FanPost

Story Time: Deep in the heart of a minor league stadium


Head aching. Nausea kicking in. Why did I do this to myself? He thought, as the bus bumped along the road in the middle of nowhere. When you’ve got eight guys living in an apartment together, all of which recently out of high school or college, it’s just another day at the office. Luckily for me, I am not scheduled to pitch that day. Or at least, I hope not. But for my roommate Mike, he’s not so lucky. Living off low wages, eating the cheap foods. You’ve gotta have fun somewhere, right? But it doesn’t change the fact that this game will be less then fun.

For a minor leaguer, this is just a typical day if you aren’t one of the Stars. Playing baseball professionally is a dream for all of us. We live what we do. But the life isn’t easy, especially if you are a filler of sorts. Living in an apartment with tons of other players and saving money whenever possible becomes commonplace. But, we are still young guys and want to have fun! So every once in a while, a party is bound to occur. You just hope it occurs on a day you aren’t needed!

The bus continues to bump and grind along the road. It’s so hot, my teammate complains. He’s right. I feel myself sweating on top of my sweat. As I sip my ice cold water, I remember what is at stake. A six game winning streak, longest of the season. But we are playing a good team today, and need to be at our best. Welp, so much for that! But if David Wells can pitch a perfect game while hungover, anyone can accomplish anything, right? We got this.

Finally, we pull into the stadium. A cheer erupts from the bus. This is it. Our chance to prove we belong. To prove we can hang with the big boys. For some of us, to prove we belong too. We know scouts aren’t there for us, the filler. I certainly know they aren’t there for me. But maybe, just maybe, today is the day we catch someone’s eye. Just one. But even if not, we still have a game to play and win. We are a team, and winning is always better then losing.

Heading towards the locker room, the mood is a mix of somber and jubilation. My roommates and I, just trying not to vomit, are the somber. Walk slowly, don’t look into the lights, don’t make any sudden movements. Stay hydrated. That’s our best bet. For the rest, jubilation. We are on a winning streak for f***’s sake, smile a little! Jayden says. And he’s right. But oh so wrong at the same time. Jayden can’t afford to drink right before a game. For him, he’s got prospects of the majors. He needs every day to be his best. All eyes are on him.

I head to my locker. Someone is blasting music in the clubhouse. Can you turn that s*** down, dude! Mike yells. Stop being a downer! They reply. Mike mumbles something under his breath. We all laugh. We’ve gotta lighten up somehow, right? A few of the guys start a dance battle. I know my butt can’t dance, but boy we have some dancers on our team. Before too long, I’m forgetting my headache and clapping and laughing along with the team. Yes, this is why I love baseball. Boy am I blessed.

Heading out to the field, the air feels weird. Whatever, I’m sure it’s nothing. A few of the guys are taking batting practice, some are playing long toss in the field. For me, I pitched two days ago. So I head over to coach to go through so of my grips and mechanics. I want tomorrow’s bullpen day to be a success. Of course, I’m not the priority anyway. But I still want to be at my best.

High pitched yelling fills the steps of the dugout. I jump, not sure what I will see. Out runs my teammate Carlos, pants half down and no shirt, closely followed by Jamie, rat tail in hand. The sight is too much for me, and I just fall to the ground in fits of laughter. Jesus f***ing Christ, man, get yourself together! Coach yells. We’ve got a f***ing game to play here!

Warmups are over, and I take my rightful spot on the bench. The game itself starts uneventfully. Back and forth the half innings go, a hit here or there. High fives flow when Jayden hits his first bomb. 2-2, in the fifth. Sitting next to Mike, who is still clearly less then enthused. I razz him. What’s wrong? Fun too much for ya? Mike is always serious, but especially today. The game continues on. High fives, cheers, jokes, the usual. But then comes the top of the ninth.

I felt the air shift before I saw it. What the hell? I exclaim. At first it just looks like a dark cloud in the background. Then, it starts to look more cylindrical. That’s when I figure it out. A freakin tornado is touching down in the background. Uh, coach? I ask. Should we still be playing this? Chill out, kid. Welcome to the minors. I can’t help but watch the tornado form. It seems to be moving away from us, but what do I know. I’m from Boston! I’m so fixated on this twister that I nearly miss it. Jayden, also clearly ready to move on, crushes his second bomb of the day. This one, a 430 foot (I estimate) moon shot. 4-2, good guys. A quick one two three inning and we end the game. Six in a row. We did it.

Now it’s time to scoot. Cheers erupt in the locker room. Dancing, singing, you name it. But coach breaks up the party. Weathers changing fast, guys, hurry up and let’s get the f*** out of here! We scramble to the bus, singing and laughing all the way. Just as we get on, the rain starts. Pours. Like a waterfall opening up from the sky. At least I don’t see a twister anymore. Away we go.

Ah, I say. This is the life. And we get to do it all again tomorrow. But for now, to the hotel. Just another day in the life of the minor leagues.

(Names in this story are fictional, but the experience is not. I chose to redact names from privacy, etc.)

This FanPost is reader-generated, and it does not necessarily reflect the views of McCovey Chronicles. If the author uses filler to achieve the minimum word requirement, a moderator may edit the FanPost for his or her own amusement.

Recent FanPosts