Chapter 7-Tampa
One Week Earlier
Tampa, Florida
"And with a dash of cash, the Yankees signed Flash. AL East watch out, the old dog is out," WFAN 66.60 AM sports radio pundit Steve Summers rhymed. "He's been freed from the town of Beans and says he's a new man, a man with a plan. And this man with a plan that was signed with a dash of cash can only hope, oh hope he can, can't he? Can Flash Olympios bring the Yankees another Commissioner's Trophy?"
Zeus shook his head and shut off the radio in his G63. The mortal king of Olympus smirked as he thought about the rhyme scheme of the older radio pundit, findings a sort of odd glee in being talked about in such a poetic manner. He had always enjoyed media attention in the mortal world; he felt right at home answering questions and providing information for the press to eat out of his hand. Though he loved being interviewed by journalists and being asked baseball questions, he especially loved hearing the sports pundits such as Steve Summers talk about him. He enjoyed hearing their praise and even their criticism, the latter particularly proving to be useful fuel for when he felt the need to prove someone wrong about how good he was.
Zeus had been listening to WFAN 66.0 AM while driving north from Miami to Tampa, Florida. He was headed to spring training with the Yankees, packing up his things in his G63 just like he had in previous years with the Red Sox. But while in previous years Zeus had chosen to train by himself until the day before spring training games started, but this year was different. This year, with some heavy goading from Hermes and some coercive contract language, Zeus decided to head to spring training early, earlier then he had ever gone to spring training before. Not only was Zeus going before the rest of the Yankees showed up for training, he was going even a few days earlier then the rest of the pitchers and catchers were showing up. Zeus did not necessarily agree with the plan that Hermes had laid out for him, but he ultimately relented and placed his trust in the god of sports and athletes. His immortal son would surely know what to do best in this matter, he figured.
He pulled off the quiet Florida highway into Tampa proper, snaking his SUV through the quiet streets of early morning Tampa until he got to the spring training facility. The four building, two baseball field complex appeared desolate. Many of the lights were shut off aside from the parking lot lights. The parking lot itself was scarce except for a few vans and one silver Audi A6. Zeus pulled up in his own spot and glanced around the lot, raising an eyebrow when he saw the A6. Could someone else be here, he wondered. He shrugged his shoulders and stepped out of his SUV to grab his bags. It was probably just one of the Yankee coached, he figured.
He pulled his suitcase behind him, held a duffel bag over his shoulders, and carried a small backpack in his left hand. He fiddled with the keys that the Yankees had sent him and unlocked the door to the main facility and stepped inside, flipping a few of the light switches to turn the hallway lights on. He pulled his bags through the tiled hallways and walked around, following signs until he found his way to the main bunk in at the spring training facility. He found the door unlocked and the lights on, a fact which made him even more curious then when he saw the Audi in the parking lot. Even more surprising for Zeus was, after checking his phone, he found that the bunk bed he was sleeping in, was already adorned with opened bags and ruffled sheets that indicated someone was already there.
The doors on the other side of the bunk opened up and Zeus turned to see who would walk through them. He saw a young blonde man who looked like he was in his early twenties wearing a white Nike t shirt, gym shorts, and cross trainer sneakers. In his left hand was a bottle of Gatorade pressed against his mouth and a towel rested on his left shoulder. In his right hand was a spinning gyroscopic ball, a tool that pitchers used to strengthen their wrist muscles. The blonde chugged the Gatorade, let out a burp and saw Zeus. The king of the gods did not recognize him.
"Mornin'," the young man said. He spoke with a southern drawl and continued to spin the gyroscopic ball in his hand.
"Morning," Flash said. He picked up his bags and threw them up onto the top bunk, turning his back to the young man.
"Surprised to see you here so early," the young man said. He walked over to the top bunk while Zeus chucked his bags onto the top bunk. "I didn't think anyone was showin' up today."
