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The Titans, the Falcons, Lars, Eric, so much of Mayfield baseball, has hit bottom. But maybe there is a ray of hope. There is a boy who keeps stepping up his leadership skills. In this chapter he swallows some pride and stares down a powerful and determined adult.
Comments are welcome at thehakaanen@hotmail.com
Douglas
CHAPTER 29 SCRAPING BOTTOM-Falcons Summer Team Edition
<Monday, May 25>
After losing both of their games on Saturday, the Falcons had another game scheduled for Monday, Memorial Day. It was at home against a team from Vancouver, Washington.
Once again the Falcons didn't play well, making four errors in the field and not exhibiting much discipline at the plate. Rich, Rodney, and Jerome all pitched, but only Rich seemed to be able to concentrate consistently. Rodney, who was the best pitcher on the team, often looked like he wasn't interested, and Jerome, although he tried hard, simply wasn't a very good pitcher. Hunter and Kraig each got some pitching in as well, but they looked overmatched. The result was a lopsided 14-2 loss. Because it was a non-league game and both coaches wanted to play all of their players as much as possible, they had agreed ahead of time to forgo the 10-run mercy rule, so the game went the full seven innings, even though the Falcons were down 11-1 after five. The last two innings were played with the coaches doing the umpiring since the game had officially ended after five innings.
After the game, Coach Miller gave them the usual platitudes about working hard, coming together as a team, and taking pride. He also noted to himself that about half the team seemed to have him tuned out. There was no question in anybody's mind that, at least as far as the Falcons were concerned, baseball in Mayfield was scraping bottom.
"Why is it that nobody seems to care?" Eric asked as he and Noah sat in Eric's living room with his dad. "We were all full of fire and energy and were doing things and building the Go to State Team, so it's not like nobody ever cared before."
"Oh, I think your teammates care," Eric's dad said. "But it's been a hard few months. A lot of things have happened that have discouraged enough people to let it weigh down the team. Some people have responded better to the events in their lives than others." He looked at Noah when he said that, meaning it as a compliment to how Noah had been handling the loss of his best friend. Noah nodded in silent acknowledgement.
"But nothing I do works," Eric said.
"Part of that is that you're as discouraged as the others. There was no spark on that team this afternoon. No cheering or chatter from the dugout. No chatter from the field. You were a group of boys going through the motions. You all look like you've lost sight of your goal."
"Then how do I get it back?"
"You start by no longer saying I'', his father said. "You just told me, Nothing I do works, followed by, how do I get it back?'. It's time for both of you to start saying we'. The whole problem with your team is that the word I' has become your most important word, and you're playing like it."
"I think we start with an email about the carwash next weekend," Noah said, "plus a follow-up text. And we start talking about WE."
"Then I guess we better go upstairs to my computer and write it," Eric said. That was what the two boys spent the next hour doing. Eric wrote about how important it was for everyone to be at the carwash. He reminded the Falcon players that this was a team thing which would help get them pointed towards a great summer season. After both boys agreed with what they had written, Eric clicked send.
"Now, if I could just believe what we wrote," he said to Noah. Noah's answer was to stick his hand inside Eric's sweats and get his flaccid teen cock into a state of tumescence. It wasn't long until they were naked on Eric's bed, each with a cock in his mouth, taking care of the hormonal needs of young adolescence.
<Tuesday, May 26>
Any person, group, team, or organization hits a low point. Some lows are lower than others. Sometimes that low can be destructive, and sometimes it can be a place upon which to build. The response to that low point can say a lot about that person, group, or organization. For the Falcons and the Go to State Team, Tuesday was the starting point of the path that would determine if the group would recover and grow, or if it would fall apart. At the moment, they were sending the message to many of the citizens of Mayfield that they were right when they said adolescent boys could not be expected to operate a successful organization. But some things happened that Tuesday which gave a hint as to the team's future, even if nobody put the pieces together right then.
The biggest happenings of the day involved Lars's father, Neil Anderson, PhD. That morning he had a meeting scheduled with the chair and vice chair of the Rainbow Coalition, the gay organization on campus. While Neil Anderson didn't approve of gays or the gay lifestyle, he knew that working with them was part of his job and he took it seriously. Also, Troy and Alicia were both nice kids and he enjoyed talking with them. They discussed the Rainbow Coalition sponsoring booths in the Student Union lounge. Dr. Anderson laid down some ground rules, the three of them negotiated some other rules, and the meeting broke up amicably.
