Hole five was a tricky par three. It took a perfect wedge with a touch of backspin to get the ball over a large pond and then stop on the green at the other side. Russ had that perfect wedge. None of the others came close. The other three guys sent multiple balls into the water.
The four guys hopped into their four carts after multiple attempts. While three of them headed to the green, Tommy drove straight into the pond. The entire cart went underwater, with Tommy behind the wheel.
Dwayne was preparing to rip his shoes off and go on a rescue mission, when Tommy’s head popped above the surface. “Got ’em!” he yelled, holding up two golf balls. “I didn’t see yours though, guys. You want me to just leave them?”
Steve and Dwayne looked at each other, confused. Russ fell to the ground laughing.
“We’re good, Tom,” Steve shouted back to him.
Tommy went back under for another minute or so. It was both impressive and concerning. The others stood by, watching, waiting to see what could possibly happen next. Tommy finally came up for air again. “I can’t get my golf cart to move,” he called out. “I’m wondering if the battery went dead. You guys have any jumper cables?”
“Sorry, Tom,” Dwayne replied. “Why don’t you just grab your clubs and hop on with Steve?”
Steve scowled at Dwayne. Tommy went under again.
Dwayne looked at Russ. “How much did you give him?”
“Two.”
“How long is it gonna last?”
“Eight to ten hours.”
“Strong?”
“The strongest.”
Moments later, Tommy emerged from the other side of the pond and walked onto the green, dripping wet, his golf bag over his shoulder. He made his way to Steve’s cart, strapped his bag on, and grabbed his putter.
“Well, okay then,” Dwayne said.
Tommy approached his golf ball on the green and meticulously lined up his putt. His ball lay roughly fifteen feet from the hole. He took his shot. The ball rolled about six inches. He stepped up again and hit. It made it another three to four inches. This continued for the entire fifteen feet.
Walking back to the carts, Dwayne asked the others what score they got on the hole so that he could fill out the scorecard.
“I got a nine,” Dwayne told them.
“Birdie, bitches!” Russ bragged.
“I got a nine also, D,” Steve added.
Tommy paused to count his shots. He was pointing at each spot his ball went to, then calculating the sum of them in his mind.
“I got a twenty-seven,” he said.
Tommy then looked over at Russ, who had turned almost blue from holding in his chuckles. He looked at Dwayne, who offered a sympathetic smile. He turned his attention to Steve, sitting beside him, who was still clutching his putter and looking scared shitless of Tom.
“Hang on just a second,” Tommy continued. “So, I just drove a golf cart into the pond to find the two balls I hit into it. I putted the ball over twenty times. I’ve seen at least a half dozen birds flying backwards in the last minute, and I’m pretty sure there’s a panda in that tree over there playing Metallica on a saxophone. Sooooo … I’m guessing I should say thanks for the LSD, Russ.”
Russ burst out laughing. He laughed so hard he started wheezing.
“I was hoping to have a serious conversation about keeping our shit together and following a code,” Dwayne stated. “But I guess that talk will have to happen later. Just try and hold it together at the game tonight, guys. We’re getting close to winning this thing, and Steve is right about one thing. The cops are watching.”
The rest of the round of golf went as rounds of golf with the baseball dads typically went, with the exception of Tommy. Dwayne, Russ, and Steve each achieved varying levels of inebriation, as usual. Tommy was an overachiever, though. He rode on the roof of the cart for the entire back nine with his legs dangling over the front windshield.
Russ won the golf game with a 72. Dwayne got a 113, and Steve got a 115. Tommy finished with a 121, but he didn’t play the last seven holes.
“Russ, you get the honor of dropping Tommy off at his house, since you dosed him,” Dwayne said at the end of the game. “Tell Kelly to get some food in him and keep him in front of a television. Maybe throw on some cartoons. Nothing with clowns.”
Dwayne left the country club mildly disappointed. Russ and Tommy had begun to take the Jedi lifestyle out of context, and it was bothering him. They had little desire to use their powers for justice. They just wanted to use them for self-gratification. It was a recipe for disaster. And as much as Dwayne knew that he currently had a great relationship operating above suspicion with the police, he was no longer certain of what the future held for the Jedi Alliance.
