tyler’s interview with a major newspaper in Atlanta released today. I can’t believe I completely forgot. Well . . . given the circumstances, I actually can.

  Tyler Stone: Uncensored

  Tyler Stone dreamed of playing professional baseball since he was young, like most young boys who play in recreational parks across the country. The difference is, over the years while his peers and teammates changed their priorities, Tyler remained focused on the goal. A goal that was achieved and paid off in a big way in the draft two weeks ago when the Atlanta Braves selected him in the first round.

  As a standout talent in high school, which brought him to the University of South Carolina, Stone quickly became a hometown celebrity and household name amongst Colombia, South Carolina’s residents.

  Now a part of the Atlanta Braves organization, Stone is working hard to prove his worth and earn a permanent spot on the roster. I’ve been lucky enough to sit down and talk with Tyler Stone about his love for the game, his time at USC, his experiences with professional baseball thus far, what he hopes to accomplish in the future and even a few other interesting topics that have been in the news recently. Make sure to follow Tyler on social media.

  When did you start playing baseball? What got you into the sport?

  TS: I started playing baseball when I was 12 years old and never stopped. I was signed up for the recreation league in my hometown yet had never stepped foot on a field for a real game before that. I’d tossed the ball with neighborhood kids, but I didn’t have a glove or ball of my own until I played with that team in the spring.

  What was your favorite team growing up? When did your aspirations to become a professional baseball player start?

  TS: The Boston Red Sox were my favorite team, which led me to root for the Braves as well since they originated from the Red Sox organization. I’m proud to be a part of the Braves clubhouse. Professional baseball has always been more than just an ultimate dream. It’s a passion I was willing to make sacrifices for and still do.

  What went into your decision to attend the University of South Carolina? How has your experience with the coaching staff there and prior to college helped you become a better baseball player?

  TS: I’ve been blessed with incredible coaches over the years that have put my best interests first. My first real coach changed my life. He and his family are still a big part of my life, and they’ll always be welcomed in my home and treated like the family they’ve become to me. Attending USC was an easy choice even amongst all the other options. I was proud to commit to the school. It was close to the important people in my life, a great school where I knew I’d get a quality education, and they gave me the best offer financially. All of that played a role in my decision.

  You were drafted by the Braves in the 1st round. Was that surprising or expected? Tell us how it felt to hear the announcement from the commissioner?

  TS: It was one of the best days of my life, and a day I’ll never forget. I was surprised to hear my name called so early. No matter what you’re prepped for, you never know what to expect on draft day. I was definitely excited for the future with an incredible organization, and I was proud to have the people I love next to me when we heard the news. My coaches, teammates, my advisor and now agent, but most importantly, my fiancée were all there to celebrate with me. This was as much their achievement as mine in a lot of ways.

  What’s the biggest adjustment you’re facing in the transition to a professional athlete?

  TS: In this professional level, making decisions to preserve a long-term career is a priority. I’ve never received a paycheck for showing up to a ballpark. I’ve done it for free for a long time. So I’m adjusting to that part. The schedule also might take a little time to adjust to, but I’m acclimating.

  Have you set individual goals you’d like to accomplish this season?

  TS: Of course. I never stop setting goals or striving to achieve them. My primary goal is to build more experience and be a player my team can rely on to get the job done successfully.

  Do you feel that you’ve been sufficiently prepared for what professional baseball requires of its rookies?

  TS: I have been training and staying in shape for this my whole life. I’m ready, and I’ll keep training to stay ready.

  There was a video of you and your fiancée that recently went viral, which gained you a lot of praise and support. Do you have any comment regarding the video or your relationship?

  TS: I’m honest. Everything I said that day I meant as much then as I do now. I’m not sure there’s much else to be said about that video. But if you want to know about my love for Charlotte, you need to ask a different question. Not to be rude, but the video and my future bride don’t belong in the same question or statement.

  Your fiancée is the only daughter of the Governor of South Carolina and a US presidential hopeful and the two of you met on campus at USC. What’s it like to be in a relationship with the woman who may be our next first daughter? Does that impact your career in any way?

  TS: Playing ball was the only thing I ever knew I wanted, and it was easy to convince myself it was all that mattered. I invested years in that lie, and it worked until the day Charlotte Maryland Baker crossed my path. I didn’t realize at the time how much my life would change, but I knew immediately she was different. At first, I tried to ignore our connection because I didn’t want a distraction to interfere with my game or the possibility of a career, but it was an impossible quest. Charlotte changed everything for me. I’m a better person and player because of her. It’s never mattered who her parents are. If she were the ninth daughter of the grounds keeper, it wouldn’t have changed anything. I love her. She loves me. Thankfully, she wants to marry me and continue to build a life together. Whatever comes of that, we’re in it together.

  Over the years, you’ve been labeled in the press as somewhat of a bad boy. Even being flagged as the MLB’s most eligible bachelor before you were even drafted. You’ve made public statements saying baseball owns your heart and you don’t have time in your life for much else. Has that changed?

