The Bullpen Gospels - Dirk Hayhurst [87]
“I’m good, buddy. Good to see you.”
“Yeah, you too. Everything feeling okay? Your arm good? No issues?”
“No, everything is fine, pal. I feel good. Happy to be back up here.”
“Do you have your folder?”
I fished out my team medical history folder and handed it over to Eddie. He flipped through it casually. I’m not sure what trainers look for. I can’t read those things anyway.
“I have travel money for you. I’m sure you’ll want that,” he said, looking up at me again.
“Oh heck, yes! That’s why you’re my favorite person here, Eddie. We’ve only just said hello, and you’re giving me money.”
Eddie produced a sign-in sheet containing printed names and their correlating signatures for each player currently on the team. My name was not on the sheet, so Eddie wrote it in for me and I signed. He handed me a bank envelope with a few twenties inside. It’s the minor league equivalent of passing Go.
Chapter Twenty-eight
My new, yet old, teammates started filtering into the park around 2:30 in the afternoon. I had good reunions with the guys I knew. The guys I didn’t know walked up and shook my hand and said their names with a cordial smile. I said mine in the same fashion. It was all standard operating procedure.
Real introductions don’t happen here. I may be on the team on paper, but I’m not part of the team until everyone feels comfortable with me. That takes time. It’s kind of like being one of those people who document the behaviors of gorillas in the wild. You have to give the gorillas time to get acclimated to you, or they may tear your legs off and beat you with them.
It’s tough to be the new gorilla even if you’ve played with a lot of the guys before. It was easy coming together with the Lake Elsinore team because we all started together. This squad had already gone through its formative period, and I’d have to ease in. The Lake Elsinore team was also younger than this squad, more immature and inexperienced, which gave me an instant leadership position. Here I was just another reliever. With a guy like Randy at the helm, it could be assumed this Double-A squad was also more rigorous and professional. Only time would tell, but I thought it best to act a tad more professional until I had a better read on things, which didn’t take long to get.
While I finished trying on my new Missions jersey, I watched the team interact. The Latin players huddled together, speaking in hurried Spanish tones. A few position players sparked a card game and sat at the clubhouse’s lone table arguing over the amount of plucks to go for. Others sat at their lockers punching keys on their cell phones while the rest stared up at a lone television screen watching ESPN commentators argue over the relevance of today’s sports headlines. I pulled my pants up.
When I hitched up the waistline of my new pants, the cuffs of the legs came up as well, way up. The scrunched elastic foot holes sat inches above my ankles, around my shins, Greg Maddux style. I thought I picked out a longer pair. I took the pair off, checked the label—36 inches—and scratched my head, Then as if something could have magically changed by my reading of the dimensions, I put the pants back on again—still too short.
“They’re all that way,” Drew Macias said. Our first reunion in Double-A happened almost exactly like it did in spring training—me putting pants on. He had made this team out of camp and was happy to see me back on it. He walked over to my locker, watching me fumble around in my new uniform.
“What do you mean? These should be a good four inches longer.”
“First, good to see you again. Second, the pants should be, but they’re not. Grady made the Missions alter all our pants.” He rolled his eyes when he said it and made a cuckoo gesture.
“Good to see you too, buddy, but wait,” I said, eyebrows furrowed in disgust, “all our pants will look like this on me?” I pulled down one of the pant legs, which sprang back up when I let go. I jerked it down again, then tried to go through my delivery. When I kicked, my pants crawled back up my shin, again. Finally,