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Chapter 9: Touch ‘Em All!
 By Jim Caple |
Previously at 24 College Avenue: It’s pretty complicated but many of the residents are in Los Angeles at the game where the controversial slugger known as The Asterisk has just hit a ball into the bleachers to break the all-time home run record. State College cheerleader Lacey V. Murrow-Bridge, who has been missing much of the summer, has just run onto the field after him, followed by Gray Sharbor (general manager of the Lumberview Timber Barons) and Jenn Robbins, who has a summer gig as the Lumberview’s mascot, Woody the Checkered Owl. . . . Meanwhile, a very drunk Josh Williams is in the bleachers with Magdalena along with the world-famous celebrity couple known as Wal-Mart and their many adopted children. Josh desperately needs to win his bet on The Asterisk to make up for money Magdalen a gambled away in Vegas. . . . Photographer Steve Hamilton is covering the game for the New York Journal-American . . .
The Asterisk and his teammates often thought about how vulnerable they were, exposed on an open field in front of tens of thousands of strangers. That they might as well be wearing bulls-eyes. That the biggest upset in sports was no athlete had been killed by a crazed fan during a game.
But they almost never gave voice to these thoughts, fearing that just speaking of the possibility would only increase its likelihood. They certainly never talked about their fears with the media and only rarely discussed them with each other. Even the night several years ago when police arrested a fan who was in possession of a handgun, seven bullets and 322 baseball cards of The Asterisk, they mostly avoided the topic. It was just too frightening.
So when the occasional (usually drunk) fan jumped out of the stands during games, the players simply ignored him and waited for security guards to intervene. Which is what The Asterisk should have done when, rounding second base during his record home run trot, he noticed three fans chasing after him. But the sight was so bizarre that he froze momentarily. The beautiful young blonde who had been trying to get his attention the entire game was in the lead. Close behind her was a man who looked vaguely familiar, and he in turn was followed by another young woman wearing some sort of strange bird costume. And, The Asterisk quickly noticed, there were no security guards behind them.
As the three drew closer, The Asterisk began to backpedal toward third base with the words he has so often spoken to reporters bothering him at his locker. “Get the @#&% away from me!!!’’ he shouted. “Whoever you are, stay away!’’
The words had no effect.
“Kiss me, Asterisk!’’ Lacey shouted. “Kiss me!’’
“Stay away from him!’’ Sharbor yelled at Lacey. “Don’t you dare touch him! He’s mine!’’
“Where the hell are the security guards?’’ Jenn yelled as she neared the three.
The Asterisk was still backpedaling and nearing third base when Lacey leaped onto him as if she were a catcher jumping into a pitcher’s arms after the final out of the World Series. At the same moment, Sharbor slowed slightly to reach into the pocket of his Timber Barons team jacket. Seeing the motion, Jenn decided she had to act.
# # #
The Commish wasn’t sure what to think but the situation didn’t look dangerous. Everything had appeared to be going exactly as planned. The disturbance had distracted the security guards and allowed the crazed fan to chase after The Asterisk. But there was only supposed to be one fan. Where did the second one come from? And where the hell did the owl come from?
This is either going to end very badly, he thought, or better than I ever imagined.
# # #
“What is happening?’’ Magdalena asked Josh in the right field bleachers. “Is part of homer run ritual?’’
“Nahhhhhhh, isssssnnaaaa rigghh’’ Josh slurred, uncertain of what exactly he was really seeing after 14 innings of beer and schnapps.
“I want home run ball!’’
Josh glanced groggily to his left, where Wal-Mart and the celebrity couple’s dozen adopted children were sitting. The couple had bought out most of the section in the hope that they would catch several home runs to give their new children but they had been skunked. This was the seventh home run of the game but all seven landed in left and center field. The historic 756th home run had landed past the 410 sign where fans were fighting desperately for it.
“Get me home run ball!’’ screamed Betelgeuse, the oldest of the children at 13. “I want home run ball!’’
“Shush, honey!’’ his mother told him. “We’ll get one next game.’’
“I want ball NOW!!!!’’ Betelgeuse screamed again. He had initially embraced his adoption. A new life with the world’s most famous and beautiful couple instead of a life begging on the streets in Bangladesh? H didn’t need to think twice about that. But lately he was regretting the decision. He resented the new name they gave him and he desperately missed his friends in Chittagong. He was homesick and tired and saw the lack of a home run as another broken promise. “I will get ball!!!’’