"I figured I'd show up early." Zeus threw his backpack up on the bed and then turned to face the young man. He was still rolling his wrist to keep the gyroscopic ball spinning. Zeus stretched out his hand. "Nice to meet you. I'm Flash Olympios."
"I know who ya are," the young man stated. He walked past Zeus and reached under the bunk bed to pull up a portable chin up bar. He picked the bar up and placed it on the edge of the bed frame. "I'm just surprised to see someone of your stature here so early at spring trainin', and roomin' in the rookie and second year bunks at that."
Zeus raised his eyebrow and rested his hand, turning to see the young blonde do some chin ups on the bar. "And who are you, blondie?"
The young man set himself down from the chin up bar and walked up to Zeus. His blue eyes met Zeus's own blue eyes, staring him down with an icy gaze that Zeus had not seen since he left Olympus. The young man gave Zeus a stern scowl, a scowl so filled with determination and drive that it made Zeus recall some of the many memories he had arguing with Hera. He saw the young man gnash his teeth and clench his fists. "Listen here, Flash Olympios," the blonde young man ordered. He reached up and pointed a finger right at Zeus's nose, making Zeus eyes go wide and a look of surprise stretch across his face. "You may be hot shit with your Cy Youngs, your big money, and all those ladies you take home, but ain't nobody goin' to call me anything but my name. My momma gave me my name and she raised me to be damn proud of it. And my name is Keegan, Keegan McDonough. You got that?"
Zeus stared down the young man with a furrowed brow. It had been some time that anyone had talked to him like that, and those who did talk to him in such a manner were gods and goddesses whom were several millenia older then this young man who was staring him down. Zeus kept his brow furrowed for a few seconds and then smirked, letting out a slight "heh" before he stepped away from the young man. "Fine, Keegan McDonough. Have it your way."
He climbed up onto the top bunk of the bunk bed and opened up his backpack to take out a tablet computer he had brought with him. He opened up and went immediately to check his own person twitter page, which he found had numerous notifications and requests by one of his millions of female followers to get his number, looking to see if any were worth giving his number to. While he did such Keegan began to do chin ups on the bar again. Zeus could hear his labored breathing as he checked his twitter page. As Keegan did his chin ups, Zeus smirked and rolled his eyes. He had only one thing to say about the young man doing chin ups on the bunk.
"Punky little gym rat," he whispered to himself.
"What'd you say?" Keegan asked. He did another chin up.
"Nothing," Zeus said. He turned away from Keegan and continued to check his twitter page, smirking and rolling his eyes as he heard Keegan's labored breathe and counting with each chin up the young man did.
Present Time
Tampa, Florida
"Attention passengers," a voice called out over the 747's intercom. "This is your captain, Lou Smith, speaking to you from sunny Tampa Florida. It is 2:30 and we've just touched down on our flight from Athens, Greece. Outside right now its sunny a brisk seventy degrees here in the Sunshine State, and at this time we here at Virgin Airlines Flight 1934 will allow passengers to unfasten their seat belts and get their overhead baggage. Again, on behalf of Virgin Airlines, I'd like to thank all of you for being a wonderful group of passengers and would like to wish you a safe and fun stay in Tampa, Florida."
Hera sighed and cracked her eyes open from her seat. She let out a long yawn and opened up her eyes fully, stretching herself out and bending her neck both left and right for a moment before standing up. She yawned again and stretched her hands above her head, taking time to run one hand down her back and through her auburn hair. She looked around as she stretched her arms, noticing that everyone on the plane was getting up and grabbing their overhead bags. Shaking herself quickly, she reached down below her seat and pulled out a small black backpack that Hermes had given her up on Olympus among his other gifts. She slung the bag over her shoulder, brushed aside her hair from her peacock feather earrings, and began to walk out of the plane and into the gate. Once inside the gate, she was greeted by a nicely dressed Hermes, who again was wearing one of his new blazers, a plaid button down shirt, and his signature black and red Detroit Red Wings cap upon his head.
