by Blue Stour
Little did he realize, that wasn’t his biggest surprise. Once at Broome Park, Kade and Mr. Richards were greeted by Flint’s manager, Coach Arthur. The trio walked into the small locker room after exchanging greetings.
“So, Kade, you’ve been a third baseman your entire life, huh?”Coach Arthur eased him into the move. “Have you ever played anywhere else?”
“Well, I pitched some in high school and rarely played a little shortstop at U.S.A., but third has always been mine.”
“Well,” the coach said with a smile. “We have plans for you reaching the Cubs lineup . . . as a left fielder. We see you, eventually, manning the outfield corners with one, Mr. Sosa?”
Kade’s bat had pounded many majestic shots into and over the outfield bleachers. Surprisingly to him, though, it was his cannon of an arm that propelled him to become a top-five draft pick.
The Cubs saw a rough diamond in the young man. With some minor-league tutoring, they planned to let Kade rule the left field portion of Wrigley Field for years to come. Since he had been groomed as a third sacker his entire life, Kade was surprisingly accepting of the changes that Coach Arthur talked about.
In his first game, nearly three weeks after the dorm-room celebration, the slugger nervously walked onto a professional field for the first time. Then, in the bottom of the first inning, he waited in the on-deck circle in front of a sparse crowd of barely-1,000 Broome Park regulars.
“Hey kid,” Coach Arthur said with a laugh as Kade stepped up the dugout steps to head to the on-deck circle. “He’ll start you with a curve. DON’T be anxious. Relax, keep your hands back, and let it flow; be natural.”
An apprehensive nod later, Kade stepped out of the dugout. In his dreams, the crowd had always been chanting and going crazy as he appeared with his bat in hand for the first time. That day, though, very few people even clapped for him. As he strolled to the on-deck circle, the much-celebrated star felt like a fish out of water.
“Now coming to bat and making his professional debut,” the public-address announcer broadcast over the loudspeaker after the batter before him spanked a double, “two-time all-American from the University of Southeast Arizona . . . Kade Toney.”
Now, that was more like it, he thought as he couldn’t contain a grin. Obviously he wasn’t appreciated by the hometown fans, yet, but it was something to him. Unfortunately, only a dozen or so fans even clapped.
Batting cleanup in his first pro game was a tremendous honor. However, it would be more memorable if he could reward Coach Arthur for his faith.
Stepping into the batter’s box, Kade dug his left foot into the dirt. Looking at his third base coach the entire time, the envy of virtually everyone he had ever played against was uncharacteristically jittery. After receiving a clap from the coach and looking out at the pitcher, who couldn’t have been more than twenty, Kade gently placed his right foot in the front of the batter’s box.
“Patience, Kade!” Coach Arthur screamed from the dugout on the third-base side. “Stay back and wait on it to break. C’mon three-four.”
Not noticing any sounds, Kade shifted his weight onto his rear foot. Then, he hiked the bat straight over his left shoulder, parallel to the ground. Following Kade’s much-needed deep breath and a glance toward the runner on second base, the pitcher took the sign and pitched the ball.
Call it nerves; call it excitement; call it unusual anxiousness, even. Regardless, Kade took a hack at the ball that was worthy of the funniest-baseball bloopers. At that instant, he looked like a junior high baseball player facing a professional pitcher; it was that bad.
Knowing a 70-mph curveball was coming, just as Coach had told him, his over-anxious body jumped to swing for an 85-mph fastball instead. Subsequently, he swung the bat as the ball was only about 3/4 of the way to home plate.
Embarrassed, he immediately stepped out of the batter’s box internally laughing. Kade knew that everyone at Broome Park had to be laughing, too. Coach Arthur just smiled and clapped. He and his new teammates were telling him it was okay.
Kade simply shook his head and laughed in relieved disgust. The next pitch, however, he planned to prove why he was there.
The Virginia native took a couple of practice swings before he stepped back into the box with his normal, determined look. This time, there was no pressure. Apparently, he released all of the awkward tension with that colossally-bad swing.