Steve, while overboard in his paranoia, may have been onto something. Dwayne felt like he wouldn’t be doing right by his family if he didn’t at least prepare for the possibility that the world could come crashing down around them. He had an amazing family and a baby on the way. For the first time since becoming a Grandmaster Caped Crusader Jedi Ninja, Dwayne was scared. He had forgotten what it was like to have uncertainty. He needed a way to quell it.
What Dwayne needed was a backup plan, just in case the proverbial shit hit the fan. He had to plan an escape. Just in case.
To make matters worse, there was yet another envelope sitting on Dwayne’s seat when he opened the door to his truck. On it was written, “How long until they know what you’re up to?” He didn’t even open the envelope this time; he just threw it in the glove box.
Yup, he needed a plan. He wouldn’t allow his chest to tighten up, even though it wanted to. He had to win the championship. He had to stay focused. He slapped himself hard across the face. “Get your fucking head in the game, Dwayne!” he yelled into the mirror. “Don’t fucking lose it now! You’re close, man! You’re close!”
Instead of heading straight home, Dwayne made sure he wasn’t being followed and then made his way to the local RV dealership. He scoured the lot with an obnoxious, brown-toothed salesman, who wore a tan polyester suit straight out of the early ’80s, until they came upon the most badass RV Dwayne had ever seen.
Dwayne used his ninja powers to grind the salesman down to an amazing deal and, after two hours of haggling, signed the paperwork. Dwayne let him know that either he or his assistant would return within a couple of days to pick the RV up.
He called Uzi as soon as he got back in his truck.
“Wass crack-a-lackin’, boss man?” Uzi asked.
“You want to make some more cheddar, my man?”
“Always, Big D. Whatchoo got?”
“I need your email address. I’m going to send you passport photos of my wife, my son, and myself. I need new identities, a new credit profile, and new credit cards, brother.”
“I got your back, homie. Anything I need to be aware of?”
“Not yet. I just live by a code, man. I see that code in you too, bro. I hope you stick with it. The other guys aren’t quite cutting it. I need to be prepared, man. And this stays between us.”
“No worries. How quick you need ’em?”
“A couple of days.”
“Coolio, bro. My email is [email protected].”
“Nice.”
“Thanks.”
“I’ll leave a wad of cash in my mailbox tonight. Take care.”
“Peace.”
Dwayne’s phone quacked immediately after hanging up with Uzi. He glanced down at it. It was the text chain again.
TOMMY:
hsgdybkwhsk&&&88%%#@$
STEVE:
Nice job, Russ.
RUSS:
LOL.
TOMMY:
monkeeeeeeeeeey
DWAYNE:
Okay, guys, be at the field at 5. We’re playing the Mariners tonight. That’s Pastor Harper’s team. They’re going to be our toughest opponents. We’re the only two undefeated teams in the playoffs. We’ll probably be seeing them in the championshi
p game. Let’s do this.
STEVE:
No prob. I’d love to win the championship before my life sentence.
RUSS:
Technically, I think this would be a death penalty case, Steve.
STEVE:
Oh, right. Let’s win it all before our lethal injections then, okay?
RUSS:
And Tommy, just so you know, I’m totally drilling Kelly tonight.
TOMMY:
fffffffffffuuuhhhyyyyyyyyyoooooo
DWAYNE:
See you there. Don’t fuck this up, guys.
RUSS:
Later.
STEVE:
Whatever.
TOMMY:
%
53.
The day had gone downhill for Dwayne since he received the amazing news about Estelle being pregnant. He felt his Jedi-ninja powers evolving. The urge to protect his family at all costs had never been so prominent.
Estelle ran to the front door and leapt into his arms. “I missed you, babe,” she said. “How much time do we have?”
“Enough,” he smiled back at her.
He carried her into the bedroom, where he set her down slowly as they kissed. They peeled each other’s clothes off and stumbled toward the shower. The two of them were more in love than ever. Something about the pregnancy had elevated things to an incomprehensible level.