"Perfect timing on your part," Hermes remarked. Hera walked closer and Hermes looked up and down at what she was wearing. She was in one of her trademark red dress robes and wearing nothing but sandals upon her feet and a few bracelets on her wrists. He began to chuckle at her look.
"What are you laughing at, Hermes?" Hera asked.
"Mother," he chuckled. He shook his head and put a hand on his forehead. "Mother, what are you wearing?"
"What am I wearing?" Hera asked. She walked up to Hermes and picked up the hem of her dress robe. "I'm wearing what I wear almost every day on Olympus." She looked at the messenger god and his attire. "I should ask what you are wearing. You're supposed to be the patron of athletes, and that's not very athletic looking attire."
Hermes rolled his eyes and waved Hera forward. "Come on, we have to get that chest Hephaestus put together for you from the baggage carousel."
"Baggage carousel?" Hera said. "What is a baggage carousel?" She followed Hermes closely through the airport, looking around at all the people who were speaking on cell phones, stopping at coffee shops for coffee, or walking toward their flights. Many of the people wore unique white and blue stripped shirts adorned with an N intersected by a Y along with blue caps bearing the same logo. Other people had on similar shirts and caps, but they were different colors and had different logos.
"Didn't Apollo explain any of this to you when he took you to the airport today?" Hermes asked.
"No. He just took the trunk and gave it to one of the attendants at the desk for checking in. I went to protest, but he said it was fine," Hera explained. "Is this carousel of baggage where the mortals are keeping the trunk?"
"You bet." The two gods continued through the airport at a brisk pace until they reached the baggage carousel.
"Well I was more then capable of carrying it myself onto that airplane thing," Hera said. "My goodness that machine was the size of a small giant. And as loud as one to."
"That reminds me, how was your flight?" Hermes asked. He stood next to Hera as the baggage carousel began to start up. He looked around with his peripheral vision to make sure no one was staring at the queen of the gods.
"Fine, I suppose." Hera looked on as bags began to emerge from a portal in the center of the carousel and moved onto the revolving conveyor belt. "I don't understand why I had to fly on an airplane, Hermes. I could've just.."
"As queen of Olympus, Mother, you surely remember that while you can appear anywhere you want to in an instant, I cannot have you do that for the sake of conspicuousness. To judge Zeus, I actually needed you to move about the mortal world like I do so very frequently. And that meant adopting mortal transportation to move from one place to another," Hermes explained. He continued to watch the carousel and chuckle under his breathe at his stepmother's outfit.
"Of course," Hera said. She rolled her eyes and waited for the trunk to appear. When it did appear on the carousel, Hermes reached over and grabbed it, lifting it off the carousel with a large heave of his small arms.
"Damn!" Hermes exclaimed. He panted as he held up the chest in his arms. "I don't care what Hephaestus said. This trunk is not light at all." He grimaced and began to walk with the trunk toward the exit of the airport. Hera followed closely at his side. "How much did Aphrodite pack in this thing?"
"Enough for a long stay," Hera said. The two gods approached the door and the sun shined brightly in Hera's face. She squinted and put her hand over her eyes. The sun was high in the sky at this point in the day, and coming out of the dark airplane and the light but not obnoxiously bright airport made Hera blink her eyes rapidly as they adjusted to the sunlight. Hermes noticed her aversion to the light, set down her trunk, and handed her a small rectangular box. Hera opened it up to reveal a pair of black tinted aviator glasses.
"The mortals call those sunglasses," Hermes said. He reached into his pocket and took out his own pair of folded sunglasses. "You put them on your face, like this." He slipped the glasses onto his fest, their frame resting on his ears and the bridge of his nose. "The lenses keeps the sun out of your eyes."