With that, he hopped over the outfield fence and began running toward The Asterisk. His adopted brothers, Kampala, Zagreb and Kilimanjaro, quickly followed him. And as they did, a terrible thought fought its way through the drunken fog swirling around Josh’s brain. A home run wasn’t official until the batter crossed the plate which meant he wouldn’t be able to collect his winning bets if all the people chasing the Asterisk somehow prevented him from completely rounding the bases.
So Josh jumped over the fence as well.
# # #
Jenn had planned to tackle Sharbor but she had forgotten that the wings in her owl costume allowed only limited movement. All she wound up doing was bumping into the back of him and then flopping to the infield. It was enough to distract the general manager, though.
“What the hell—Jenn?’’ he said, looking down at his team’s mascot. “What are you doing here?’’
“Stopping you,’’ she said, scrambling to her feet and rushing him again. “I know all about you and The Asterisk. And I’m not gonna let you hurt him.’’
“You don’t understand at all, Jenn!’’ he shouted. “I have to do this! Baseball needs me to do this!!!’’
Sharbor pushed Jenn away and turned back to The Asterisk, who was still trying to wriggle out of Lacey’s embrace. He took a step forward and reached into his pocket again.
# # #
For the first time in his 50-plus years in broadcasting, the most famous Voice in sports was speechless.
The Voice declined to spice up his standard home run call with idiotic, pop-cultural references as so many others would do to draw attention to themselves. The Voice was as old school as a worn Pee-Chee covered with junior high doodles and love notes. When The Asterisk hit the pitch, he began the call as he always did.
“Swung on and belted deep to center . . . This one is going . . . going . . . GONE! Baseball has a new Home Run King!’’
That’s when things got complicated.
The Voice had seen a lot of strange things during his long and illustrious career but never anything as bizarre as this. Not even the night when the dwarf pinch-hitter walked on four pitches and was replaced by a pinch-runner with a wood leg who claimed that leaving the prosthetic limb on first base allowed him to legally take an 80-foot lead.
So when The Asterisk’s home run trot was interrupted by several fans racing onto the field and chasing behind him, the Voice was so nonplussed that there was nearly a minute of dead air on his broadcast.
“Fans, can you believe what you’re seeing? Because I can’t,’’ he finally stammered, forgetting that he was on radio. “The Asterisk has just broken the all-time home run record with a powerful clout into the center field bleachers. A riot appears to have broken out for the ball, the worth of which has been estimated at a minimum of $1 million. Meanwhile, The Asterisk is trying to finish his home run trot but he is being chased by a young blond woman, a man in a baseball jacket and someone wearing an owl costume. The blond has leaped into his arms and the man and the owl are fighting. Oh, and three children are running onto the field from the bleachers, with a drunk man staggering behind them. And is that tear gas in center field?’’
It was. Security might have been slow to react to the people chasing The Asterisk but it had reacted with undo force in centerfield to break up the fans fighting for the precious home run ball. Not that a lone tear gas container made much of a difference amid the eye-gouging, finger-breaking, genital-pinching and ferocious biting at the bottom of the pile.
“Oh the humanity,’’ the Voice cried to his listeners.
# # #
The Asterisk finally was able to shed Lacey near third base, agreeing to let her kiss him briefly. Just as she did, Sharbor plowed into them both.
“I won’t let you hurt him!’’ Sharbor shouted at Lacey. “He’s the greatest player of all time! He’s my hero! And he’s been my hero since we were with the Lumberview Timber Barons!!!’’
The Lumberview Timber Barons? Suddenly The Asterisk recognized Sharbor. He was the kid who had been the team’s bat boy and mascot his first year in pro ball.
“Gray is that you?’’ he asked. “What the @#&% are you doing on the field?’’
“I needed to protect you,’’ he said. “And I needed to give you this!’’
Sharbor pulled an object from his pocket – was it a gun? A knife? some other weapon? Jenn couldn’t see but she needed to do something, and quickly. She slammed into the GM again. “No, don’t do it!!!!’’ she cried as the two tumbled to the ground.
“Jenn, you don’t understand,’’ Sharbor said. “You’ll ruin everything!’’
The blow had jarred the object from Sharbor’s grip and he scrambled for it frantically as it rolled away. As he reached for it with his right hand, Jenn finally was able to clearly see what the “weapon’’ was.
It was an old autographed baseball. Had she been able to read the inscription before Sharbor closed his fist around the ball, she would have seen the words The Asterisk had written more than 20 years earlier: “To Gray: -- Maybe this will be worth something when I’m the home run king.’’
