Eudial doesn't own Hey Arnold! because?:: I'd be rich and wouldn't be writing for free!! Nah just kiddin'..bout the writing part that is..
Eudial doesn't own any MLB teams because?:: Once again I'd be rich- lol.
---Cross-Town ~Bruthas---
~~Baseball terms: (Refer to these just in case you have no clue about baseball- lol)
Walk: The pitcher throws four balls that miss the strike zone; the hitter automatically takes first base.
Base Hit: The hitter hit the ball, the people in the infield or outfield failed to catch it: they're on first base. (If there's an error they can head over to second base.)
Double: Okay the hitter hit the ball pretty well and reaches second base.
Triple: Somehow the hitter ran really fast or hit it soo well he's on third base
Home Run: That ball is gone..I doubt its ever coming back…The hitter gets to round all the bases- and hey if it's Piazza he'll do an arm pull. (Ya'll Mets fans know what I'm talkin about- lol)
Grand Slam: A pitcher's nightmare- Someone hit a Home run when all 3 bases were loaded.
Top of the Inning: The guest team hits
Bottom of the Inning: The home team hits
Bullpen: That's where the pitchers warm up.
Reliever: A pitcher that is called out of the Bullpen to replace a pitcher that's already been pitching.
Closer: A pitcher that comes out to pitch when his team is or might be winning, to "close the game"
Any other terms… Just ask me on AIM: buhneey
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Arnold stayed focused as he pitched to a target in the bullpen. It was the bottom of the 6th inning. The stadium was a sell out crowd, as this series always sells out- The Subway Series that is. Arnold's team had been winning about 20 minutes ago until the starting pitcher blew it. It was Arnold's job as the relief pitcher to work his team out of this mess with a chance of winning. In fact, he was one of the best relief pitchers in the game.
"Alright Arnold it's your turn." One of the heads of the pitching staff looked at Arnold and directed him towards the gate of the bullpen. "Go work your magic kid."
Arnold smiled and nervously said "Thanks". He ran out of the bullpen onto the field. The Shea Stadium crowd cheered to see him coming onto the field, and clapped as the starting pitcher left.
He stood on the pitchers mound chatting with the catcher, while gripping the baseball and kicking the dirt. He nodded as the catcher talked to him and then walked back to his position.
It was time for Arnold to throw his first pitch. He gulped nervously and looked around him. It was 2 outs, the bases were loaded with Yankees- any false move and he would be in hell. Despite the ongoing pressure he threw the first pitch.
"STYYYRIKE 1" He heard being called by the umpire.
He wiped his forehead and looked behind him at the runners on base, making sure none of them had a lead. He threw another pitch.
"STYYRIKE 2!!" The crowd began to cheer. Just one more Strike and Arnold would be done with the inning, and save his team a lot of work.
He threw the pitch and was sure it would be a strike, but it wasn't. The hitter totally creamed the ball, and started to round the bases as he saw the "HOME RUN" sign light up. Arnold threw his glove into the dirt and kicked at it. The rest of his teammates just looked to the distance where the ball had traveled to, in awe.
The worst news was that he still had to face another batter, seeing how the Mets manager didn't want to take him out of the game yet. This next batter he faced was a cinch, as he popped up to centerfield and the inning was over. But Arnold wished the previous batter had been that easy. As he walked to the dugout the Mets fans booed him, and he hung his head down in shame.
He took a drink of Gatorade and sat next to his pitching coach who looked at him and said. "Kid how in the hell did that just happen??"
Arnold wiped some sweat from his head with a towel and looked at the ground. "I have no idea…"
"Oh well, all that's left to concentrate on is making more runs but with that 6 run deficit it's gonna be tough. "
"Yeah I'd help, but I'm a pitcher." He smiled.
His coach rolled his eyes. "Nonsense! You know this roster has had some great hitting pitchers! Take Shawn Estes for instance- Why he hit a Home Run off one of the Yankees!"
"That was a whole different team with guys like Al Leiter, Piazza, and Alomar- They're Hall of Famers!"
"Nonsense boy, just don't give up any more grand slams in your career and you'll be fine!" His coach laughed and got up.