Troy lingered a moment after Alicia left. "Thanks again for your help and understanding, Doctor Anderson. It means a lot to us to have the Dean of the school willing to listen to us and work with us." He looked at the pictures on Neil's desk. "Nice looking family."
"Thanks. I'm proud of them." He didn't say the words `except for my older son', but he thought them.
"Your oldest son, he looks like he's maybe twelve or thirteen."
"He's my older son," the former English professor corrected. "He was thirteen in the picture; he's fourteen now. He looks young for his age, although he is pretty tall and lanky. He's in that `all legs' stage of development."
"He's lucky to have a dad like you," Troy said. "I was fourteen when I came out to my family. That was six years ago. It was the last time my dad and I ever talked to each other, except when we had to. He didn't kick me out, but I know he wanted to. If it wasn't for my mother I don't know what I would have done. I decided to do my first two years of school here instead of Seattle, just to get away from him. I mean I would have to leave anyway once I hit eighteen."
"I'm sorry to hear about that," Neil Anderson said sincerely, ignoring Troy's grammatical faux pas. At the moment his mind was in denial and he failed to see the parallels between Troy and Lars.
"Yeah, we used to do a lot of stuff together. Play catch, go to games, go to concerts, work on his motorcycle, stuff like that. He was a pretty good dad. Then I say I'm gay and it's like I got horns on my head or something. I know you'd never treat your kid like that. I mean if my dad just let me be me, it would have been cool, but I had to be what he thought I was." Troy blushed and looked down at the floor. "Sorry Doctor Anderson, I didn't mean to waste your time with my life history."
"Not a problem, Troy. I'm pleased you trusted me enough to say that. Good luck with your Gay Pride Day booths. I'll be sure to come by and take a look. We're a small branch campus in a small town, but it's important we understand what diversity is all about."
After Troy left, Neil Anderson thought about what Troy had to say. He seemed to express disappointment and hurt more than anger. Neil had been impressed by how the young student had presented himself.
Neil looked at the picture that had attracted Troy's attention. He looked at Lars, his blond hair gleaming, his smile making his entire face glow with happiness. He hasn't smiled like that in weeks, Neil thought, as Troy's words started to sink in. Am I the same as Troy's father? Or am I worse? Am I selfish because I don't want the world to know I am the father of a gay son? I sit here at my desk and tell the dozen or so gays on campus I support them, but I can't give my support to my own son? He looked at the clock on his wall and at the calendar on his desk. He had no appointments scheduled. He grabbed his hat, walked out into the outer office and told his secretary he was leaving for the afternoon.
Instead of heading west on Highway 12 for Mayfield, he headed east towards Clark Pass. Lars was playing his last game of the spring there. Neil Anderson had not planned to go, but what Troy had to say about his own father had an effect. Since he had no appointments he decided to watch his son play. His issue, after all, was with his son saying he was gay, not with his son himself. He thought that maybe if he made an appearance at the game, Lars would forgive him for his stand on not playing summer ball or attending Mayfield High School next year. Neil was hoping that the surprise appearance would show Lars that he cared.
As he drove the winding highway up to the pass, he thought about his last argument with his son. Lars had come into his den and set some forms on his desk. Neil asked him what the forms were for.
"They're for summer baseball," Lars said. "I was hoping maybe you'd change your mind and sign them so I could play...please."
"Lars, I told you that I was not going to allow you to play with those boys. I let you play school baseball because I knew you'd be closely supervised." Neil would have thought much differently if he'd known about the seventh grade boner rallies. "You will have far too much unsupervised time with them when summer comes, and I will not allow that."
"But they're my friends. You won't let me see any of my friends. You won't let me do anything." The politeness Lars had exhibited, which was the behavior his father had always seen from his son, was disappearing quickly as Lars's resentments against his father seemed to bubble constantly. "Why can't you sign them? You're always spying on me anyway, so how am I going to get away with anything?"
Neil Anderson picked up the forms, pointedly tore them in half, and dropped them into his wastebasket. "That should end the discussion."
