Payoff Pitch (Philadelphia Patriots) (32 page)

BOOK: Payoff Pitch (Philadelphia Patriots)
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“Listen, Teddy, you need to put the whole business out of your mind. I know how deep this stuff cuts for you, but you don’t want to jeopardize a job you really need. There will be other battles to fight, and this one just isn’t worth it.”

She wasn’t surprised that her father would feel that way. He always put his children’s needs first. But what he didn’t understand was that far more than her job was involved in her decision. Noah had become so much more to her than a boss, regardless of what might or might not happen between them in the future.

“I’m trying, Dad. Really, I am. But every time I think about what Baron is doing up there…” She got sick just thinking about it. “I know our farm’s safe, but I can’t bear the thought of our land becoming surrounded by drilling rigs as far as the eye can see.”

“Yeah, this place is safe,” he said with a dry laugh, “unless Dalton decides to put a pillow over my head when I’m sleeping. He’s getting more and more agitated about all the money we’re supposedly missing out on. When Joe Henderson signed, I thought the top of his head was going to come clean off.”

“He’ll get over it,” Teddy said as she moved over to the crowded barista bar. It seemed like every student at Temple had decided to get a latté, or whatever, at the same time. “And since you told me you’re leaving the farm to
both
Dalton and me, you can be guaranteed that there’ll never be a gas rig on our land as long as I’m still drawing breath.”

“I know, sweetie. I thank God for that.”

Teddy stayed silent because she could tell he was getting ready to say something else.

“I’m sure you’ve made the case to Noah about why fracking is so bad,” he continued after a few moments. “But I was just mulling over an idea.”

“I could sure use one because I’ve run out,” she said with a sigh.

“Well, I think our Mr. Cade—Noah, I mean, not the old man—could use to hear directly from some of the folks around here. He should come up to the valley and talk to people. See with his own eyes what’s going on. See what Baron and Pendulum and the rest of the drillers are planning to do if they get their way. For starters, he could take a gander at Tom Dillon’s water. Maybe even taste it, if he has the stones for it.”

Teddy couldn’t help a little laugh at her father’s turn of phrase. If she knew Noah Cade, he had the stones for anything life could throw at him. And her father’s idea struck her as making eminent good sense. Of course it would be better for Noah to hear straight from the people who had been directly impacted by fracking, or who might be. Everything she’d told him was either second hand or largely theoretical. Besides, they were so tangled up in each other’s wounded feelings that it was hard for them to have a rational discussion about the issue.

But it wasn’t like the guy had nothing better to do with his time than hike off up to Susquehanna County to get his ass roasted by a bunch of irate farmers.

“That’s a great idea, Dad, but he’s a little busy now. The team plays almost every day, as you well know.”

“Sure, but he’s on the disabled list. He doesn’t have to sit on the bench every game. Not as far as I know, anyway.”

Teddy hadn’t been aware of that, since she still knew little about baseball. “Okay, but he said he might have to see a surgeon in Alabama any day now. He gets the MRI results tomorrow.”

“Hell’s bells, just ask him, Teddy. If he can find a few hours—anytime—I’m pretty sure I could set something up in a hurry. Hell, us farmers aren’t that busy, are we?” he joked.

“Not at all. You only work about fourteen hours a day, so there’s another ten or so hours available for everything else,” she said sarcastically.

“Ha! Well, then, just ask him, honey. You’ve always been a very persuasive gal.”

Apparently not when it comes to Noah Cade, though.

“Okay, I’ll give it a shot,” she said, starting to warm to the idea. It did make sense, especially since some farming families in neighboring communities had recently expressed regret over signing leases to allow fracking on their land. “Could you get some of the people who’ve had second thoughts about their leases in on this?”

“I’ll do my best.”

Teddy took her latté from the barista and headed toward the door, thinking about the complications. But, really, what did she have to lose? She’d just play it low-key and try to convince Noah that a trip north would help him make a better-informed decision.

“Then I’ll do my best, too, Dad. Let me broach the subject with him and see what happens. All he can do is say no, right?” she said in a light-hearted tone she certainly didn’t feel.

“I have a feeling Noah Cade is no match for my little girl. And I’ll start talking to people today.”