"Wait... Who was that guy anyways? That hit the grand slam just now?" Arnold took a sip of his Gatorade.
"Hmm let me see." He went over to the player chart and read off it. "I think his name is 'Gerald Johansen' ".
Arnold spit out his water and walked over to the chart, looking at it in disbelief. "That's not possible!!"
His coach looked at him weirdly. "What the Grand Slam? He's one of the best hitters there is!"
"No the fact that he's back in the same city as me, playing the same game and can't even believe he wouldn't tell me he would be across town from now on."
"Well this was an overnight deal. He just got back from Atlanta a few weeks ago."
Arnold sat back down on the bench staring onto the field in disbelief. Was this the same Gerald Johansen he had been friends with as a kid?
The manager walked over to him and nodded. "Come on kid, innings over- go work your magic." He helped Arnold out of the dugout who strolled onto the field bumping into Gerald.
Arnold looked at Gerald, who had changed drastically over time. He nodded at him but in return Gerald laughed and raised an eyebrow. Arnold kicked the dirt as he watched Gerald run to his dugout and start snickering to his teammates. So Gerald wants to play dirty, two can play that game he thought. (Ever seen that movie- "Two Can Play that Game"- It's funny and gives good dating advice!!) Arnold concentrated as he pitched, and was out of the inning in about 15 minutes. No one got on base after that for a few innings.
It was the 9th inning, and Arnold was still left in the game, pitching and would face Gerald a second time. He heard music being played, and looked on the screen behind him to see Gerald's picture and stats on it. Arnold was determined to strike out Gerald this time.
Gerald walked up to the plate with a smile on his face, which Arnold resented. He threw the first pitch.
"STRIKE!"
Arnold gripped the baseball and threw another pitch.
"STRIKE!!"
This is it he thought. I'm going to strike him out.
He kept focus and threw the next pitch. After that the whole stadium sat up as they heard a loud noise come off Gerald's bat as the ball went flying into the outfield.
"DEEP, DEEP- WAAY BACK INTO LEFT FIELD! OH MAN THAT BALL IS GONE!!!!" The announcers could be heard everywhere with such emotion.
Arnold kicked the dirt in frustration and threw his glove onto the mound, while Gerald with a huge smile on his face rounded the bases smugly. The pitching coach came out of the dugout and signaled it was time for Arnold to come out of the game. The crowd booed him as he walked to the dugout- once again hanging his head in shame.
His teammates tried to comfort him somewhat, but he just went to the back and decided he needed a shower and then some time to keep his mind off things.
By the time Arnold was walking out of the stadium the game was over and overheard Gerald talking with his teammates as he entered the guest locker room.
Gerald's teammate patted him on the shoulder laughing. "Man you own that guy! 2 Home runs in a night? Including a GRAND SLAM? You should have come to our team earlier!"
Gerald smiled "Yeah I know that is kinda crazy. I just hope he pitches in the Subway Series next week!"
"Me too man! Alright see ya later man!!"
Arnold stared at Gerald and walked over to him. "What was it I heard your team mate saying about me? Something that YOU OWN me?"
Gerald froze as he heard Arnold comment behind him, and then turned around. "Excuse me?"
Arnold raised an eyebrow. "You heard me"
Gerald smiled evilly. "Just so you know I am the best hitter of all time, and I just hit a GRAND SLAM off one of the "supposed" best pitchers of all time. "
"Oh so its like that huh? I guess MLB has become a dirty sport- with no room for respect. "
"Man I aint say I don't respect you. I gotta get my hits however I can and if it means hitting off an ex-best friend its fine with me. "
"Wait a sec- ex-best friend?"
Gerald glared at Arnold. "Yeah ex-best friend. Face it man we haven't spoken for over 15 years! Give it up already!"
Arnold read his expression and altered his too. "You know what I'm starting to think that will work out for me too… Next Subway Series get ready to see my worst stuff." He walked away smiling.
Gerald shot back at him "Yeah man whatever! I'll hit off you like I did in the old days!"
Arnold turned around for a brief moment replying "Oh and just so you know, I had a tape recorder in my pocket the whole time." He took it out and showed it to Gerald who nervously gulped. "I could buy a new car with the money from this law suit.. But hey I'll think about it won't I?"