Hera unfolded the glasses and put them on her face. The world appeared slightly darker through their tinted lenses, but all in all she felt far more comfortable wearing the glasses then she did not wearing them. She balanced them on the bridge of her nose and straightened the backpack hanging from her shoulders. Hermes picked up the trunk and walked with Hera across the street into the airport parking lot. After a short walk through the parking lot, a walk in which Hera looked curiously at all the different vehicles sitting in the lots, the two came up to Hermes car, a blue Lexus RX crossover SUV.
"You've never been in a car, have you?" Hermes asked. He opened up the trunk of the Lexus and shoved the trunk inside with a large heave, a heave which left him panting like a dog.
"Can't say I have," Hera remarked. She opened the door to the front seat with a pull of the door handle and climbed into the front seat. Hermes sat next to her on the driver's side and showed her how to buckle her seat belt. Hera thought the restraint was both pointless and uncomfortable, but Hermes said it was necessary for her to wear it according to mortal laws. Once she was fastened in, Hermes back the Lexus out and the two gods left the airport.
"You know, sometimes I don't get you at all," Hermes remarked. He drove out of the airport and onto Tampa's streets.
"What do you mean?" Hera asked.
"Aphrodite buys you all of the latest and most fitting fashion items that, if I may say, you would look very stylish in, and you choose to dress like you just got out of bed on Olympus," Hermes said. "Here I'm telling you this after I just explained to you about looking inconspicuous, and you aren't inconspicuous at all."
"You saw what she bought me, Hermes," Hera retorted. "I couldn't wear those two strips of cloth on the airplane! It would be incredibly undignified of me."
"Mother, she got you more then just the bikini," Hermes reminded Hera. "She got you some very stylish, very expensive clothing, and you should wear it at least to show your appreciation for her."
"Well I'll put some of it on later," Hera stated. "Right now I just want to wear what I always wear." She paused for a moment and then remembered something else she wanted to discuss with Hermes. "And if anyone is going to talk about blending in, what is the meaning of this?"
The queen of the gods reached into her backpack and pulled out a series of papers. Among the papers was an American driver's license, a passport, a birth certificate, a green card, and a series of images of Hera that she had no memory of ever giving her likeness to. Though the images clearly showed her face, they also showed her hair tied back in a manner that she had never seen before and without any of her earrings. "Why do I have to carry all of this around with me?"
Hermes glanced over briefly as he drove through Tampa. "You only need the little card that says 'drivers license' on it. Although I assume you won't be driving anywhere by yourself, seeing as you don't know how to drive."
"Well I could learn," Hera said. She glanced over at Hermes while he was driving the Lexus. "It doesn't look that hard."
"Let it be known that I don't want you driving anywhere on your own, Mother," Hermes stated. He made a right turn down a Tampa street. "But all you have to do is put the driver's license in your wallet and you'll be fine. That's all you need to do."
"Well what is the meaning of this alias that Iris gave me?" she asked.
"Let me see those papers," Hermes asked. Hera handed him the papers and he glanced at them while steering the Lexus with one hand. "Why, there's nothing wrong with this at all. I think Iris did a fine job creating you a mortal alias to live under, Mother."
"It says in those papers that I'm some kind of arbiter of separation the mortals call a 'divorce attorney'!" Hera exclaimed. "I'm the patroness of marriage! I hate the mere notion of divorce!"
"Well maybe that was a bit unnecessary," Hermes said. "But your name, birthplace, and mortal age seem about right."
"Let me see those papers again," Hera ordered. Hermes handed her back the papers and she looked at them again. "And my name, age, and birthplace, they're all wrong!"
"What do you mean they're wrong?" Hermes asked. "It's an alias, it's not supposed to be true to who you really are. You can't just walk around the mortal world saying.." Hermes took his hands off the wheel, held them up, and tried to do his best impression of his step mother. "Oh look at me, I'm Hera, queen of the Olympians, and I live on top of a mountain in Greece in a castle inhabited by immortal beings who work to oversee order in the world that we live in. You can't just wear that all on your sleeves!"