Smiling like a cocky punk, the pitcher delivered the next pitch. It was, indeed, a fast ball that time. Right down the middle of the plate, just above his belly button, Kade’s eyes lit up like a Christmas tree. He turned on the pitch and sent a line drive well over the 333’sign in right field, giving the Autos a 2-0 lead.
After the nine-inning affair was complete, and the park’s bright lights had been shut down, the scorebook showed a productive day. The “new kid,” had smacked two home runs over the Broome Park fence in his pro debut. Assuredly, he was on his way to the Big’s.
Making it even better was the fact that two of his college teammates, Julio and Kiko, had flown into Flint that morning to witness his first game and celebrate, as “only U.S.A. students can.”
“What’s it feel like to be the Golden Boy of the Chicago Cubs” the Autos catcher asked him at Mr. G’s, a local bar, following his impressive debut. “Think you’ll be here long, Kade?”
“Two yard-shots in your first professional game? That just doesn’t happen, man,” Kiko added. “Hell, we were playing for U.S.A. just a few weeks ago. Here’s to Kade Toney!”
“You got a ways to go, man,” Julio joked to Kade in complete seriousness, as only Julio could do. “That first dinger, not far as Babe Ruth’s first home run in his first game of baseball; but you can get there, man.”
“Awww, shut up, Julio,” Kiko interjected with a playful punch to his arm. “That was a shot, buddy.”
“Hey, man!” Added a defensive and joking Julio. “I read it on Wikipedia; the shit’s gospel, man!”
All eight of his buddies/teammates hoisted their shot glasses and beers to toast the Virginia native again. They downed their drink and were high-fiving and fist-pounding behind the blaring “dance-club music,” something new to Kiko and Julio.
Two local girls, Amber and Stephanie, were in the little dive-bar partying with them. They, too, raised their drinks and toasted the latest baseball phenom.
“So, Kade, what’s it like to be a god?” one of the drunk girls asked as she sat down on his lap. “You’re going to own this town, and you’ve been here one day!”
“A god?” Kade asked amidst laughter as he tipped back his beer. “I’m far from that, sweetheart. I probably just got lucky today.”
There wasn’t a pause or anything. When Kade mentioned luck, her starry eyes illuminated like Kade’s had done a few hours earlier when he saw that fastball sailing to his sweet spot of the plate.
Leaning to kiss him, the two began making out right there in his chair.
“I’ll show you lucky and give you a proper Michigan welcome,” she mumbled from her lips when they weren’t attached to his. “Let’s get out of here.”
What more could he say? Sure, two dingers in his pro debut was amazing, but this was ass. If Kade knew anything, there were two things he had mastered. The first was playing baseball, and the second was getting ass.
Hurriedly, they left. After bidding adieu to his friends, they shuffled towards his car. Their arms were locked around each other’s waists as they walked out the door.
Then, a certain skinny visitor from Arizona, a.k.a. Julio, had other ideas. As he raced from the bathroom, he stopped them in his best Inspector Gadget impersonation.
“Woah! Where you go, man?” he said as he ran to stop the pair from going out the door. “What about me? You two hook up anytime. I leave in morning. What about me, my feelings, my needs; what about Julio?”<
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“I love you, bro,” Kade playfully pushed the prankster out of the doorway. “I’ll call y’all tomorrow. Thanks so much for coming up. I’ll come down to see you guys as soon as I can.”
Still in awe, she was laughing at everything that he and his hilarious college roommate said.
Being with Kade made her feel the kind of way one would if they were having a conversation with a nationally-known celebrity. Kade was making her feel comfortable and at home, not to mention horny, with every word and look. She, in turn, was about to make him feel more welcome than he ever had felt in thumbed state.
The plan had been to accompany his female companion home but they never made it that far. On the way out of the bar, Amber’s fingers had already made it into the waistband of his jeans. Her cool fingers against the warmth of his lower back only added to the anticipation of what was about to come . . . .him. Walking through the vehicles just outside in mere seconds Kade found himself being pushed up against the back of some good ol’boys dirty pickup truck.
