Saturday, May 30, 2009

Nightmare Series 9

The Return of Helen Keller

"I wrote this in the right mood. I studied a lot about Helen Keller so this is pretty accurate. Writing is to healing."

Terry Francona sat alone in a room. Blood pressure was exploding. He has just been thrown out of a game again the Twins. He didn't feel well. They lost in Toronto. Pressure was immense. Every day was a headache. David struggling, Tim couldn't hold the game, Dice-K was crumbling, Drew was struggling, everything was always pressure. His heart hurt. His head hurt. He rested his tired skull against the wooden desk and slept.


“Terry Francona...didn't we learn ANYTHING since we last spoke?”

He looked up. The office was a field of clover waving against the afternoon breeze. There she was standing erect and proud. Her name was Helen Keller and this was not the first time they had met.

Terry touched his hands and feet. It all felt so real.

“Not this again.”

She smiled and sat down next to him munching on a carrot. It was indeed Helen Keller, the Helen Keller from his last nightmare.

“You're killing yourself Terry. Don't you see that. This is just a stupid game. It's not your life. It's not who you are!”

Terry sighed looking up at the sky.

“You can't see a sky in a metro-dome. Gets to you but that's why I'm there. That's why I play this game...Helen...I love this game. I love it.”

She held his hand.

“Very unconvincing Tito. Let me tell you, this life...after death...it's not the same Terry. What you have now in many ways, is everything. “

“No it isn't! I want out, “ snapped Tito. “I want out.”

Helen held him tight.

“Cop out Tito.”

Tito sighed. Water filled his eyes.

“It's OK...”

“It's not OK, “snapped Tito. He rose up and kicked the clover.

“I can't fix David's hitting...I can't. I can't make Dice-K pitch and I can't please the...the fans who want everything from me. I can't. Get rid of Lugo, trade Dice-K, fire David, get this player and get that player...Helen...I can't be their God. I'm only a human being and I'm tired of the press and the strain and the road and the pressure. It's killing me!”

Tito fell down again rested against the field of clover. His chest began to hurt.

“So much easier to be a player. Oh...you have no idea how much easier it is...and I didn't get it, until I had to put up with this. Did you know, “said Tito facing Helen's face, “ that Jason Bay got death threats from the Boston fans for not playing last year so he could witness the birth of his daughter. These people have no understanding of humanity.”

Helen signed.

“Are you afraid you'll lose your humanity too?”
He didn't answer. He didn't want to answer.

“I always loved the water Tito, even when I was blind and deaf. I loved the salt air and the feel of water on my body. Annie was always good about that as was mom. Come on...”

No, “snapped Tito but before he knew it he was sitting on the waters edge against the ocean.

“Tuscombia Alabama doesn't have an ocean Tito. You have to travel to it...but being dead does have its advantages.”

Tito rubbed his eyes.

“There was a reporter who once said..in 1975 I think, the Sox were always good...but never good enough and when they became...almost good enough...to be honest with you...”

Helen held her hand over his mouth.

Never wish for things Tito. Try this, take a day off...a time to just recharge. You need a day when the media isn't talking about David Ortiz and the team isn't struggling and...”

Terry leaned back and said, “David Ortiz hitting again...that would be magnificent...”

“Until the next problem Tito. You're missing the point!”

Tito rested against the sand.

“Oh Helen...in 2007 everything just came together and 2008 was a complete mess and then we enter 2009...it was all supposed to be so perfect.”

She smiled and kissed his hand.

“There was a time I was in love with someone...a helper at the place. Oh I was so taken away with him and I desperately wanted to escape into that fantasy. He wanted to take me away and marry me. I met him later...up here...but as you may have guessed...that chemistry faded away. ”

Tito looked over raising his eyebrow.

“So I take it you broke it off.”

For the first time, Helen's lips pressed together.

“Well, to be honest, Annie and mom were furious when they found out...when I was alive that is...and I suppose they were right. I was deaf and blind...not the kind of thing a marriage invites so that ended that. Mom actually fired the man. I suppose I should be angry, but I owed that to Annie and mom. “

Tito sighed and starred at her frail face.

“Marriage and love were not something that was going to happen to either Annie or myself. Did you know Annie was married once to a professor – John Macy. They met while I attended Radcliffe but it wouldn't work. How could she be committed to two human beings? They separated and faded away with time. Helen Keller...the burden.“

Now she was the one in tears.

“You're no burden Helen.”

She rubbed his scalp. That nerve was struck hard with an anvil. She had a frail side.

“Nice try Tito but you can't have lost two of your senses and not be a burden.”

Tito sighed and said, “I'm afraid of death Helen...that's why I'm here.”

Helen chuckled. She sighed and rubbed her hair.

“Oh you're so obvious Tito. Can't you be a challenge to me for once.”

Helen got up and stretched.

“I suffered several strokes in 1961 that ended my public appearances and my fame. I became a recluse and yes there were the happiest times of my life. I read books.”

Tito laughed.

“Tito...don't you get it. Books were everything to me. You could just escape into the world of the hearing and seeing and forget about everything. Little Lord Fauntleroy. I must have read it three times. I read so much towards the end of my life. It was the closest I could get to feeling like a person who could see and hear and not be a burden. “

Tito let his feet fall into the sand. He felt the warm grains of golden yellow cover his skin.

“Never easy playing in Boston.”

Helen handed him a photo.

“Check it out Tito! They finally found it. The photo of me holding the doll given to me by the children at Perkins School for the Blind when I was eight years old. My oldest living photo. Wasn't I cute? Annie looked so serious. She never smiled. She always looked sad. This photo was was taken in Cape Cod. I loved Cape Cod. “

Helen put the photo back in her dress.

“Annie and her brother found themselves abandoned when Annie was just ten years old. Her alcoholic father was broke and dumped them off like so much garbage at relatives who then dumped them at the Tewksbury Almshouse – an insane asylum. Can you imagine living in that place of disease and sickness. She witnessed her own brother die in that miserable place of TB. Annie went through a living hell. She pleaded with someone to get an education and she that and a job at the Perkins Institute for the Blind and do you know what her first assignment was? “

Helen smiled.