  TS: In my life, I’ve never had to make adjustments or sacrifices for another person. It’s public knowledge that I didn’t have a traditional childhood. From my earliest memories, I’ve had to fight the statistics and prove the world wrong. I loved this sport more than anything or anyone in my life. I lived for baseball. People told me my dreams were farfetched, but that only fueled my mission to make liars out of them. From the moment I knew I had a talent others wanted, I’ve worked to achieve the impossible. Passionate, selfish, asshole, and cocky are all words used to described me in articles I’ve read, and they’re accurate for the most part. Charlotte is the exception. I said she changed everything for me, and I meant that. She owns me, and I’m not ashamed to admit it. Like I remind her often, I’m her asshole, but I try to be a better person because of her every day. Maybe someday those won’t be the adjectives chosen when I’m the topic. We’ll have to see.

  IT’S BEEN A COUPLE of days since that interview published, and it seems to have lifted Charlie’s spirits. She’s a little more chipper when we talk or text, and I don’t think she’s hiding out watching chick-flick reruns and ordering an excessive amount of pizza any
more. That makes me feel a little better. I only wish reading the article or hell, even giving the interview, could’ve bettered my outlook too.

  Tomorrow . . . I’m supposed to be able to head back home then, but I still don’t know when we’re going to be dismissed. Thank fuck, we’re back in Atlanta, and it’s only a three-hour drive, but tonight, I’ll be sleeping in another god-awful hotel bed, praying I don’t pick up bed bugs. This part sucks. I love my bed at home, and the reason for that is the little clothes thief in it.

  Last night, she sent me a picture of her snuggled in bed wearing my hoodie. Who the hell gets jealous of a damn sweatshirt? Shit. It’s old and has been my favorite for several years, but I left it behind for her on purpose. When she steals my stuff to lounge in, it’s always her first choice. Favorite or not, I wanted to burn that hoodie last night.

  My entire body aches from the workouts, practices, and games, but I’m not convinced it’s not a reaction from missing Charlie so much. I’ve been pushing myself harder and harder every day. It’s the only way to distract myself. Shocking. A few months ago, I wanted to avoid a distraction at any cost. Now, my distraction is driving me in ways I’d never imagined, but I can’t keep this up. I’m working hard and listening to the advice from those with more experience. I’m getting to know the guys on the team, and the coaches have been praising me. Everything is going great until I walk into an empty hotel or corporate apartment and reality hits.

  I’ve never wanted anything more than baseball until now.

  Checking the time, I head to the shower. I’m meeting some guys from the team downstairs in the sports bar attached to the hotel to watch the games. Male bonding and all that shit. Whatever. I’d rather hide out in this shitty hotel room talking to my girl, but I know she’s at dinner with the Taylors then heading to the movies with Trace. I’ll text her before I head downstairs since we won’t be able to talk until later.

  We also have other things to talk about, and I don’t want to wait until I get home to address it. The governor sent me an email saying he’d spoken to Charlotte briefly yesterday, letting her know he’d be in town this weekend. He wanted to meet with her for a face-to-face chat, and she refused, saying she’d rather not spend my first weekend home with family visits. I definitely understand that, but I’d rather be there for the family reunion, and since I’m not sure when the next availability will be and if my schedule will allow me to be home, it’s now or maybe never. She told me they spoke and didn’t keep that a secret, but she didn’t go into details. She’s excited about spending quality time together, which is great and I agree, but I think we need to make time for that, too, even if it feels like a chore.

  After a quick shower, I send Charlie a text.

  Me: Hey, beautiful. Hope you’ve had a great day. Let me know when you’ll be home. I want to make sure I’m back in the room in time to hear your voice. I miss you.

  I don’t expect the immediate response, but I can’t complain. Any connection to Charlie at this point is a reprieve from this hell of missing her, including typing words on this tiny damn screen.

  Buttercup: I’m out with Trace and Sue. We’re walking around the bookstore while we wait for Mary and Debbie before we head to the movies. I miss you too and can’t wait to talk to you tonight. Any news on when you’ll be coming home tomorrow? I didn’t make any plans for the weekend. I’m excited to have you all to myself. #SelfishFiancee

  What are you doing tonight?

  I’m surprised the Taylor sisters are making it out with the girls. It makes me feel better to think everyone is stepping up to be there for Charlie in my absence. It’s easier to deal with being alone when I know she’s being cared for.

  Me: I’ll know more in the morning about when I can get out of here. I expect to leave sometime in the late afternoon but possibly evening. It’s an easy drive, though. No matter what, I’ll make it home to you as soon as I can. We’ll talk tonight. There’s definitely something on my mind. I’m just heading to the sports bar inside the hotel to watch the games with the guys tonight to kill time. I’ll be close by. #WaitingImpatiently #LoveYouSelfish

  Buttercup: Something particular on your mind, hotshot? Should I be concerned? Do you not like the idea of being bored at home together and being forced to get creative with entertainment?

