warnings: baseball jargon ...

updated: 4/28/2013, 3/13/2014

2. Change-Up

The next morning, Jack walked into Neo Domino Stadium and reported to the front office. He was immediately ushered into Jaeger's office.

Jaeger started without waiting for Jack to say anything. "I'd like to welcome you to the team. All the paperwork has been forwarded to your agent … uh, Rex Godwin, I believe his name is?"

"Yeah …" Rex Godwin was actually the brother of the Jack's former GM. A little meddlesome, but it had worked out all right … until now, at least.

"Right. I want you to report directly to the Trainers' Room for a look-over and treatment. I want you in top shape for your next start."

"Sure, Mr Jaeger."

"And … I want you to report before the game for a formal introduction to the team. … Oh, and one more thing. We sent a pretty popular pitcher to the minors to make room for you, so be prepared for a little guff at first."

Great. Figures.

Jack traipsed on down to the Trainers' Room where he met a Dr Schmidt.

"You look in top shape," he commented, pointing Jack to the whirlpool. "We're going to give you some time in there, a little stim and warmth, then some warm-up and massage, but nothing special. If I may ask, what did Jaeger trade for you?"

"I'm not sure. You'd have to ask him. I think it was a couple of draft picks and minor leaguers. Oh, and cash. I don't think Jaeger wanted to change up the team much during the pennant run."

"You got that right," smiled Schmidt. "It's a great team with great chemistry. I think you'll like it."

Jack smiled back at the man. This guy seemed to like him all right, he thought. But he wasn't as positive about how he would get on with the team. After all, rival team, the pitcher they all, up until a moment ago, hated the guts of? Wouldn't it be hard to adjust?

But they were all adults. And … he was also admired.

And envied.

He sighed and settled into the whirlpool.

"What are you doing here?!"

Jack opened his eyes. "Oh. Hi," he said. "Bommer. Pleased to meet you." He extended a large hand toward the catcher. "I guess you didn't hear. I've been traded to the Dragons. It'll be great working with a first-class catcher like—"

"What, are they insane?! I was finally making progress with Saiga and now all of that's straight out the window!"

How did he know it was Saiga who was—well, maybe it was obvious he'd be the one …

Jack sighed and dropped his hand. "I guess I'll talk to you later then," he said, watching Bommer storm out the door, doubtless in the direction of Jaeger's office. "Whatever." He closed his eyes again and settled back.

Was everyone going to be that way about it? he wondered. Even that rookie shortstop, the one they called Professor Putout? The kid had seemed to take his razzing the previous night as some sort of put-down, but Jack had loved the way Yusei had challenged him, taking him to his limit. He messed the most with the people who mattered, but the rookie wouldn't know that. It would be a shame if he took the wrong attitude about this change-up.

While he was lying on a massage table, now clad in the bottom half of his baseball uniform, with hot packs covering his shoulder and left arm, a young man walked in and did a double-take.

"Ah! Mr Atlas! I heard you're with the team now!" he said excitedly. "C-can I get your autograph? —Not now, of course, for sure, you're busy, but later, any time of course, I'm the bat boy, so you can do it whenever. My name's Rua."

Jack had to restrain himself from laughing at the boy's ardent enthusiasm. At least someone in the dugout was happy to see him there. "Sure, Rua," he said. "Just remind me later on."

"This is so great! We're a shoo-in for the pennant now! We've got the best fielding, and now we have the pitcher with the best ERA … and you can hit, too! This is … this is epic!"

Jack didn't bother restraining himself this time and laughed outright. "You really think so?"

"Yeah, I do."

He hadn't really thought about it that way yet. Even if they all hated him, the winning part … that would make up for just about everything else. And if they could increase his winning percentage … let them increase their whining percentage. See if he cared.

Yusei walked into the clubhouse and was immediately pelted with a rolled up sports-page. "Where the hell have you been all day?" demanded Crow.

"I had errands! I didn't have to report until now."

"You're usually early. Fine time to be on time," he groused. "Obviously you haven't bothered to look at a paper. All day!"

"No. Why? What's the big …" Yusei's eyes grew in size. Clearly something was up. His hand dived for the paper, but it was too late, the big deal walked into the clubhouse.

And he was a big deal. As in 6-5.

"Hi, Rook, didn't think I'd be seeing you again so soon," he grinned.

The guy was already outfitted in a fresh Crimson Dragon uniform, red jersey, nice, crisp whites with fine red pinstripes … and he wore it well, choosing to cut his pants at the calf, his stirrups high, but not too high … it set off his long, finely-muscled calves perfectly.

And the red of the Crimson Dragons' cap set off his sunshine-blond hair so much better than the blue-and-black of the Immortals. Those tendrils of hair made famous in dozens of shampoo ads looked even more shiny in person, lying over a crescent of red jersey and his broad white-clad chest.

Not that Yusei was noticing or anything.

"Neither did I," Yusei groused, picking up the thread of their greetings. "Guess you'll be an asset. Don't hit a slump just for us, dude."

"I don't plan on it. Don't you make any fall vacation plans," he smiled, strutting off in the direction of the field. "Pardon me, I have some laps to do."

Crow scowled after him. "If he just weren't so damn … superior … about everything. He's only been in the majors—what, two, three years?—and he acts like he owns the place."

"What pitcher acts like he loves running laps?" asked Yusei. "That's just not … normal."

"Eh," Crow shrugged. "Get dressed. You'll be late for fungo-rama."

Author's notes:

4/28/2013: Corrected interrobangs since they are now allowed.

3/13/2014: Removed an artifact left over from an early draft.

Thought I'd probably better define some of the baseball terms! :) I'm hoping that it's readable even if you're not that familiar with baseball, but you never know! I'm not getting as many reads with this, so ... maybe the setting's putting people off of it. Nevertheless, I like my double-entendres, so I'm forging forward. Maybe I will keep it short. It might be a cozy group, though, guys ...

GM: General Manager. The guy who runs the team as far as putting the team together and running operations. The Manager or "skipper" runs the team on the field.

stim: Electrical stimulation therapy for muscles. Helps heal them.

ERA: Earned run average. Basically, a measure of how good a pitcher is. The lower the ERA, the fewer runs he lets in, so the better the pitcher.

As in 6-5: Since this is baseball, which uses feet/inches, etc., I thought I'd be consistent. (Six feet, five inches; don't know if this is about how tall Jack is supposed to be, but it's tall and a good height for a pitcher.)

fungo: a ball tossed by hand into the air and then hit with the bat, in this case, for fielding practice.

Next time:

They ate in silence for a little while before Rex spoke up again, saying, "About that girlfriend of yours, Jack …"

"What about her?" Jack said, annoyed.

"When are you going to let her down?"

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