“Did she ever overcome her demons, her anger...I don't know Tito. She never talked about it and I never asked. “

Helen paused wiping the tears off her face.

“Tito, we all have pain in our lives...it's how we handle it and how we process it that matters. We're all going to die...I can testify to that. And yes, you're time will come too but you are a strong man...or you wouldn't be in the game. ”

Tito looked at her and felt her face, her features.

“Thank you.”

She smiled and said, “I know you're afraid of dying Tito. I know that but this time is the best time of your life believe it or not. Every moment you're alive is an amazing moment. You will look back at this and miss it. “

Tito got up and said, “maybe I'll stay here for a while...if you don't mind.”

Helen sighed and said, 'I'll always be here for you Terry. That's what friends are for...even if they are deaf and blind!”

He smiled and leaned back against the sand.

“I'll be glad when we're off this road trip Helen.”

“Did you ever call your daughter?”

He sighed and said, “the machine was on. I didn't leave a message.”

She sighed and held his hand. She pulled out a book.

“Since we're here for a while...how about a book to read.”

He laughed and said, “Little Lord Fauntleroy right?”

She laughed and said, “forget it. I Robot by Issac Asimov...unlike that garbage movie of the same name. I love science fiction and I need a good laugh!”

She began reading to him and he felt more and more relaxed against the sand and against the pressure of the day.


Thursday, May 28, 2009

Nightmare Series 8 – Nick Green

"The story contains actual and accurate portrayals of the figures in question (minus Nick Green) to the best of my ability. I've studied these figures for a long time and was hungry to write this one."


If there was one thing to be said about Nick Green was that he was trying and yet despite it all, Julio Lugo got more starts and got a lot more attention. In a way he couldn't blame Tito, Green had made his share of errors himself, but what was Lugo doing to earn that right?

He looked around him. It was an old western town filled with desert on either side of it. It felt like out of a movie and outside of two voices he heard from the bar, the town was completely empty. He walked forward towards the bar trying to ascertain the situation. When he moved past the doorway, he saw two people playing cards at the table. They were clearly from a different time.

“That was a three of clubs you pompous back stabber, “snapped the wry man with the round face and silver white hair waring a simple black outfit. “Every single time I play cards with you...”

“Really John, your eyesight works as well as your temper. It was clearly a five of hearts or is this the time to kick your wig around the room and scream!”

“Tom, you lie as well as you manage your finances and run your University!”

The anger that filled the man the man called Tom simmered but then quelled as Tom placed that questionable card on the table.

There...I told you, “cursed the man named John!

“I swear to you John that the card you are starring at is a five of hearts. Your eyesight...”

“It is a three of clubs, “interjected Nick Green who not only invited a stare from both of them but sent the man named John into a proverbial fit of euphoria.

There...for once in my life...Mr. Backstabber...”

“Don't say it, “snapped the man named Tom. Tom himself looked regal with an elaborate outfit and auburn red hair. He was tall and obviously wealthy and carried pride within his heart.

Stop it, “snapped Nick.

The two put their cards down and starred at the figure walking in the room. Nick sat down beside them.

“Where am I?”

“I have no idea, “said the man named Tom.

“Ha, “laughed the man named John, “finally I get my due...oh by the way, the name's John Adams!”

Nick nodded and then said with elation and pride, 'that's nice. Who are you?”

The man chucked and said, “Thomas Jefferson!”

Thomas got up and shook Nick's hand. Adams, unknown to Nick was rolling his eyes and pulling his hair out of his head.

“Calm down John, “said Thomas. “Clearly the man has taste!”

John grabbed the first chair he could get at and threw it across the room.

“Oh John, showing your more primitive side!”

Adams came back ready to slam his fist into Jefferson's face and said “, I sacrificed myself and my party...”

“The Federalists...I think it was...another note in history!”

John held his tongue and gave a bitter smile and said, “yes...my backstabber. The Federalists...and I made peace with Paris, while you...Mr. Vice President...did everything you could to cut my throat and ensure my downfall. “

Thomas sighed and said, “the Alien and Sedition act did that for you...John!”

'Oh you're a great finger pointer John but you're a liar!

“I..., “said Thomas grabbing some tea, “have no idea what sort of manifestations and lies you have created all to impress this fine young gentle...what is your name?”

Nick felt beaming pride and elation and said, “Nick Green sir!”

“Yes, “said Thomas...”Nick Green.”

Thomas then turned again and said, “oh...I see he plays for Boston...ah...he is a baseball player...part of that ruff and obtuse crowd that Boston bears such pride in!”

The laugh from Jefferson faded Nick's smile and mood.

“We have baseball and no slavery...while Virginia, as I predicted, bore the pride of defending slavery and separating itself from the union in 1861, ending in 1865, one hundred years later as I predicted!”

John Adams then laughed and fell back down on his seat.

Ignore my learned fellow Mr. Green. His charges and accusations are of no consequence. I did not have slaves!”

John slammed the table and said, “oh...now that slavery in America is illegal. I'm sure Sally Hemming would be proud of that one!”

It was the first time that Jefferson boiled with anger and threw the cards away.

Do you two always fight like this?”

Jefferson chuckled and said with a vicious twist of the tongue, “the man knows his history all too well.”

Adams snapped his tongue and said, “well...my learned scholar who wrote the Declaration Of Independence...”

Adams then paused and said, “and nothing else!”

Adams them leaned back and said, “who didn't attend the Constitutional Convention because he was too busy burning through his finances in France, flirting with women before heading back to America to take down my administration instead of WORKING with me. Why did you do it? For your own gain while working with France to encourage the French Revolution...you must have really liked the guillotine. Obviously, cutting off people's heads is your specialty!”

Enough, “snapped Jefferson. “You're no saint, driving your kids from you...”

How dare you, “snapped Adams.

And I would hardly call you a diplomat standing in the shadow of Franklin...”

Who spoke horrible French and screwed every woman in France!”

And let's not forget the Alien and Sedition acts...”

Adams gripped his fists in tight order.

You brought down Washington with your endless backstabbing ways calling him an old dolt and fool simply because you didn't like his policies. Rather than confront the man...you broke him! Anyone you disagree with...you cut their throats because you don't have the courage to confront them!”

Jefferson threw the table over and grabbed his gun aiming it at Adams.