  Like that’s even possible. She’s lost her mind if she thinks I’d choose to be any other place. But being by her side when she has to face the past is necessary. Hopefully, she’ll understand that once I explain.

  Me: Buttercup, getting creative with you is one of my favorite hobbies, and I’d never be bored. Don’t worry. We’ll talk later. Have fun tonight and call me if you need anything. Anytime. L+u

  Me: L+u <3 Still more, Ty. I’ll text you when I’m heading home.

  Now to get through the next few hours until I can hear her voice and not feel a million miles away from her.

  ***

  “Dude, if I’d known hanging out with you in the bar was so beneficial, I’d have dragged you out every night this past two weeks,” Todd Ramirez, one of the first basemen for the AAA team, says.

  Sitting in this bar with these five men hasn’t sucked as much as I thought it would. This is the first invitation outside of work that I’ve accepted. The other nights I’ve spent my time holed up in the corporate apartment, soaking in my depressed state of missing my girl. But the team set us up in this hotel near the ballpark, about an hour from my temporary place, for the meeting tomorrow. It worked out since the bus dropped us off at the field on the way back from a game series in Rhode Island earlier today.

  Since my face was plastered all over the web a few weeks ago with that video with the reporter, I guess I’m somewhat recognizable in public. Something my teammates see as a benefit since the manager took care of our check, and in addition to that, other diners in the bar have been sending pitchers of beer and shots for the table.

  Now, it’s late, and that empty shitty bed upstairs is beginning to look more appealing. I should’ve considered alcohol as a remedy for my fucked-up attitude sooner. Who knew? But now I understand why there are no rules in the league against professional players overindulging. Alcohol is necessary as a coping mechanism when you’re sacrificing your life for the game.

  “Y’all are on your own for the rest of the night. I’m out of here. Hope you still get free shit without me, but gotta be honest, I give no shits if you don’t.” I laugh, pushing my stool away from the table to leave but stumble and have to grip the table to steady myself.

  “Stone, you pussy. Are you really too drunk to stand?” a right fielder, David Carlos, asks. It might be too soon to judge, but I’m not sure I like that asshole yet.

  “Fuck you, Carlos. Even stumbling drunk, I could run laps around your out of shape ass on or off the field. Be careful. You know I’m not afraid of a challenge or the possible risks of the performance being caught on video and going viral. That would be embarrassing for you.” The guy is arrogant—and not in a confident “I’ve got talent” way—and I’m more than willing to knock him down a few pegs in lieu of being another rookie punching bag for him. I might be the new guy, but that doesn’t mean I’ll take anyone’s shit. I haven’t yet, and I’m not starting now.

  From what little I’ve seen in the short time I’ve known Carlos, entitlement appears to be his major flaw. It’s one thing to exude confidence and know you’re good at your trade, but it’s another to think the world owes you while straddling the line of being an average player at best. When I saw his name on the list, I immediately questioned it in my head. I can count two hands full of players with more skill and focus. I’m not sure what that guy has that the coaches think they need, but it’s not my job to judge.

  Regardless, the fact is I am shitfaced. It’s been a while since I’ve been in this condition, and I’m sure I’ll feel it tomorrow. I should probably be glad I’m going to be in a dark room watching film reviews with the pitching coach tomorrow instead of sweating it out on a hot field fo
r most of the day. But I know I’ll be in the bullpen at some point too. I just hope my performance isn’t badly affected.

  The sole purpose of this meeting tomorrow is to strategize for when the roster expands to the forty-man team, and FUCK . . . I want on that roster. I refuse to say ‘if’ the roster expands because the playoffs are within reach for the team. I can feel it. I haven’t spent my life focused on a future playing in the pros to be in the farm league forever. I know I’m a rookie and paying my dues in the organization is the price to get to majors. I’m willing to serve my time, and I’m proving I’ll work hard to gain the skills they need in the meantime, but my goal is to play at the top. I’m not arrogant enough to believe I’m better than all the others are, but I do want that opportunity just as much, if not more.

  My actions need to speak as loud as my words do, but in my condition tonight, and where my head has been with the distance between Charlie and me, I’m not sure they’re communicating the same message. Hell . . . I’m not even sure I believe myself at times.

  I’ve thought about giving up more times than I can count. I love everything about this game. The passion, focus, and drive for it live deep within me, and I want this career, but I need my future with Charlie more. I knew the schedule and distance were going to fuck with my head. I didn’t want to be right about that, but I am. This isn’t everything I thought it was going to be.

  Without Charlie, I’d have nothing to lose, and I’d be thrilled to be here busting my ass day after day. But I do have her, and I don’t want to waste any moments without her. She’s my world. Giving her my last name almost feels like I’m assigning her a purpose. Stone. Charlotte Maryland Baker-Stone. My rock.

 

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