“Okay, but don’t tell them who it is you want them to meet,” Teddy hurried to say. “Because I don’t share your confidence that he’ll actually agree to this.”

“Have faith, Teddy. Have faith.”

“Easier said than done, Dad. But I’ll try.”

 

* * *

 

“Thanks for doing this, man,” Noah said as Nate ushered him into the foyer of his sprawling Main Line home.

Nate was casually dressed in checked sleep pants and a white T-shirt and looked like he hadn’t shaved yet today. That was one of the things Noah liked about his friend—he was a laid back, regular guy despite his money and talent.

“Hey, no sweat. Come on back,” Nate replied, leading him down the center hall toward the enormous, wood-paneled great room at the rear of the house. “How about a beer? Or coffee?”

Noah flopped down onto a leather sofa across from a room-dominating TV at least a six feet wide and surrounded by speakers from an impressive home theater system. The entire room, in fact, was classic man cave. “I won’t say no to a beer. And that’s a great screen, dude. What does Holly think about it?”

Nate grimaced as he opened two bottles of Corona. “She’s not thrilled about it, but hey, I don’t bug her about
her
cave, which is basically a full-on medical library. Anyway, I insisted the set-up was strictly for work, too—for baseball research purposes.”

Noah laughed. “Well, you
can
see the batters’ motions in greater detail with a screen this size.”

“Fuckin’ A.” Nate clinked his bottle against Noah’s before sitting down in the armchair opposite him. “So, what’s the verdict from the MRI?”

Noah had met with the team doctor and the radiologist at the latter’s office only an hour ago. As soon as he got out, he’d called Nate on his cell and asked to meet since he valued his opinion on the issue more than anyone else’s.

“What it comes down to is that the shoulder could probably be okay with a few weeks of rest.
Okay
,” he emphasized.

“Okay, meaning
not great
,” Nate said, getting the implication.

“Who knows? It could hold up for weeks or months or maybe even until I retire if I get really lucky. Or, it could blow up tomorrow with one pitch.”

“Wow, that’s real helpful to know. You could get hit by a bus today, too,” Nate said sarcastically.

“Tell me about it. Anyway, they think surgery is my best option if I want to try to keep pitching for a few more years.” He shook his head, trying to not to feel as sick at heart as he had when he first heard the recommendation. “I can try to manage it for the rest of the season and decide then, but it’s a risk because the damage could get worse.”

“So, what was their prognosis for rehab if you have the operation?”

The doctors had told him that the surgeon in Alabama was best positioned to advise him on that, but it depended on exactly what he found once he had Noah on the table. “In the worst case scenario, I’d have to be prepared to lose the rest of this season and as much as two-thirds of the next,” he said in a grim voice. “Basically, it’s a crapshoot at this point.”

“Well, shit, that totally sucks,” his friend said in a disgusted voice. “Jesus, after you lost almost a whole year with the elbow, too.” He leaned forward, his gaze full of sympathy. “Look, nobody could blame you if you decided you’d had enough, man. You’ve already been through a hell of a lot.”

Noah should have been upset by that response, but he knew that Nate was only saying it out of a sense of duty. He would bet it wasn’t what the veteran pitcher truly felt.

Still, his gut torqued as he contemplated his future. “I could be done as a starting pitcher. It would be tough to get my velocity back even with the surgery. And I sure as hell can’t close games, either, or even be a set-up man. So, that leaves middle-relief work. Mop up stuff.” He snorted as he thought about being relegated permanently to that role. “Not exactly much to look forward to, is it?”

“I totally get it. But you’ve had a great career, Noah. No matter what decision you make, every guy on the team respects you and supports you.” His friend paused for a moment, his gaze narrowing. “That being said, I think you could use an attitude adjustment.”

That jolted Noah. “Yeah?”

“Yeah, because it’s not just about
you
. The team needs leaders like you. I don’t give a crap whether you’re pitching seven innings every fifth day or one inning whenever you’re needed. You can be just as valuable in a new role as you were before all the injuries.”

“That’s bullshit, man,” Noah scoffed. “Nice try, though.”

Nate gave him a steely-eyed glare. “I’m serious. How many World Series rings have you got stashed away?”

“None, as you well know,” he answered, puzzled.

“Right. Now, how many rings has Jimmy Foligno got?”