It's OK Jefferson...I'm already DEAD!

Nick grabbed the gun and tossed it away.

Enough...from both of you! Were you always like this?”

Adams turned towards Jefferson and smiled. Thomas returned the smile and sat down again grabbing another deck of cards.

Forget us Mr. Green...please sit down and tell us your problem,” said Adams.

Nick sighed and sat down. He said, “Julio Lugo, “ as Jefferson and John traded cards.

I have seen the man in action, “said John wincing when he said the term action.

John, “said Thomas. “I had no idea you served yourself a dish of common garbage, otherwise known as baseball!”

Hey, “snapped Nick. “Come on...why are you so insulting Mr. Jefferson. You're my hero you know! I don't believe the science. I know you didn't have an affair with Sally Hemming.”

John hit his head against the table and said, “the education system of America once again shines.”

Indeed, “smiled Thomas. “Face it John a hundred books could be read of your exploits and yet I will stand out on top!”

John raised his face and said, “oh like when you were governor of Virginia and let Benedict Arnold burn your home to the ground...great security measures Thomas!”

Thomas smiled and said, “that never happened and Mr. Green is right...I didn't have slaves!”

I am the one who didn't have slaves! I paid my workers driving my farming business to the ground in the process because I cared about worker rights...you on the other hand thought making nails was a good business for slaves. I suppose you liked to nail them to crosses!

Jefferson became livid with anger!

I fought to free them, Madison and I fought to free them...what did you do!”

Adams threw the cards at Jefferson's face and said, “I am done with you. All you do is deny everything while backstabbing everyone in the back. I never should have reconciled with you. It was my biggest blunder in history! I leave you with one thing – X,Y,Z
John stormed out of the room.

In the distance Nick Green heard the scream say, “I suppose you don't know about that one either Jefferson!”

Thomas chuckled and said, “The X,Y,Z affair which lead to Adams creating the Alien and Sedition Act. Ah. I like history Mr. Green, especially when the minor figures have left the room!”

The X,Y,Z affair was simply the proof that Adams showed congress that he had indeed sent three diplomats to France to make peace. Adams felt that the names should not be revealed and called them X,Y, and Z. This brought down the charge that Adams was NOT trying to make peace but war with France which is what his party wanted.

Nick leaned back and said, “you're not like what I pictured!”

Thomas said, “did you read any biography about me?”

No?”

Good, “smiled Thomas, “because they are all lies...minus the Declaration part and of course the Louisiana Purchase...not that I violated my own principles in getting that land...because I didn't...mostly...but the point is my friend, that when you look at those times, you must look first at myself, then Franklin and you will know what happened!”

Nick sighed and looked at the cards.

You cheated. There are only four aces in a deck!”

Jefferson looked at the seven aces and said, “not true.”

Nick leaned up and said, 'you're like Julio Lugo...you won't admit anything about your actions. How can you live like that!”

I'm dead idiot!”

Nick got up and said, “I don't blame Adams...you are a jerk!”

Thomas laughed as Nick stormed out of the room. He stood in the open street and saw the rotund figure resting against the chair.

A life such as yourself is not an easy one, “said Adams. “I have no easy answers for you...just do your best and hope that history remembers you.”

Nick leaned back and said, 'history isn't fair. The winners write it.”

Jefferson was a great writer, I'll give him that...and at one time my friend. Of course being a great writer made him loved by everyone. Everyone loves fiction and a good tale. The honest ones are relegated to the footnotes.“

Adams dusted his pants and said, “Oh well, Abigail should have dinner for me now. I'm eating with my children.”

Adams turned into the bar and screamed, “my son, also a great President!”

Who?” came the voice from inside the bar.

Adams got up ignoring the comment and said, “join me. Perhaps a dinner with Abigail and my children will quell that inner demon of anger!”

Nick got up and said, “sounds like a plan...now tell me how to beat Lugo!”

Adams laughed and said, 'those who know how to work the press will always win my friend...but it is the true talent that defines our destiny.”

Nick paused as Adams laughed and said, “face it my friend...we are two people destined for oblivion. Jefferson spoke and Franklin was made from the dust and between the two, the Revolution was born. Oh I hate history!”

Nick laughed.

“So what was your life like?”

“Mine, “chuckled Adams. “I'm a poor farmer and a lawyer. Did you know I helped defend two British soldiers from execution during the so-called 'Boston Massacre'?

“No, “ said Nick.

“The so-called massacre was simply an action out of control. England wanted to calm down the anger in the colonies but it reached a head in Boston. Soldiers were sent in to calm Boston's rebellion down. A mob approached the soldiers and things got out of hand. They were kids, young and inexperienced. If anything it should have been called the Boston Mob!”

Adams grabbed some water from a small bottle he carried with him.

“From there I worked my way into the Continental Congress where I argued – successfully for succession from England and gave Jefferson the task to write the document – the man was always in the right place at the right time. “

Adams paused. He seemed somber now.

“Then I became a diplomat to France to which I was ill equipped for. I did get money from the Dutch while Jefferson spent all his money away. Franklin...the bastard did accomplish what we needed – the French loved him and his sickening charm. “

Adams leaned down looking at the dust.

“Then I became Vice President where I alienated congress so much that they created a Vice President who couldn't argue with congress which is why your Vice President today has little to do. Then I became President enduring the plague of Thomas Jefferson who would not give up until he became President...but it's a long story my friend. Jefferson drove me out of office. He was his own News Channel smearing everyone and everything he didn't like. I died on the farm, alone and forgotten. I suppose they'll remember me for the letters I wrote Jefferson!”

John chuckled.

“Oh Mr. Green, you have more fame than I will ever have in my lifetime.”

“They didn't make a movie about me...Mr. Adams.”

Adams laughed and said, “I did like that movie...even though I looked so ugly on screen. I always felt Tom Cruise should have played me, “chuckled Adams.

John got up waving to Nick.

“Oh my boy, let's head out to Abigail. I'm hungry and while I cannot solve your problems...I can at least get your mind off of them. “

The two walked off in the distance as Nick would spend the evening eating with John and Abigail. Nick wouldn't wake up from the nightmare till the next morning. Apparently nobody noticed he was asleep.