"I hate you! I will always hate you!" Once again, Lars raged out of the room, an act that had become all too common.
As he drove up towards the pass, Neil wondered how he could get Lars to understand that the issue wasn't baseball, it was his friends and the bad influence they were having on him and his behavior. He needed Lars to understand that having a gay in the family did nor reflect well on them or on him. Maybe my surprise visit to the game will help, Neil thought. And maybe a trip together this summer will ease the pain of not playing ball.
Neil arrived just before the first pitch. He would have been surprised had he known that his son's reaction was not one of happy surprise, but rather one of anger.
"Guess who just showed up to spy on me?" Lars asked Kevin, hoping his father would notice who it was he was talking to.
[MARTY]
I couldn't believe that Mr. B wanted me to go to the middle school game with him. He wrote an excuse to get me out of school early and everything. He's my guardian now and can sign stuff like that. My dad doesn't give a shit and my mom is hard to find, what with her working weird hours. I still go to see mom and my brother John because I love them, but first I always make sure that the asshole who lives there isn't home.
Mr. B gave his staff the day off so they could get a four day weekend. They should try that at school, too; I sure wouldn't complain. He does that a lot if he doesn't have to be in court before a three-day weekend. He's a pretty cool guy, and as far as I'm concerned he's my dad.
"Hey, Sparky," I said when I got into the car. "Thanks for taking me. This will be cool."
"Hi, Marty. I thought you'd like seeing your buddies play their last ever middle school game."
"Well, you were right as usual."
During the forty-five minute drive to Clark Pass we talked about school, baseball, sobriety, and the goings on of Hurricane Jeffrey. I told him the problems we were having keeping everybody interested in the whole Go to State thing.
"It looks like the initial enthusiasm has given way to teen burnout," Mr. B. said. "What looked like a lot of fun has turned into work, which starts to become drudgery. Plus, you have a lot of individual jealousies and issues dividing some of your teammates."
"That's not how it is with me, or Eric, or Rich, or Noah, or Kevin..."
"I didn't mean that everybody has thrown in the towel. But enough seem to have lost interest to make your group become almost irrelevant. It's not uncommon, even among adults."
We talked about the upcoming carwash. I told Mr. B. what me and Eric had planned beyond sending out the emails and texts. There was also going to be phone calls and a personal invitation to each member of the group; or at least to each person we thought was a member of the group.
"It sounds like you have things under control. You're showing yourself to be quite a leader."
"Oh, hell no. I'm just the chair guy, Eric is the real leader."
We arrived at the Clark Pass Middle School field a few minutes before the game was supposed to start. I noticed Lars's dad arrive and walk up into the bleachers. Me and Mr. B were sitting in lawn chairs just beyond the left field fence. I'd told Mr. B about the problems with Lars and how they had been affecting the group and Mr. B said he wished somebody could talk sense into his father. He was going to lose himself a son, who was a really good kid.
The Titans grabbed a quick 3-0 lead on a three-run homer by Carl in the top of the first. Damn, but Carl could rake. It was 5-0 by the bottom of the fourth. I saw Coach Miller arrive and I got an idea. "I'll be back in a bit," I told Sparky.
I sat next to Coach Miller in the bleachers and talked some general kinds of shit with him for a couple of minutes. I asked the coach if he had any of the paperwork packets for the summer team.
"Marty, I know you turned yours in or you wouldn't have even been out on the field the last couple of days."
I told him that the paperwork wasn't for me. Coach Miller said he may have an extra copy in his briefcase in the trunk of his car. We went to his car and he found a couple of packets. I took the papers and climbed back onto the bleachers. I took a deep breath and sat next to Neil Anderson.
"Hello, Mr. Anderson."
"Well, hello Marty. To what do I owe the privilege of a visit?"
"I don't know if it's much of a privilege, but I wanted to talk to you about something."
"I've heard pretty impressive things about you. People say you're a young man who has accomplished quite a lot."
I said nothing about that. I didn't want the conversation to be about me. Instead I put the packet of forms on his lap.
"Why are you giving me these?"
"I heard the ones Lars got were accidently thrown away." I could tell that the man next to me was getting a little pissed, but I took a deep breath and kept on going. "Okay, look, I'm not trying to tell you what to do with Lars, even if I think it's wrong and unfair."