"You can't do that..To your best friend!"
"Best friend? Don't you mean 'ex-best friend'? Like you said- however u can get a hit, get one. We can catch up on the times in court." Arnold smiled and headed out of the stadium laughing at Gerald who stood there angrily.
That night many players on both teams ended up getting drunk at the bars. Arnold didn't drink that much and ended up driving half the pitching staff home, but Gerald…that was a different story. He celebrated his Grand Slam a little too much, and had 15 shots. The Yankees did not allow him to play the next day, and he was referred to a psychiatrist for analyzing. Apparently this wasn't the first time Gerald got drunk as a Yankee in the past 2 weeks, and his manager didn't want this to happen again.
Gerald arrived at a clinic, escorted by one of his teammates. He was still a little drunk but was manageable. An assistant came to him and led him to a room where a medium sized blond was sitting at a desk.
The blond looked at him and smiled. "Come in Gerald." The assistant handed the blond a clipboard and left the room.
Gerald sat in one of the chairs which was very comfortable. He looked at the woman who seemed to be very familiar, and looked at her desk to see a nametag.
He had to squint to read it: Helga G. Pataki, MD it read. "HELGA??" This was wayy to confusing for him, it was like his childhood friends were jumping back at him all at once.
She smiled while reading the clipboard. "Yes, but that's Dr. Pataki to you sir. "
He raised an eyebrow. "Since when did you want to become a shrink? You didn't seem like the type."
"I don't know I just got the idea from someone…Enough about me, this session is about your problem, and I see that is drinking."
He crossed his arms. "I don't have a problem."
She put the clipboard down and looked at him. "Mr. Johansen, you know I can't help you with your problem if you deny it exists."
"What problem? I was just having some fun that's all.."
"Having fun is different. Is there some sort of anxiety or tension causing you to drink more?"
He looked at the ground in deep thought. "Well I gotta admit I drank extra yesterday cuz of that Arnold kid."
Hearing the name "Arnold" wanted to make Helga smile, but she kept it in. "Arnold?"
"Yeah Arnold, remember him? You used to make fun of him when we were kids- Football head I think you called him-"
"Oh Nevermind that! So what's this thing with Mr. Arnold?"
He looked at her confused for a second. "Huh? Oh yeah, I hit a grand slam off him, and then a home run- you shoulda seen the look on his face."
She smiled. "That's ridiculous! All in one night?"
He smiled. "Yeah- and so I was walking to the showers with one of my teammates who was happy for me and by accident he said I "own" Arnold- and it turns out the guy was standing behind us the whole time!"
She raised an eyebrow. "Really?" She began to write things down on the clipboard while listening to Gerald as he babbled on and on.
He got up and started to walk around the room. "Yeah! So then he starts arguing with me about how we "used" to be friends or something, and says he taped our whole conversation and is going to take me to court! Can you believe that? Some friend!"
"Seems hard to believe, at least from what I remember him."
"I thought he was a nice kid, but I guess people change."
She looked at him. "Anyways, this session isn't about Arnold it's about your problem."
Gerald looked at her confused. "What Problem??" He stormed out of her office, slamming the door behind him.
Helga stared at the closed door and sighed. "I hate it when these childhood acquaintances come back to haunt me." She picked up the phone and called one of her secretaries. "Yeah Kristy? So you saw the patient leave? I know, I blew it again...Thanks, and as of now I'm not here okay? Take a message for me." She hung up the phone and held her forehead. Why does this 'Arnold' always have to be such a problem she thought. Oh well at least he's not my problem this time! Smiling Helga picked up her stuff and left her office. Walking to her car in the parking lot she noticed an accident in the distance. She figured it might be caused by a drunk driver, and as an addictions counselor it might be one of her patients.
She thought about one of her patients that just stormed out, with a fair amount of alcohol in him. "Oh shit Gerald!" Helga jumped into her car and drove to the accident scene, carefully…
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E@@ Hmm so tell me what you think? I know this is a very biased story, but hey I'm a Mets fan, and I'm the writer here. LoL! Nah I'm kidding. Aight so tell me what u think- Email me- review- Instant Message Me
!!Eudial!!