Tuesday, May 26, 2009

Jonathan Papelbon's biggest nightmare

This is a writeup I did for 'Sox and PinStripes' and probably the best one I wrote for them. It takes place over the Winter Break."


Boston Red Sox closer Jonathan Papelbon was a huge fan of Pete Rose, so when it came time for a hunting trip, Paps felt elated to have the all-time hit king join him in the woods of Maine with his twin brothers - and of course his famous dog that ate the ball that won the 2007 World Series. They met at Paps' house in Mississippi. Pete came in and immediately found himself showing Paps the prizes of a lifetime. As they sat on the couch, Pete described each one.

This is the bat that got me hit number 4,192 to break Ty Cobb's record. Nothing like it in the world. Priceless. I normally don’t ever bring it out but you were such a fan of me…well…hold it.”

Jon felt the hard ash bat and took a swing. As a reliever in the American League, he has forgotten to hit, and that was apparent from the hard bruise on Pete’s head after taking a swing…but Jon thought – history is made every day.

“OK Jon, this is the ball that I slugged for that hit. That my friend…is something that I cherish…so don’t throw it!

Pete then took a sigh and grabbed another ice pack.

“And of course…”

Jon held his breath as the jersey that was Pete Rose’s was held up to the light.

“That, Jon, was the exact jersey that I wore when I got 4,192. Those three things…are what I hold onto in my exile. It keeps me going Jon. Anything ever happened to them…I think I’d kill myself.”

Jon ignored Pete’s moaning and cursing and instead felt the history in his place. Suddenly baseball has an appeal that he never appreciated.

“OK…so why don’t we leave this stuff here and bring the dogs and go hunting…OK!”

Jon jumped from his seat.

“Jon”

It was the first time Pete yelled since getting slugged with a bat.

“Jon…I know you’re excited and all but…the dance…we can avoid that right?”

“Oh…ya…sure, “said Jon suspecting that Pete feared he might get hit in the head with a leg kick.

Anyway, the trip was fun, so much fun, that Pete Rose decided to stay another three days but Jon was tired and went back home. His large dog fell into the house and hit the sofa. Jon smiled.

“Now don’t you touch Mr. Rose’s stuff OK! Remember what you did to that baseball…but…oh, we all make mistakes. ”

The dog barked and Jon felt relieved.

“I’ll be in the shower if you need me.”

Jon left and climbed into the shower. He heard some growling in the background but ignored it. The warm water was so refreshing during the blustery cold of the January winter. He felt the tingle of warmth return to his hands. Hunting wasn’t fun. The deer were absent…perhaps it was Jon doing the dance and it ended up with just two days of frozen bodies -- but Pete loved it.

Jon got up and dried off. He put on his clothes and stretched his body. Tonight was popcorn and a movie. He walked to the living room. Jon looked around. Where was Pete’s stuff? Where was the priceless, irreplaceable stuff?

His dog barked…then Jon noticed the brown trail of dung that fell on the floor.

No!” shouted Jon. He ran over and saw Pete’s jersey. It was covered in poo and yellow stains.

“Boy…How you could do this! I told you after 2007 to never do that again and you promised me!”

We realize that it is intellectually impossible for a dog to make a promise like that but try to explain it to Jon.

Jon took a breath. He knew it just needed a wash…with lots of bleach. Ya…bleach would fix it all and give it a new shine.

“Oh crap…where’s his number?”

Jon then noticed the entire back of the jersey was torn to shreds and littered all over the living room.

The phone rang. Bad timing. This was not a good time. Jon ran to it.

“Hey Jon. You won’t believe it. Bud Selig called me on my cell phone. He says that he’d like to see my stuff. He’s flying down in two days. See you then!”

Jon stood there like a zombie. He stepped in some material and sprung his leg up.

“How do I...that’s wood. That’s…AHHHH

Jon limped into the kitchen from the splinter on his foot trying desperately to avoid the landmines of dung littering the floor via a large amount of hopping and ran to the kitchen to see Pete’s priceless bat shredded up with splinters of wood on the floor.

“Hot glue…just need some hot glue…oh no.”

Jon knew the situation. The ball. The ball that Pete valued so much…just like the ball he valued so much in the 2007 World Series.

“Where???”

Jon couldn’t describe the heart-stopping shock to his system. He was about to throw up but realized his dog had already done it…all over what was left of the baseball.

Washhot gluelots of glue. I can fix that ball…and I can Pete's name. I can fix the jersey…I can fix the bat. Ya…a grinder…that’s all I need…oh I am so dead!”

The phone rang.

“Hello.”

“Jon…you won’t believe it. Bud Selig said he’d reinstate me to baseball if I’d donate these supplies. Can you believe it! He’s planning a big ceremony. This is big! Isn’t that great!”

“Oh…that’s…just great.”

“Jon…my stuff’s OK right?”

“Oh…ya…everything is fine…ah…take some more days…weeks if you need too," said Jon while barely clinging to his sanity.

“Great…see you tomorrow. I’m coming home early. I got my life back!”

Jon hung up the phone. He circled the room and tried to capture some semblance of a plan.

“I can…I can sand the bat. Pete will never notice it. I’ll reshape it…and the ball – hot glue…and the jersey…I can sew…everything’s going to be fine. I just ruined Pete Rose’s life! Oh you dumb dog. ”

Jon sat down due to the fact his splintered foot was starting to swell.

Crap…gotta wash the couch too. OK. I can deal.”

Jon walked further getting splinters of wood in his feet trying to get to the washing machine before sliding on material and landing on his head.

Boy…don’t you dare lick me! I know where that mouth has been. Oh man…I’m Julio Lugo!”

Jon was a wreck. He hadn’t slept all night. It was a day later when Jon had completed his repairs. Jon was drenched in sweat. He had used two tubes of hot glue, sandpaper, a rasp, an orbiting sander, a new baseball, a sharpie, sewing needle, thread and a prayer book. The jersey looked like Frankenstein in drag, the ball was replaced with a new one with a rough signature of Pete Rose and the bat was sanded down and broke in half during the process…grinders are much tougher a tool to control than Jon realized. Duct tape and glue somehow felt all wrong including the pink paint job (it was the only color on hand) to hide it.