"Maybe you should go back down and sit with your dad." I could tell he was now officially pissed.
"He isn't my dad, although I wish he was. I'll go, but first you gotta know why I'm with him and not my dad."
"I'm really not interested in your personal problems, Marty."
I could see why Lars was in such a funk. His dad had a serious problem listening to all kids, not just his own kid. I wondered if he thought he was too smart for us or something. But I ignored what he was saying and kept going. I figured if anybody was going to get up and leave right now it was going to be him and not me. I would leave when I was ready to leave.
"I'll make this short. I'm gay." I almost said I'm gay just like Lars, but I caught myself. That would've been a totally dumb thing to say. "I came out to my father and he kicked my ass out of the house. My father treats me like shit, like I'm a nobody. We haven't talked since he kicked me out and I have to work not to hate him.
"I live with Mr. B and his family now. He's my guardian and he's my dad as far as I'm concerned. I love him because he accepts me and loves me. Lars wants to run away because you won't love him for what he is. He tells us how much he hates you." I wasn't going to go this far, but I figured fuck it, I'll go all in and see what happens. "It's not right for him to hate you like that. He's a really great kid and he always thought you were a great dad. There's nothing wrong with being gay and that's all I have to say and thanks for listening."
I got up and left. If I kept talking, I was going to start cussing at him or something and that wouldn't be good. I hoped I didn't screw things up for Lars, but I had to say what I said, whether it was my business or not. It probably wasn't my business, but I really didn't like seeing what was happening to Lars. I mean he hardly ever smiles any more and looks like he's never having any fun.
I sat down next to Mr. B. I think I was breathing kind of hard.
"What was that talk all about? It looked like you were getting pretty animated."
I told him what was said and he gave me one of his funny looks. "Sometimes I can't figure out if it's you or if it's Jeffrey who is the biggest hurricane."
<Wednesday, May 27, Mayfield Middle School>
The JV girls softball team piled off the bus followed by the varsity boys. The boys had enjoyed a 7-1 win, with Scott pitching five innings, followed by Lars and Hunter throwing one each. The girls had lost their game 14-12. The boys were all in a good mood. Even though they finished with only a 4-8 record, they did win three of their last four games and had played much better baseball. After their horrid start, they did manage to salvage a little bit of pride with their finish.
Eric made sure to talk to everybody about the upcoming carwash. He let all of his teammates know how important it was for them to be there as he gave them their schedules for the wash. He tried to make each of his teammates feel special and wanted. He knew Marty would be doing the same thing at the high school over the next couple of days. Marty, Rich, Eric, and Noah all agreed that they had become too negative about what was happening with the Go to State Team. They thought that maybe if they tried a more positive tack they might get some better results. At any rate, it couldn't hurt.
Neil Anderson left Clark Pass as soon as the game ended. He had been pleased to see his son pitch a perfect sixth inning, but he couldn't totally enjoy it. While Troy's story had struck a chord with him, he failed to see how it applied to him personally. He didn't see his issue with Lars as being the same as what Troy's father had with his son. To him, he wasn't condemning Lars for being gay, he was restricting him from being around those who made him think he was gay.
But Marty's emotional plea had struck him personally. It had come from a boy who knew his son and who knew the situation. In many ways Marty sounded like his wife, telling him to accept Lars for who he was rather than try to turn him into somebody else. He was surprised to hear Marty admit he was gay, especially knowing how he felt about Lars. He couldn't help but wonder if every boy in town was gay. It was beginning to appear that way to him.
At that moment, however, his concern was with his son. Neil realized it had taken a lot of courage for Marty to sit next to him and bare his soul. Troy had shown courage, too, but not in the same manner Marty had. Marty had risked and received his wrath by telling him he was gay and telling him how he was going to lose Lars, if he already hadn't.
Neil sat at his desk at home and looked at the packet of forms for summer baseball. He filled in the appropriate blanks and placed his signature on the forms. He thought some more about his actions until he heard somebody entering the house. It was either going to be his daughter, Ann, or Lars. He walked into the hallway and saw Lars, still in his uniform, munching on an apple.