An oncoming car beeped its horn loudly and Hermes swerved out of the way quickly. The god of athletes sighed and shook his head as he collected himself and drove down the road. He looked over at the queen of the gods and saw she was wide eyed but relatively unfazed, which made him feel comforted. "Alright," he began. He panted a few times and continued to drive slowly. "I need to drive you to the spring training facility before we go back to the hotel later. I figured you'd want to see what Zeus is up to. We can talk about your alias issues later, okay?"
Hera nodded her head and turned her head to look out the window of the Lexus. "I think I'd like that. Take us there, Hermes." Hermes turned the car in the direction toward the Yankees spring training facility. He felt nervousness begin to brew in his chest and throat. He was not certain what would happen at the spring training facility.
A loud thwack of a baseball hitting a leather emanated through the air of the Yankees practice field. It repeated over and over again, ringing out in varied intervals as different pitchers took their place on the practice field mound. One pitcher would take their chance up with with the Yankees bullpen catcher, each throwing twenty pitches while they were watched by manager David Robertson, coaches from all levels of the Yankees organization, and by front office brass. The other players performed stretches and other exercises in the outfield and infield of the practice diamond. Each of them wore their blue and white spring training jerseys as well as their diamond mesh practice caps and cleats. Zeus moved among these players, taking his place among some of the relief pitchers while the other starters took their turns.
As Zeus swerved his way through a row of cones at a sprint pace and did his stretches, he could not help but look over at the mound of the practice field. Up on the mound was Keegan, throwing his first simulated pitching sessions off of the mound. He listened closely to the thwack of the baseball leaving Keegan's hand and hitting the bullpen catcher's glove. He also paid close attention to Keegan's delivery. He scanned Keegan's delivery with attentive eyes, watching as the young pitcher made pitch after pitch with what seemed like relative ease. Curious, Zeus left the cone drill and walked over to the mound with his glove in hand, taking his place next to the grizzled Yankees pitching coach, Terrance "Terry" Shaw.
"How's it going, Flash?" the old pitching coach asked. He reached out for Zeus's hand and Zeus shook it, patting him on the back in a light embrace. "Enjoying the facility so far?"
"More then Boston," Zeus remarked. The two men laughed lightly before looking back at Keegan. "Who is this kid anyway?"
"You're looking at the crown jewel of the New York Yankees farm system, Flash," Terry remarked. Zeus watched as Keegan wound himself up and threw a fastball into the catcher, furrowing his brow at the "thwack" sound made when the baseball hit the bullpen catcher's glove. "Keegan McDonough from Batesville, Arkansas. I thought you two already met?"
"We did," Zeus said. He looked on closely as Keegan threw another ball. "Dave bunked us together."
"Dave and I think you could give the young buck a hand," Terry stated. "This kid has almost everything. He's got power, four plus pitches, silky smooth mechanics like yours, and even has remarkably good control from what I saw briefly last year.."
"But he's missing something?"
"He is missing something." Keegan threw one more pitch and then stepped off the mound. Zeus could see the young pitcher shaking his head as he walked away from the mound, as if he was disappointed. "Good stuff out there, Keegan." Keegan didn't pay attention to the old coach and walked away shaking his head. Zeus watched with one eyebrow raised. He had never seen someone act that way during a bullpen session before. He began to think about what Terry thought might have been missing from Keegan.
Terry patted him on the back. "Hey, why don't you go show these youngsters how to throw a bullpen?"
"Sure. Why not?" Zeus remarked. He slipped on his glove and trotted toward the mound, taking his place on the raised area at the center of the diamond. He twisted his body slightly in both directions, trying to finish loosening up before he began to throw the ball. He scoffed at the mound with his cleats, feeling for a comfortable spot on the rubber before catching the ball thrown to him by the bullpen catcher. He felt the tightly wound ball in his hands closely. The seams and surface seemed good enough for him to throw with. Finally, licked his right hand fingers and then placed the baseball in his glove, holding it up to his face while the catcher got into position and made hand signals.