The phone rang.

“Hey Jon. Pete here. T.V crew coming over. Going to be a big event.”

“Ya, big event all right, “said Jon falling into disarray. He had never eaten so much food in his whole life.

“OK…talk to you in a minute.”

Jon sighed. He heard the crew roll up the driveway. ABC was there…but nobody else.

“I thought relief pitching was tough."

The door swung open and as promised, Bug Selig, Pete Rose and an ABC news crew setup in his house. On top of that there was Johnny Bench and Terry Francona. Jon felt lightheaded as if he had given up 35 runs to Bucky Dent.

“Oh…hey…hi!”

Pete smiled and hugged Jon. “Jon…you look awful. Been doing the C.C. Sabathia diet?”

“Oh…ya…that’s it all right.”

“I agree, you should get some sleep," said Bud Selig introducing himself. Jon felt Johnny’s hand.

“John…so glad to meet you. Big fan.”

“Oh…I’m sure you have strong feelings for me.”

Pete said, “OK…where’s my stuff?”

This was the moment all right. The moment where Jon felt his stomach collapse into his feet. There was his dog next to him…the blasted dog that had ruined his life.

“Oh…I put it away…to protect against the…ah…dog…ya.”

Pete sighed.

“Smart move Jon and here I was worried that your dog was gonna do something.”

“Oh…dog…good dog…ya…dog good. Well go get it!”

Pete had a smile on his face but Jon only felt shaking in his feet.

“Ya…I’m sure everyone will be really glad to see your stuff.”

“Jon…nothing happened to it…did it?”

Ohnoeverything is…just great.”

Jon then ran off. He could hear the cameras rolling out, the lights falling from the ceiling. ABC was going to hang Jon by the neck. Jon sighed and grabbed the bag. He walked back into the room.

Jon…open the bag. ABC is here!”

Jon saw the impatient stares.

“Well, we can all see it from here…and we don’t want it damaged or anything, “said Jon.

“No, I need to touch this material and feel it, “said Bud Selig. “I mean…this is history.”

“Ya…history a good word right now…ya…it’s history all right.”

Jon sat down and pulled the ball out of the bag. He hoped that would be enough. He nervously handed the ball to Selig.

“Pete Ross? Hey, Pete, I know you're not the brightest bulb on the tree, but can't you at least correctly spell your last name?"

“Oh crap…I’m dead!”

“Wow, “said Johnny. “Had no idea your jersey had so many stitches on it.”

Jon now felt a warm fluid drain from his entire body down to his toes.

“Jon…what happened to my bat, “screamed Pete Rose now boiling with Cincinnati red all over his face.

“Jon…did your dog…”

OK, “shouted Jon. He could take it no more.

“I tried…oh man I tried. I mean I tried hot glue and sewing and…oh man my dog did it all. Please Pete…I’m sorry.’

Jon never realized how many tears fell from his eyes at that moment. He felt the humiliation of the dog and right now wanted to crawl under a rock. Instead, he heard a busting of laughter from the entire troop. He looked up in dismay and confusion.

What’s so funny?”

“Jon, ‘said Pete. “Do you honestly think I’d give you the originals of these items but when Terry Francona came up with this…I couldn’t resist. You should have seen the look on your face!”

Jon got up and the tears filled with rage.

"This…was a joke!”

Totally, “said Johnny. “Now how bout some beer and a movie. “

Jon, who was never known for a good memory said, “Oh…ya…sounds good. TV.”

Tito sat down and said, “Joke’s not over yet Jon. The ball was the real deal.”

Jon felt blood drain from his face,

“Ok, just kidding. You know how we have fun on the team.”

Jon felt the jaw drag on the ground and said, “ya…real funny. Oh Jon can take it. He’s tough. Ya…Jon can take it.”

It was just then that Jon stepped in yet another pile of manure. The laughs poured out from the room. Another day in the life of Jonathan Papelbon.


Sunday, May 24, 2009

Nightmare Series - 7

Tito Meets a Legend

"This is a real treat for me. I've read a ton of material on this person and this makes for a detailed look at the legend we meet in this article.


If anyone was known as the quiet shadow of the Red Sox perhaps it would be Terry Francona. He was dedicated, calm, sometimes sanguine, but mostly reserved. He sat at his desk. David wasn't hitting. Lugo was there. David wasn't hitting. Santana beat us. Dice-K got shelled. Pressure is intense. Always pressure. He could love the game but hate the moment.

He leaned back against the rocky chair. It was late. Where was his family? Where was his daughter? Where was his family? It was all about the game. It always was.

He sighed and closed his eyes. He felt sleep calm his spirits down. He felt relaxed.

The piano woke his eyes up. It was loud and the clubhouse was far from this place. It was a long a beautiful prairie with a piano resting against the grasses. Tito was sitting down on the grass. Tito felt his hands to ensure they were still connected to his wrists.

“Tito Francona, it's about time. Come on over!”

She was short, a bit stout and rather ordinary looking, but there was nothing ordinary about this woman. He recognized her immediately.

“You play?”

Tito nodded.

“Well you should take it up. I never get tired of playing the piano or singing or seeing the world around me. Damn, I'm living Tito!”

Terry nodded in compliance and tapped a note.

“Don't be afraid. Make it sing. Oh to hear and see...I never grow tired of it.”

She got up and ran along the prairie.

“Come on Tito....the day is young.”

Tito sighed and ran as hard as he could but couldn't catch up to the lady who then fell on the ground. The grasses were tall and almost covered her but she didn't care. Tito stopped and fell down next to her.

“I tell you Tito...I love it here. “

Tito., struggling for breath, knelt down next to her as she propped herself up and smiled.

“Come on!”

She was unstoppable. She was in incredible shape and as they crossed the prairie grasses he saw the breathless ocean and couldn't believe the strange landscape. The lady ran down the sand dunes and fell into the warm ocean water.

“Come on...it feels great!”

Tito fell on the sand and sucked in air. The lady came back from the ocean water and sat next to him.

“Oh...you have not lived until you fall into ocean water and taste the salty air. I always loved the water but to see it, to hear it. It's God talking to us!“

Tito leaned back against the sand. She moved out of the water. Her black dress was soaked. She couldn't have been more than twenty but she was a lot older than that. She sat down beside him and starred at the ocean wind.