"Where's mom?" Lars asked somewhat coldly. "I'm hungry."
"She had a late appointment for Alex. She's bringing takeout." Alex had been dealing with earaches.
"Oh." Lars headed for his room, but his father stopped him.
"We need to talk, son."
"Why? You've got nothing to say to me that I want to hear." Neil Anderson was now quite aware that the sullen teenager his son had turned into was his own creation. His intolerant actions had given birth to this version of Lars. He had hurt his son just as sure as Troy and Marty's fathers had hurt their sons.
"Come in and talk anyway...please." Lars blinked when he heard his father say please. It was the first time in a while his father had used a conciliatory tone of voice when speaking to him.
Lars shrugged his shoulders and entered the den, sitting down on the leather chair next to his father's desk. His father handed him a clipboard with papers attached to it. Lars recognized the top page as the contract the Go to State Team had created. He saw his father's signature on it. "What am I supposed to do with it?" he asked, somewhat perplexed.
"How about using the pen and signing it."
"Why?" Lars wasn't quite sure where this was leading. He couldn't help but wonder if he was somehow being tricked by his father; now that baseball was over his father was going to lead him on by having him sign the document and then tear it up to rub his nose into all of the shit around him even more. Since he couldn't think of anything else to do other than shout out that he hated his father and then stomp out of the room, he put his fingers around the pen and signed the contract. He was surprised to see his hand shaking. Walking out of his father's den screaming was getting old, even for Lars.
Lars held the clipboard tightly, afraid of what might happen if he handed it to his father. "Why?" he asked one more time.
"Because I was wrong. I love you son, as much as a man can love anything in the world. I blamed everybody else for turning you into something I didn't like. By not listening to you and trying to make you into what I wanted you to be instead of accepting you for who you are, well, I destroyed your happiness. I am sincerely sorry and hope that someday you will see fit to forgive me and not hate me."
Lars still had no idea what to say, so he lowered his head. Suddenly, what had been building up in him for weeks came out all at once. He sobbed uncontrollably, a fountain of tears running down his cheeks and falling on the clipboard, smearing the signatures. He didn't care. All he cared about right then was that his father loved him, which was all he ever wanted from him. Neil Anderson held Lars against his chest as his fourteen year old son soaked his father's shirt with his tears.
The prison wall had come down, but there were wounds remaining on both sides that would take much longer to heal.
<Saturday, May 30, Mel's Service Station>
Marty and Eric were pleased not only with the turnout by the Go to State Team at the carwash, but by the positive attitude of everybody involved. From the sign holders along the main road, to the washers and wipers, they all worked hard and had a good time. They rotated jobs to keep everybody interested.
The entire group was happy to see Lars show up. They knew he'd be there, although he hadn't told anybody about his father's change of mind until the day after he and his dad had their talk.
"I can even spend the night with you," Lars told Kevin. "But no messing around outside of my bedroom and Alex better not be anywhere near us when you come to my house."
"Your dad is going to let us mess around?" Kevin asked.
"He didn't, like, say that. What he said was we can't mess around outside of my bedroom or with Alex around. Which I guess means we can mess around in my bedroom."
"Whatever. When can I come?"
"Tonight sounds good."
That made Kevin happy, especially since Hunter had gotten the go- ahead from his father to let Kraig spend the night over a week ago. "He says he thought he told me it was okay and kept wondering why you never came over."
"That's probably a lie," Kraig said. "But it's cool. I'll be there tonight. He probably missed perving on my body. I'll be sure to wear the tightest bikini briefs I've got for him to see me in."
"You're bad," Hunter said. "Too bad you don't have a thong. That would be worse."
"I do have one," Kraig said, laughing. "But we can't give your old man a heart attack; we need his money for the Falcons."
When they weren't working at washing cars, Eric and Marty both talked to the team members, telling them how much they appreciated them being there and how great their season was going to be. By the end of the day a lot of the bad feelings between the players had dissipated. There were still some problems to be dealt with. It would be awhile before everything was brought to the surface. The carwash had brought them a little closer, but they were still a long way from the team that had gone undefeated in the middle school league a year ago and had made an impression with their inspired play last summer. It would take their long awaited trip to California to bring things to a head.
Next: California Dreaming