“So, super slugger what do you want from me?” Amber kissed her way along the hollow of his throat, stopping briefly to nip his chin before kissing him again. Not that she was necessarily talented with her mouth but he’d let her play the seductress if that’s what she wanted.
“It’s not about what I want, Amber, it’s about what you want to give. You’re the welcome committee, after all.”Kade was feeling his drinks more than he had originally thought, and he realized he didn’t give a shit what Amber wanted –he wanted a blowjob. Now, that’d be a helluva welcome.
Kade traced her lips with his finger before allowing him-self to pop the first two buttons on her shirt. Watching as her eyes flickered with interest he put his hands on her shoulders and pushed her to her knees. If she was surprised, she never said it. Instead Amber only watched as Kade unbuttoned and lowered his zipper. In seconds he held himself in hand and guided his erection towards her lips.
“Open up and suck me off.” She opened her mouth and he slid that silky smooth skin through her parted lips as he gripped her hair. Pushing until he felt his cock hit the back of her throat. He was pretty sure she gagged but she’d get used to it; they always did. Maybe it was the booze or maybe it was just the thought that he had just met Amber earlier and here she was with his dick shoved down her throat, but all he cared about was coming and heading home.
Kade had two fistfuls of her brassy blonde hair as he thrust in and out of her mouth, always deep and always fast. She wasn’t a great kisser but she wasn’t too shabby with a cock between her lips.
“Look at me, Amber.” When she saw the desire looking back at her she allowed herself to get completely lost in the moment of pleasing him. Nothing was ever as good to her as pleasuring a man-especially one with eyes like his. Feeling reassured she took him as far as she could and swallowed. Amber knew Kade had felt it and had liked it when his thrust became more frantic. When she moaned around his cock it sent vibrations from his balls to his brain, and she knew she had him.
“Shit! That mouth of yours is about to make me come.”
Amber expected Kade to want deeper in her mouth but watched as he gripped his cock in his hand and jacked off onto her face.
“Closer, now!” He demanded.
Fisting his shaft in one hand and Amber’s shoulder in the other he grunted as wave after wave of his come sprinkled her chest. When his gorgeous green eyes met hers briefly she was taken aback when his final spurt landed on her chin.
He had enjoyed himself but tomorrow was fast approaching. All he wanted was to send Amber on her way and hit the sack. One damn thing was certain, he sure as hell felt awfully welcomed to Michigan.
Chapter 6
Trying to forget about the love of his life and enjoy the unlimited pussy and booze at his beckon call, Kade continued on the path toward realizing his dream. Even though he often thought about Michelle and wondered how she was, what she was doing, and “what if,” baseball was more important. Instead of worrying about a four-letter L-word, he stayed true to the tunnel vision for his life-long goal; nothing else mattered.
Doing the same thing day-in, day-out was common in sports. However, it’s probably worst in baseball. Superstitions have evolved into a sort-of religion on the diamond.
For instance, Kade wore the exact same undershirt beneath his jersey every game, no matter the condition, no matter how dirty, filthy, or even wet; the shirt was the prized possession in his locker. Additionally, he tucked his game pants under at the calf; it was the same spot, every game. Also, he always left one button undone, which wasn’t normal for him, but the practice dated back to his first game when he stroked two dingers after he accidentally ripped the button off of his Autos’ jersey.
For the first time since he was a high school freshman on the diamond, he wasn’t wearing the # 11 and manning third base for “his team.” For baseball players, they were both huge deals. Superstitions are an everyday part of life in the game.
Oftentimes, players would go so far as to even eat the same foods, drink the same drinks, wear the exact same clothes, and try to do everything the same as they did before a previously good game or at bat. Everything had to be the exact same or negative results would ensue.