“Life's too short Tito. ”

Tito touched her hand.

Careful Tito....I may start to enjoy this!”

Tito forced a laugh.

“Oh...to be free...to not have to watch every word I say and to not be blind and deaf and so damn lonely. Oh Tito...it's true freedom. Did you know I graduated from Radcliffe college. Did you know that hardly anyone attended my ceremony? Course the press made it seem like I was elected President. My own mother was too sick to attend. That was hard. “

Tito looked away.

“I spend too much time away from home.”

Helen held his hand.

“You know, I had to fight so hard to get into that damn college and to fight even harder to stay. Annie and I would be up till 12:00 am in the morning just about every night as Annie finger spelled every single line of text into my hand. There were no Braille textbooks back then. Oh how computers would have made that so unnecessary.”

Tito leaned forward and said, “So you found your happiness hero?”

Helen pulled his face into view.

Hero?, “sighed Helen leaning back and munching on potato chips. “I just wanted a life. I only did the public speaking to earn money. Annie and I were poor Tito and nobody wanted to hear anything but about Helen Keller by the well. I didn't die after I said 'water' “

A large smile grew on her face. Tito knew the moment. The moment in the play. It was true though. Everyone thinks Helen's life ended when she said water by the well. In truth it was only beginning.

But...the great part about my life was I did get to be friends with Mark Twain, Alexander Graham Bell, oh the list goes on and that was nice but I loved Mark. He had a wicked sense of humor. Oh when he died, a part of me died with him. ”

Helen threw a chip at a waiting seagull who carried it away.

“Having Annie sign everything into my hand is not the same as hearing his voice and laughing at his jokes and then Annie died. Oh listen to me!“

Tito turned towards Helen and said, “Helen Keller...of all the people I know, I never thought you would be the one to feel sorry for yourself.”

Helen laughed and tossed the bag of chips at Tito.

Hmmm...I remember at one meeting, Annie and I arrived at the city and a crowd of people poured over us. I wanted to go to the hotel room. I was tired. They didn't have plane flights back then. Oh how the press tore into me that next day. Evil Helen Keller needs sleep – the nerve of her!

Now...is that better!”

Helen laughed at her own joke and got up sitting on the sand.

“When you become that brave and heroic figure, everyone forgets you're human. Why when I was around, blind people and deaf people were the burden of the state. When I came along...oh Helen must have the best sense of touch in the world...oh how brave Helen is...how wonderful she is...but let Helen give an opinion about civil rights or about politics and oh...Helen...they're manipulating you. Certainly a sweet deaf and blind person like yourself can't have an opinion of your own. That's not right!”

Helen laughed and grabbed some watermelon.

“Why'd you want to meet me anyway Tito.?”

Terry Sighed. He looked at the ocean water.

“I'm tired Helen. The pressure is getting to me. The demands are getting to me. I guess..I wanted a sympathetic ear. “

Helen smiled and said, “if I were alive today...with all this media...oh, they wouldn't be making friends with me...but you have something that I never had Tito...and I envy everyone who has it. God put me on this earth for a reason and I fulfilled his wishes but having sight and sound changed me. I guess I began to have envy. Does that make me horrible?”

Tito held her hand.

“I give my heart and soul for a ball team while I abandon my family. Does that make me evil?”

She smiled with a tear welting in her eye.

“I suppose no more evil than me. Oh how I wanted a family, children, a husband to care about me...I wanted a life where I didn't have to depend on someone always being around me. I once said that every struggle is a victory...but sometimes I think that getting sight and hearing is a curse. It made me realize what I lost.”

Tito held her hand and said, 'but look at what you accomplished. You helped start the ACLU, brought the blind into the sunlight, standardized raised print to one system – Braille. You helped to start the Lions club on their crusade for the blind...those are things that you should be very proud of.

Helen chuckled.

“Nobody even knows about my political views – oh, can't talk about that. Might smear my name. Helen Keller the socialist...but all I ever wanted was unions and the common man's voice. That doesn't make me evil. “

Tito said nothing to that but starred at the passion in her face.

“Oh...did you know the FBI had a file on me...on ME!”

Tito nodded and said, “so what. They followed Martin Luthor King around. Come on Helen...what's really bugging you?”

Helen looked with tears draining from her face.

“I want to live again Tito. I want to be part of life and see it and feel it. I want to be part of this planet. “

She turned towards Tito.

Stay with me for a while. We can talk about baseball.”

Tito nodded and fell against the sand.

I really have to get back Helen.”

Helen grunted and threw a stone at the ocean water.

Call your daughter Tito. Love her with everything you have. Never let the game get in the way because one day you'll be on a field with nobody watching you.

Tito leaned forward.

“I'm sorry...I really am.”

“The life you live Tito is a precious, wonderful gift. Please...don't lose that. I lived a long and wonderful life and even when I feel sorry for myself, I realize that. “

Helen wiped the tears off her face.

“However...if you would just hold my hand and watch the seagulls...that would mean everything to me. “

Tito smiled and leaned back. Helen fell against the sand and starred at the clouds.

“Thank you.”

Tito smiled and kissed her on the cheek.

Watch me at the game tonight. “

She gave a thumbs up.

Tito yawned and saw the crew starring at him.

What?”

David leaned down and said, “never seen you smile so much!”

Dustin just nodded.

Tim Wakefield looked confused.

Hey...life's short right!”

Everyone just stood in awe as Tito got up and walked away singing a song.

Love ya guys but I gotta call my daughter!”

Tito chuckled as he heard David Ortiz say, “man...he never calls his daughter before a game. “

Then everyone nodded and said, “he had a dream.”

Tito fell into his office chair and picked up the phone. He dialed the number but put the phone back on the receiver. He looked over at the photo on the wall. He then looked at the paperwork on his desk.

Oh Helen you always could see better than anyone even without your eyes!”

Tito pulled the paperwork aside and picked up the phone. Baseball wasn't a life. The phone rang. The machine answered. Tito grieved.