“You’re amazing, my little Catwoman,” he said.
“You’re not too bad either, my big strong Batman,” she said, returning the compliment. “You still doing okay, sweetie?”
“I’ll be fine, babe. We both will. It’s not always rainbows and butterflies in the life of a ninja though, you know? I forget that sometimes.”
“You’re still okay with us though, right?”
“You know it, babe. I’m excited as hell about our little bun in the oven. It gives me perspective. It makes me more aware of what’s going on around me. I’m still a badass motherfucking ninja Jedi warrior, it’s just that now I’m a badass motherfucking ninja Jedi warrior with an eye on the future. Gotta adapt, sugartits.”
“Good. You’ve just been so confident lately, honeyballs … And then today, something looked … different.”
“I’m still confident, muffinbutt. Totally. I think I may have misjudged some people, though. That’s all. I’m taking a few steps to make sure that if our ninja lifestyle is misunderstood by the long arm of the law, we’ll still be fine. It’s the evolution of the warrior.”
“Are you sure everything is okay?”
“I’m positive. Do me a favor though, babe. Think about something. If we had to drop everything and leave town tomorrow, what would you bring with us? Whatever that is, I want you to get it together.”
“But … why?”
“Just in case.”
54.
Dwayne and Alex arrived at Jenny Field at 4:58 p.m. Both of them were excited for the challenge that lay ahead. They knew that Pastor Harper’s team, the Mariners, would put up a fight. The Mariners played dirty, hard, real baseball. It was going to be fun.
Steve, Russ, and Tommy pulled into the parking lot with their boys just as Dwayne and Alex were about to grab the baseball gear from the back of Dwayne’s truck. Everyone was in uniform. That gave Dwayne a small level of comfort.
The boys all high-fived each other, then pulled the two buckets of balls and catcher’s equipment from the truck bed and headed to the batting cages.
Russ pulled an enormous joint from his pack of cigarettes and sparked it up, then passed it around. In between hits, Russ snuck his little cocaine contraption from his pocket and snorted away. He reeked of beer and liquor, and could barely piece a sentence together.
Tommy wasn’t faring much better. He hadn’t said a word since he arrived. He merely stood and nodded when Dwayne reviewed strategies with them. He pushed his sunglasses up every few minutes and had developed something of a nervous twitch.
Steve was constantly looking over his shoulder. He couldn’t shake the crazy feeling that he was being watched. And as it turned out, he was right. Dwayne spotted Detective Loffland’s unmarked car hidden around the side of the ballpark.
Dwayne decided to stop by and say hello to the detective. As Dwayne approached his vehicle, Detective Loffland opened up his door and stepped out.
“You’re a hell of a coach, Mr. Devero,” he said. “I’ve been impressed. Not so much with your dazzly little coach’s shirts, but still.”
“Thanks, Detective!” Dwayne replied. “You should come grab a seat in the bleachers tonight. It’s gonna be a good game.”
“I would, but I’ve been working this case day and night. At some point I’m hoping to see something bigger than possession of marijuana. I kinda need to stay behind the scenes.”
Dwayne grinned. He could tell Detective Loffland was one of those cops that could care less about weed violations. “I hear ya, Detective. That’s a good thing, too. We all need ways of coping with assholes. And by the way, speaking of assholes, I’m playing the King of Assholes tonight, Pastor Jim Harper.”
“Man, that guy is a douche. Beat the shit out of him for me. Good luck!”
“Thanks. Let me know if I can help at all with the case.”
The two shook hands and slapped shoulders. Dwayne headed over to the cages while the detective attempted to resume his “hidden” position.
After batting practice was completed, Dwayne called the team and coaches together for a pump-up meeting and asked the boys to take a knee. “This is the team to beat, men,” he began. “And it’s time for me to let you know something: You’ve played great so far in the playoffs. But that won’t be enough tonight. Tonight, I need you to play better. You’ve hit well so far in the playoffs, also. But tonight, I need you to hit better.”
Dwayne paced back and forth in front of the team. They were listening intently. They were focused. There were no smiles, only snarls.