"Give me a nice heater, Flash," Terry ordered. Zeus nodded and stared down the bullpen catcher that was squatting down behind home plate.
He focused in on the center of the catcher's glove, right in the webbing where the ball would end up if he threw properly. Nodding to the catcher, he raised his shoulders and began to reach back with his arm, holding the baseball over his head in the glove as he would his upper body up and raised his right leg. As he raised his leg, he pulled his right arm back and stretched his glove hand outward, maintaining his shoulders perfectly level as he continued his motion. Planting his right leg down firmly on the ground and pointed his toes right at home plate, assuring he was perfectly on point in his motion. Holding his fingers over the seams of the fastball, he brought his right arm forward with great force as he pressed forward with his legs and hips. As his hand passed by his ear, Zeus released the ball brought his left leg forward to complete the delivery. He watched the ball zip through the air and make a loud thwack sound, similar to the one that Keegan had made, as it landed right in the catcher's glove.
Zeus looked at the bullpen catcher and then over at Terry. The older pitching coach, as well as some of the other Yankee coaches and scouts, were all nodding their heads. Some of the scouts were taking notes on pieces of paper. Terry asked Zeus to throw a few more four seam and two seam fastballs, and watched closely as Zeus performed each pitch with the relative ease that he was so accustomed to seeing from the other side of the diamond when his Yankee teams would face off against Zeus when he was with the Red Sox.
He threw five fastballs in total before Terry asked him to change things. "Show me the arc light, Flash," Terry ordered. "I want the young bucks here to see how a master throws a slider."
Zeus nodded and got back to do his motion again. He wound up his upper body and reached back, following through the same way he had when he had thrown the fastball. But instead of holding the ball on center and across all the seams or only part of the seams, he held it slightly off center and let the ball roll off from his index finger first as he snapped his wrist. The ball began to spin through the air and hooked violently as it entered the catcher's glove. Like the fastball, the slider made an equally loud thwack sound when it hit the glove. Zeus threw five of these sliders, noticing the scouts and front office personnel nod their heads while Terry smirked with glee.
"And now how about that ball lightning?" Terry requested. "Lets see if that splitter still has any life on it."
Zeus fiddled with the baseball in his glove, placing his index finger and middle finger on the seams of the baseball, each one overlapping one seam while he spread them wide and grasped them tightly in his fingers. He reached back into his windup and propelled his body forward, making emphasis to really drive forward with his legs while his arm drove forward and he snapped his wrist. The split finger fastball spun tightly through the air and shot downward sharply as the bullpen catcher caught it right in his hands. Like the fastballs, Zeus threw five total splitters. The scouts continued to write on their notepads and the king of the gods stepped up to the mound. Terry waved him over and Zeus took his place at the pitching coach's side.
"Man," Terry said. He smiled and put arm around Flash. "You sure are competitive, man. You were throwing like it was game seven of the World Series!"
Zeus raised his eyebrow. "What do you mean?" he asked.
Terry waved one of the scouts with a radar gun over. The scout came over and handed Zeus a piece of notebook paper. On it were the velocities of the pitches that Zeus threw. Zeus looked at it closely and his eyes grew wide.
"97, 96, 97, 90, 89, 90, 94," Zeus read out loud. He smiled and chuckled lightly. "Well I mean, I've always been more Randy Johnson then Greg Maddux, Terry."
"Man, save that arm of yours for the regular season," Terry said with a smile. "We'll need it more there then we will here in spring training. But keep up the good work."
Terry and the other scouts left Zeus standing with the little piece of paper scribbled with full of numbers on it. The king of the gods looked at the numbers and was curious. The radar gun must be busted, he thought. He remembered what Hermes had told him, that he could no longer throw as hard as the numbers claimed he just did. Unsure of what he had just done or how he did it, he threw the piece of paper in a nearby trash can and went back to join the other Yankees players for some cool down workouts. Zeus had no idea that someone very familiar with him was present at the spring training facility, watching him very closely throughout his whole bullpen session.