Kade not wearing # 11 was basically sacrilegious to him; he had worn it at third base since junior high. That season, though, he wore a # 34 Autos jersey and patrolled Broome Park’s left-field position for two months. In that time, Kade was quickly earning the reputation that he had one of the best arms in the minor leagues.
In addition to his arm, his bat earned him a late-season call up to AA baseball. The hammering rookie belted nine dingers during his two-month induction into professional baseball, in Flint. Subsequently, he was rewarded with a call-up to the Cubs’ AA team in Jordan, Minnesota, in late August of 1992.
Informed that he would be advancing to AA after a night contest, Kade flew into Minneapolis-St. Paul International Airport the next morning. Unlike his induction into pro baseball in Flint, it didn’t seem to be as big of a deal.
He had grown used to receiving plenty of local-media attention. Just like the Flint Journal wrote a half-page farewell to the “hall-of-fame bound slugger,” Jordan, Minnesota’s, Jordan Herald did the same to welcome him. The Arizonian Telegraph had followed him extensively, also.
In Minnesota, however, he was about to be thrust on a new stage. His play began garnering national attention. Most impressively of all of his media appearances, his two-month advancement into AA baseball earned him a small front-page picture on the cover of Baseball World. The nationally publicized newspaper/magazine ranked him as the fifth-hottest prospect in all of baseball.
“Welcome to Jordan, Kade,” legendary minor-league coach, Coach Lozon, greeted him at the Mini Met. “Hope you found it okay. We’re not as booney as people think here in Minnesota, son.”
“No coach. I found it okay, but y’all are definitely out here a little bit,” Kade said, joking and shaking his coach’s hand. “I’m just glad to be here. I’ve heard a lot about you, Coach. From what I’ve gathered, you’re a baseball genius.”
Laughing, Coach Lozon shook his head negatively.
“Kade, I just usually get people who are willing to work,” he modestly noted. “If you’re ready to buckle down and bust your ass, we’ll get you up to the show in no time. What d’ya say? You ready to work?”
“Yes sir!” The hot-shot prospect agreed as he dejectedly accepted his jersey, # 34, again.
For the final twenty-two days of that season, Kade tore it up in Jordan. Basically, he was playing like an all-star on the field and living life as a celebrity, off. He was as popular in Jordan and the surrounding area as Rod Carew and Kent Hrbek were throughout Minnesota.
Not once through the final three weeks of the season did Coach L ever try to perfect Kade’s already-perfect swing. Contra
stingly, the coach put in hours and hours toward the lesser-visible aspects of the slugger’s game; the tireless work had made him an above-average outfielder and a base-stealing threat.
In Jordan, the veteran coach was fulfilling his day-one promise of getting him big-league ready. In addition to concentrating on boosting the confidence of the future star, he was putting the finishing touches on a professional baseball player.
Kade didn’t miss one of Jordan Bears’ final seventeen games of the ’92 season. He actually batted better than the higher-ups were expecting, and he was turning into a defensive gem in the outfield. His all-around game was opening eyes throughout Minnesota, The Windy City, and across the nation.
The final game of that season exhibited just how far Kade had progressed in a short time with the Bears. His quest to become a complete player was something that he and Coach Lozon had worked on extensively.
With one out in the bottom of the ninth, the Jordan Bears trailed 4-3 under the Mini Met’s bright lights. In a suspense-filled moment, Kade knocked a base hit into center field to drive home the tying run. As he stood on first base, part of his new game that Coach Lozon and he had been working on so tirelessly became evident.
Always with adequate speed, he was never a speed merchant or a consistent base-stealing threat. However, for the first time in his life, Lozon was actually teaching him how to run the bases.
“How’s life treating y’all,” Kade talked to opposing first baseman as the pitcher stepped to the mound having just tied the game. “Nice hit earlier, by the way; you hit the hell out of that ball.”
Exchanging few pleasantries at that tense time in the ballgame was nothing new for Kade. Standing with his left foot on the bag, he pushed his right farther apart, never taking his eyes off of the pitcher. He did it all while listening to the first-base coach shout instructions.