1
JAX
“Are we understanding the situation, Mr. Mason?” The doctor raised his eyebrows as he stared at me from behind his desk with a concerned look on his face. All I could do was glaze over as the enormity of what he had just said washed over me.
“This isn’t the news we were hoping for.” My manager, Dan, practically hyperventilated.
“I know.” Doc looked me in the eyes. I knew this sucked for him too. Telling someone that their life was over couldn’t be easy.
I had known, though. As soon as the ball left my hand, I knew my career was over. I could feel the tear underneath my skin – the burn and instantaneous pain that rocketed through me. I stayed on my feet and screwed my face tight as I walked off the field and into the dugout. I had known – but it didn’t make the truth any less hard to hear. I had done everything they suggested – surgery that kept me on the bench for too long had sucked. Watching everyone else do their part –was the hardest thing of all as I sat there, willing the muscle to heal correctly.
It had been my fault. My choice.
It had been stupid.
Wishes…
If wishes were fishes – as my dad used to day.
“You’re sure that another surgery and hardcore therapy couldn’t…”
“Dan,” I said softly. My manager had big plans for me, and now… I guess I wouldn’t really need his services any longer.
Doctor Brown nodded. “Like I said – anything is possible, but the muscle would have to be shortened again, and that would completely change the radius of what his arm could do. If he played any other position, this wouldn’t be the same conversation – but as a pitcher and the force that is put upon his shoulder and back muscles, I’m afraid that this is the end.”
“I understand. Well, it was a good run, I guess.” I bit my bottom lip. “I came expecting this, but… I knew that it wasn’t… that it wasn’t going to be the same. I could feel it. I had no rotation.”
“It’s hard to hear. I know.” Doc Brown stayed behind his desk and closed my file. It felt final, and I swallowed the lump in my throat. “A surgery isn’t the… If you’re not playing, Jax, I’d just walk away and continue your therapy. But a fast ball… I’m sorry, son. This is the end of being able to play at your top condition.”
“We gave it our best. I did everything that I was told, doc. So, what now?” I looked over at Dan. His face was ashen with the news of one of his star players being forced into retirement.
He shrugged. “I don’t know. Maybe they’ll keep you on the bench and wait out your contract. But… My guess is they’ll buy you out. They’ll need to replace you, Jax.”
I straightened up in the chair. Bad news felt less bad if you faced it with your head held high and your spine as straight as steel. That was something Coach Criss had taught me my freshman year as the state championship slipped from my fingers with a bad curveball. I still woke sometimes in a cold sweat as I dreamed about that ball flying high toward the center field and landing beyond the wall. The homerun that changed the course of my life.
Looked like my life was changing course again. This time the curveball was coming right at me.
“It’s over, huh?” I dragged myself out of the doc’s office and toward the elevator. I had been stewing with worry over my fucking shoulder for half a year. Now the stew had simmered, and I had a lot of figuring out to do. My career, short as it was, had come to an end. Six years of pitching in the major leagues, and three years ago, a giant break as my team won the series. I had been at the top of my game, and my salary had started to show it.
What did I have now? A few pennants and a win and a loss in the World Series. A house that cost more than I ever thought I could afford, along with a few endorsement deals that would probably dry up when I finally broke the news of having to retire.
Oh yeah… And a mountain of depression. I also had that.
“Not over, Jax – but things will be different now. You still have endorsements, and I don’t see them dropping you right away. Get the money and put it in your bank. When we announce, and we’ll have to plan that, we’ll see a rush of offers. If we play it right, you could walk away with a large enough nest egg to keep you comfortable for the rest of your life.”
“Why would anyone want a washed-up baseball player to be the face of anything, Dan? I’m over, bro.”
Dan chuckled as the elevator doors opened, and we walked inside.
“What’s funny?” I asked stiffly. My world was falling apart, and my manager had the fucking giggles.
“Baseball may have opened the door for you, kiddo. But it’s the way you look that brought the money in. You could have been a shitty player, and that face of yours would have still gotten you that deal for shaving cream. Your body is what got you deodorant. Once Celeb Magazine named you one of the five hottest celebrities, people started calling. We can ride that train for as long as you’re willing – get you on some reality shows, and your fame will only grow – baseball or not.”
“Dude… You know that’s not what I want to do.”
He sighed, and the elevator dinged. “I know. But it’s what we got. You can’t be an all-star pitcher anymore. But you can be an even bigger celebrity if you want. Think of the money you could be making me.” He whined. “I like money, Jax.”
“I like my privacy, Dan.” I held the door open with my hand as we got off and walked through the lobby. “So, what now?”