“You can claim a victory here tonight, men,” he continued. “But it won’t be given to you. You’ll have to latch on to it with both hands and rip it away from the Mariners. And make no mistake about it, they will play dirty, and we will not. They will be loose with the rules. We will not be. They will cheat. We will not. We will unite as a team once again, we will shut them down defensively, and we will explode while in the batter’s box. Every inning, we will kill. Every inning, we will destroy. Every inning, we will make the Mariners rue the day someone handed them a baseball bat and told them they could do something with it.”
Dwayne paused. He looked each boy in the eye.
“And once our six innings have come to an end, we will emerge victorious.”
The boys erupted in excitement. Russ, Steve, and Tommy felt as though they’d just been privy to one of the greatest speeches in the history of sports.
“Bring it in, boys! Tigers kill, on three!”
“One … two … three … TIGERS KILL!!!”
Dwayne headed to the mound to shake hands with Dave the umpire and Pastor Jim before the game. Dave went through the rules, as was customary, and they flipped a coin to determine who would be “home” and who would be “visitor.” Pastor Jim won the coin toss and elected to be the “home” team.
“Okay, men, shake hands, and then let’s play some baseball,” Dave said.
The two reached out their hands and shook as the crowd began to cheer. Pastor Jim leaned over to Dwayne to attempt to rattle him. “I’ve always admired your wife, Dwayne,” he said. “I bet she’d be a great missionary. She’s had an incredible amount of practice in the missionary position.”
That struck a nerve. Dwayne squeezed Pastor Jim’s hand as tightly as he could, almost bringing him to his knees. The aggressive gesture didn’t go unnoticed by the crowd. A few boos could be heard from the stands.
“Listen here, you hypocritical pedophile,” Dwayne said through gritted teeth. “If you ever mention my wife again, I will sodomize you with a baseball bat until blood pours from your ears. Am I clear on that
?”
Pastor Jim nodded. Dwayne released his hand, leaving the pastor to rub his fingers and assess for damage.
“Now, go pray for mercy, douchebag,” Dwayne added, giving a mockingly playful punch to the pastor’s shoulder. “I’m about to unleash the hounds of Hell on you.”
Dwayne turned and walked back to his dugout. He was pissed. And he wasn’t the only one. Pastor Jim was rather upset as well. These two men absolutely hated each other. The battle was set to begin.
Russ’s son, Jackson, was the lead-off batter for the Tigers. Russ scurried to serve as first-base coach, beside the Mariners’ dugout.
“I hope you know that you’re attaching yourself to a sinking ship by being friends with Dwayne,” Pastor Jim called over to Russ.
Russ was doing everything he could not to respond. He was ready to explode into a violent cocaine-and-alcohol rage. Unfortunately, Russ was a deacon in the church, and the church had been his prime source of business investors. Because of this, Pastor Jim was pretty much the only person Russ had never blown up on.
Still, Russ wasn’t about to let it go. He moved close to the kid on first and whispered, “Hey, has Pastor Jim ever asked you to find your happy place while he tickled your privates?”
The boy just shook his head as a look of fear overcame him.
“Good to hear, son. Good luck today.”
Pastor Jim’s son, Noah, was pitching. Noah went to work on Jackson, throwing everything in his bag of tricks. Jackson swung at a beautiful curveball and an extremely slow changeup. He missed both. Noah finished Jackson off with an incredible fastball that painted the outside corner.
Defeated and humiliated, Jackson dragged back to the dugout with his head down. TJ took the plate next. It was the same story. Great pitching had neutralized another great batter. Noah struck TJ out in four pitches. Now it was up to Steve’s son, Jonathan, to keep the inning alive before Alex could get a shot at batting cleanup.
Jonathan took Noah to a full count, with three balls and two strikes. Noah decided to send a message to the Tigers with his next pitch. He figured it was time to get inside their heads. He threw a screaming fastball right at Jonathan’s head. Jonathan managed to turn just enough so that the ball merely grazed his cheek, but it was enough to draw blood. It was also enough to throw him off balance, and he fell backward to the ground.
Base Ball Dads Page 23