Saturday, May 23, 2009

Just a short hello

Believe it or NOT, this is NOT a story. Instead it's an invite to post comments. I'd love to hear from you. We are a fairly new blog with an eccentric audience -- The Red Sox but we invite anyone and anyone to comment and say hello so don't be afraid!
No new stories till Monday. I have a wedding to go to this weekend.

Friday, May 22, 2009

Nightmare Series - 6

The Dream

"This is a serious piece. It's something I wanted to write for a long time and let it stew in my head until I finally wrote it down on paper!"

David Ortiz fell into a deep sleep. He was exhausted. He found himself strolling down a narrow hallway hearing the puttering of music in the background. Nobody seemed to be around the gray musty walkway but the music was loud enough to attract attention. David strolled a bit further and opened the last door at the end of the hall. The room that was exposed was bright and lively with a grand piano in the center. The room was bright pastel. Pictures surrounded the oval room of the great musicians of the past. The floors were white ash, the same material as the old baseball bats and the man doing the music, dressed in a tuxedo nodded politely for David to sit down in one of the audience seats. It was a strange audience. Nobody else was there. The silk tablecloths on the small round tables and the black chairs made the place fell all the more special and all the more out of place. It didn't feel like modern times but then again the man peddling the music seemed all the more endearing in such a setting.

What do you think Papi? “ smiled the man at the piano.

I think if you were off key, I'd say you were a master.”

The man laughed and dismissed the comment.

I'm not that good, but I like it. “

David walked up to the piano resting his hands against the wood.

Of all the people...”

You never thought you'd meet me...well, David...I promise you that I'm only human.”

David laughed. This was his inspiration, his idol, a man knew so little about.

I liked your home run David...nicely done. Oh but to have the fans cheer for me like they did for you ...and in Boston. The irony of it all! Damn, I missed out!”

David laughed. He sipped a glass of water left on the piano.

So what's it like up here anyway?”
“Here, “chuckled the man. “David...
too much time on my hand. Oh I paint, I read, I play music...finally read Les Miserables and Oliver Twist. I seem to like the happy stuff!“

The man laughed at his own joke.

You are Jean Valjean, “said David with affection.

David, “said the man. “you want to know who I am...I'm a man who did his best in life and that's the way I want you to see me. Nothing more...nothing less.”

You opened the game up for so many people. You never stopped changing the world. “

The man twiddled the piano keys and played a lively rhythmic melody.

David...let's not talk about the past. “

I couldn't have done it.”

The keys stopped. The man slammed his fists on the piano. He held his temper in.

I'm sorry...every time somebody meets me. I'm not a legend David. I'm just a man.”

David sighed and sat next to him against the ivory and ebony of the piano keys.

I'm sorry...I didn't mean...”

The soft voice of David seemed to calm the man down, He twiddled the keys and got up from the piano reaching for a drink of water.

I look back at it all...I don't know. Some days were just so damn hard. It wore me out you know. Now all they do is honor me. I see Jackie Robinson days and Jackie Robinson this and Jackie Robinson that...where was that when I was alive...when I could appreciate it and I could get some of what they took from me back. “

For the first time David saw emotion welt on his face.

“Sorry David. I know what I did...just sometimes...sometimes it eats at you. Always having to be proper and mannered and honest and straight. Never allowing yourself to feel anger. I didn't want to be a...legend David. I just wanted to play the game.”

Heroes...they ain't born Jackie, they're made.”

Jackie felt the wood of the piano and looked around the room.

Hank Aaron...broke Babe Ruth's record. Everybody knows that...and all he could say was he was glad it was over. They took it away from him David. ”

David leaned down and struck the keys of the piano tossing out a simple melody. That caught Jackie's attention. He smiled.

Oh...you have shown me something David...”
“What's that, “smiled David.

That you are one lousy piano player!”

David laughed, got up, and slapped Jackie on the back.

All my life...I wanted to live up to your standards. You're a hero to so many people Jackie. Nobody will take that away from you!”

Jackie sipped the last of his water.

“You know what. I'm honored to know you David Ortiz...but let me remind you that in the end...when all is said and done, you have to learn to live inside your own body and your own frame of mind and decide what you gave to this world and what you gave to yourself. “

David grabbed more water from the tray.

What have I done?”

Jackie leaned forward and said, “you took the city of Boston...which tore me apart in tryouts and now they cheer you on when you struggle. You made them all watch you David. You have white people wearing your jersey and you carry the team and you want to know what you've done! David, you're smarter than that!“

David said nothing feeling the lightness of the room.

I don't know what to say!”

Jackie leaned forward and said, “say anything you want, but if all you care about is hitting then you're missing out on the larger picture...legend!”

David waved him off and walked back to the table. He sat his head down on the cloth.

Hey...join me in a duet. I play, you sing...you can sing? Pick the song!”

David nodded his head and pondered the idea. A melody came in his head.

How about...Come Fly With Me...”

Frank Sinatra...that bastard! Forget it!

David laughed.

“Come on why not! Let's do it...for the great Jackie Robinson!”

Jackie laughed and said, “ok...for the great David Ortiz!”

Jackie tipped his head and started playing as David sang the very familiar lyrics of “Come Fly With Me, Come Fly Away Today...” in a scratchy baritone voice all the more charming with Jackie's playing. The air grew light with song as the sound blasted through the room.

Not bad David...I like it!, “laughed Jackie.

David nodded back. The horns came in and then a full orchestra appeared right in back of Jackie Robinson.

“what's a great song without an orchestra, “laughed Jackie.

Now David belted out the song growing more confident by the moment.

David!”

David!”

“David!!!!”

David looked over and saw Terry Francona starring down at him. He was back in the dugout. The game was in progress. He looked around to ensure the dream was over!

You OK?”
David smiled.

Oh man Tito, couldn't you have waited a few more moments. I was hitting my stride!”

Tito smiled.

“Well...you were pretty good actually, “said Tito who gave a sincere smile who then snarled and said, “now get up there and hit!”

David laughed, walked over and picked up the bat. He heard “Come Fly With Me' playing at the park. It was all a dream but as he heard the crowds and starred into the eyes of everyone cheering him on, he understood the words of a man...a great man, and his piano.


Thursday, May 21, 2009

Nightmare Series - 5

Youk, Youk, Youk

"Who doesn't love Kevin Youkilis. This is a tribute to this great player and was a lot of fun to write. It's part of my nightmare series."