Noah had to think about that one. Foligno was still pitching for the L.A. Dragons at forty-three years of age, throwing eighty mile an hour junk an inning at a time. But the venerable lefty had been on a bunch of different championship teams in his long career. “Uh, four, I think?”

Nate nodded. “Yeah, four. And with three different teams, too. He never won more than thirteen games in a season, but he still made it to the World Series five times and won four of them. So, how do you think he managed that?”

Noah thought about that for a few moments, too. “Contending teams sometimes grabbed him at the trading deadline. Mainly because he’s so good with the other pitchers.”

“Exactly. The guy’s never been an All-Star. Not once. But he has more Series rings than just about anybody. It’s because he’s the ultimate team man, and because he knows all the hitters inside out. When Jimmy’s on your team, it’s like having another pitching coach on the bench. And whenever he’s called on to give his team a clean inning, he drags his ass out to the mound, throws whatever sloppy shit he has left in his arm, and somehow gets the job done.”

“So, I’m supposed to try to be another Jimmy Foligno?” Noah shook his head. “I think they broke the mold when they made him.”

Nate shook his head impatiently. “I’m just using him to make a point. Nothing stays the same in this business for long. You know that. If you want to stay in the game a long time, you’ve got to be ready to do whatever it takes to stay valuable to the team.” He jabbed an index finger at Noah. “And you
are
valuable, you moron. You always will be unless you let your head fuck things up.”

Noah stayed quite for a minute or so, pondering his friend’s words. The trouble was, he wasn’t sure he wanted to stay in the game badly enough to take on a role that would leave him a shadow of what he once was.

“I’m getting some pressure to pack it in and join the family business,” he finally said. “In fact, my father wants me to front a media campaign for the gas industry.”

Nate shrugged. “You’ve got the rest of your life to do that shit. Best case scenario, you’ve only got a handful of years left to pitch. Focus on your career here, that would be my advice.”

That was exactly how Noah had always seen it, but lately life had thrown him a few curveballs. Still, there was no point trying to make Nate understand the sense of obligation he felt to his father and Levi.

“Jimmy Foligno, huh?” he said. “Next thing I know, you’ll be telling me to learn to throw a knuckleball so I can be another Phil Niekro and pitch till I’m forty-eight.”

Nate laughed. “There’ll never be another Phil Niekro. But you get my point, right? You do whatever you have to do. In your case, even if you don’t start games anymore, you can be damn important to the team by giving us solid middle innings. And,” he said with emphasis, “by mentoring the young guys coming up. You’ve got a lot more patience with that crap than me.”

“Not likely,” Noah said. Nate had always been incredibly patient with the young hurlers and had freely given of his time and advice.

But Nate’s point sank in, nevertheless. The veteran pitchers like Nate and him wouldn’t be around forever. One of the most important things they could do to ensure the continuance of a contending Patriot team was to pass on their knowledge and experience to the crop of youngsters currently rising up through the ranks of the minor leagues.

“Look, you wanted my advice,” Nate said, “so here’s the bottom line as far as I’m concerned. Before you even think about making an irrevocable decision, talk to people like Ault and Javy. But, most of all, talk to Charlie Clancy.”

“Charlie?” Noah echoed, surprised by the suggestion. Charlie Clancy had been a major force in both their lives as they developed into major league pitchers. As their pitching coach, Clancy had worked extensively with both of them at the Triple A level, though on different teams. Nate and Noah had often spoken about how much they both owed Clancy for their success.

Nate was right. If anyone could give him good advice on how to get off the freaking merry-go-round in his head, it was Charlie.

Still, he’d let their relationship slide these last few years, which was his bad. “I haven’t talked to him in over three years. Not since his retirement.”

“Then I guess it’s time you picked up the phone and gave the old bastard a call.”

 

 

- 22 -

 

Toby was all over Teddy as soon as she walked through the front door. She laughed, gently easing his big paws off her chest and lowering them to the floor. Though she’d made a lot of progress in settling him down, she hadn’t quite fully broken the mutt of the habit of jumping up on people. “Look, fella, I don’t mind you doing that but not everybody wants your glorious doggy self knocking them over. So, we’ve got to keep working on that, right?”

BOOK: Payoff Pitch (Philadelphia Patriots)
8.85Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
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