Kevin's return was marred by the fact that he wondered what that meant. Would he be his old self again? Would he find his groove? That would have to wait as he found himself in a small and dusty home littered with cobwebs and artifacts. All that was heard was the pounding of piano keys. Keven had to find out what the noise was and walked on through the hallways until he found what he was looking for. A man was lying on the floor hammering at the piano with an almost maddening determination generating sounds that would tear the soul of any good man.

“Will you stop that!” screamed Youk but the man persevered banging keys as if they were hammers, spitting curses into the air and writing down each and every note that seemed to satisfy him.

“I said, “shouted Youk. “Will you stop that racket!”

The man, caught off guard, turned towards Kevin and starred at his eyes.

“Do you mind?”

“It's my nightmare...now will please stop the pounding!”

The man threw the paper aside.

“Oh what's the use anyway. A man without ears is a man without heart.”

The man sulked and starred at the piano. He moved up and stood erect nodding politely to Kevin.

Ludwig...at your service.”

Kevin nodded well aware of the gift his dream had given him.

“So my strangely garbed fellow...what sort of profession do you practice?”

“Baseball...”

Ludwig wiped off his eyeglasses.

“Baseball...the vulgar profession of the obtuse. I expected better from a man of your considerable musical talents.”

“Are you always this rude...and I'm musically talented?”

The man smirked grabbing a glass of water and sipping it.

“Part of my charm...and no you don't but I'd thought I'd make you feel better, “smiled the man.

Kevin sat down next to the piano.

“I take it you're still deaf?”

“Oh not at all. The fact is that this is where I wrote my best music. Frankly old habits die hard...as does my talent. I have been unable to write anything worthwhile in hundreds of years time. Another failure int the shadow of Mozart...that bestial arrogant twit!”

Kevin smiled.

You're an original.”

Beetoven sat down.

“The Beatles, Garbage, Elton John...but where is the music I wrote...stuck with pompous idiots who can't appreciate the gifts of music. Oh what a world you live in. No taste, no music, no art, just refined junk food. I died at the right time.”

Kevin gritted his teeth.

“Don't you have anything nice to say about...anyone?”

Beetoven smirked and said, “and be out of character. Hardly worth my time. “

“So why am I here anyway?”
Beetoven pulled the sheet of music out of the garbage pile.

“Your nightmare, you tell me.”

Beethoven then crumbled it up again and tossed it back in the garbage.

“No joy is felt when you write music that nobody will hear. Oh my renaissance man...there is so much out there beyond 'The Fast and the Furious' and that other rubbish of your time...although I must profess a certain fondness for House. Dr. House is someone that I can connect with. He makes me laugh.”

Kevin nodded in compliance.

“Baseball is a great game Beethoven...”

“Inundated with media, advertisement, terrible food, horrific bread and circus cinema. No, your game is beyond repair. I find it something that only an idiot like Mozart would enjoy.”

“I just want to play the game well and make a good living at it. Everyone calling me “Youk, Youk...kind of weird. I'm just not that good.”

Beethoven sat down next to Kevin.

“Let me tell you something Mr...Youkilis. I am not that good. It takes me ages to write a symphony. I'm an exceptional piano player but I am not that great a writer. You my friend, are as close to a musician on the field of play that I have ever seen.”

Kevin laughed almost falling out of the chair.

You've watched the game?”

“Of course, “said Beethoven. “Eternity offers the gift of time.”

Youk nodded in compliance.

“So what's your advice?”

“Remember that in the end, your role in the game will be forgotten as will you. Nothing is remembered. Oh some may know of my ninth...Lord knows it's been commercialized enough, but to really know the man...no that is long gone, so play the game, if that is what you want and enjoy your life. Kicking helmets around and throwing your bat offers little reward.”

“I do have a temper...but that's why I'm so good at the game.”

'You're good at the game because of your abilities, not because of your temper. Take it from me, a temper never gets music written.”

Kevin bit his lip.

“Then what's the secret...how do you cope with it all?”

Beethoven got up and stretched his legs.

“In your age...I have no idea. I certainly wouldn't want to play on a team where you are so loved and hated based on your batting average. No Kevin...but I do wish for more life again...oh to smell a tree or to touch a woman...”

Kevin moved his finger but before he got an answer Beethoven said, “not in your life. Some secrets are worth keeping.”

“But...”

“No butts, “smirked Ludwig. “If I wanted the world to know who the woman was, I would have made an ad and posted it all over town. Oh your Americans and your love of gossip. I supposed you'd want to know her breast size as well!”

Kevin nodded and picked up a sandwich.

Well...”

Beethoven laughed.

“I have never seen you more relaxed. You and I are of the same mind Kevin...we both obsess about our work. You entertain...I enlighten. Both of which I suppose have their merits.”

Beethoven touched his fingers against the wall playing a piano melody.

“Say whatever happened to that Jason Gabbard fellow!”

“It's KASON...God...this isn't even funny anymore. It's like a joke that's been beaten to death...but NO...it just keeps right on rolling along like a steam roller. God...”

Kevin and Ludwig just starred at the man tearing his uniform off and walking out of the room.

“I like him Kevin!” said Ludwig.

“Ya...I can see that.”

Kevin got up

“Ah...time for the game.'

“I'll be in the third row cheering for you Kevin...I think Youk...Youk...Youk...”

Kevin laughed and said, “right!

“Be well Kevin. You don't want to die and be stuck in a batting cage for the rest of eternity. Go out and live a little too!”

Kevin smiled and said, “or stuck to a piano!”

“That my friend is a misnomer...but that again is something history will never know about...and by the way it's 44 of D.”

“No way, “laughed Kevin.

“I'm afraid Kevin...such things are best kept secret.”

Kevin nodded and walked off. He saw his eyes open up to witness his body holding a bat in his hands. The crowd was cheering, Youk, Youk, Youk as the umpire walked over to Kevin.

“Hey Kevin...you OK?”
“Hu...oh ya...no problem. Just keep thinking about 44 of D...” But before the umpire could say anything Kevin pulled his hand up and said, “Don't ask!”

Kevin walked up to the batters box feeling relaxed and excited. This was baseball at its best.