# # #
Steve thought about running onto the field and helping Jenn but only briefly. Then his instincts as a photo-journalist kicked in and he began snapping so many pictures it was a wonder he didn’t develop carp tunnel syndrome. Adrenaline surged through his body as he captured images of The Asterisk rounding the bases ahead of a trio of pursuers, Lacey leaping into The Asterisk’s arms, Lacey kissing him on the lips, Jenn and her general manager wrestling on the ground . . .
He heard a cry from the outfield. He swung around with the instincts of a seasoned war correspondent and focused his camera for five quick shots, then returned to the melee at third base.
God, Steve thought, I hope they leave enough room for all these pictures.
# # #
The adopted brothers and Josh ran halfway across the outfield before the first security guard felled Betelgeuse with a blindside tackle. His partners quickly brought down Zagreb and Kilimanjaro in the next couple seconds.
Josh attempted to dodge a fourth security guard but he was too drunk. Instead, he tripped and fell onto the guard who had tackled Betelgeuse. “Awwwwwwhhhhhhgggg!’’ he cried out, just before throwing up on the guard, who responded by releasing Betelgeuse and rolling away from the messy vomit.
“See? No worries,’’ Magdalena said to Wal-Mart in the bleachers. “Josh is rescuing your sons from secret police.’’
# # #
The Voice regained his composure as The Asterisk broke away from Lacey and ran to home plate so fast it was as if he was completing an inside-the-park home run.
“Baseball’s new home run king has just crossed home plate, jumping on the dish as emphatically as a driver hitting the brakes to avoid an accident,’’ the Voice said. “As well he should, because there is a veritable trainwreck trailing him. While family and teammates surround the new king and congratulate him, the rest of this bizarre train is pulling into the station. There is the blonde kissing bandit. And the older man who chased her. And the woman in the owl costume who chased him. And chasing all of them is the caboose of a half-dozen security guards who are taking action -- finally.
“Fans, if you’re scoring this at home, it’s history for the home run king, a colossal error on security and an absolute debacle for the commissioner.’’
# # #
To the contrary, The Commish was quite pleased with everything.
As he surveyed the wild scene from his boxseat, his smile was so broad it could blind at 20 paces. He had taken a considerable risk and there had been some unforeseen circumstances but his plan had worked perfectly. He could see the morning headlines already, knowing exactly how the predictable media would portray this. And best of all was an unforeseen circumstance – a delightful added bonus -- even he could not have imagined. For as he looked down the left field line, The Commish saw that the third baseman had noticed the same detail.
In all the chaos of his home run trot, The Asterisk had missed third base.
# # #
Not again, Josh thought.
For the second time this summer, Josh found himself in a holding cell inside the bowels of an historic baseball stadium. The first time was in Chicago when the fans at the ”Friendly Confines’’ had forced him to throw a home run ball back onto the field, accidentally hitting The Asterisk in the head. This time he had been tackled, handcuffed and dragged away after running onto the field from the right field bleachers. He had done so in a drunken stupor while fearing that all the others chasing The Asterisk would prevent the slugger from successfully completing his home run trot.
“Well, at least I won my bets,’’ Josh said by way of consolation. “The Asterisk broke the home run record in the game I bet on. Now Magdalena and I will be able to replace the tour’s travel fund. That’s the important thing. I just need to figure out a way to cash in the winning slips.’’
“Ummmm, I think I have some bad news for you,’’ said Jenn, who was sitting in the cell across from her housemate. “Did you see what happened after The Asterisk crossed home plate?’’
“No. I was busy being dragged off the field. Why?’’
“It turns out that in all the confusion, he didn’t touch third base,’’ Jenn said. “So he was called out and the home run was scored a double. He went ballistic and charged the umpire and got thrown out of the game. So he’s still tied for the record.’’
Josh stared at Jenn in disbelief for a few minutes, then banged his head against the wall of the cell. “I can’t @#$& believe it,’’ he said. “Why does this always happen to me?’’
“Hey, it’s OK,’’ Jenn said, placing her wing around Josh’s shoulder. “He’ll get it in the next couple games. Unless the Commish suspends him. But he’ll eventually break the record.’’
“That doesn’t matter,’’ Josh said. “I needed him to break it tonight to win the bet.’’
With that, Josh explained the whole situation. How Magdalena had gambled away the travel fund for Josh’s tour group, “America in an SUV,’’ during a stop in Vegas. How Josh had placed five bets at high odds that The Asterisk would break the record that night. How he and Magdalena needed to win the bet to pay off the money she had lost. How they now were going to have to confess and at best lose their jobs and possibly go to jail.
Jenn didn’t know what to say. The way Josh described the situation, it seemed hopeless. She wished she could help him but she had her own troubles. Which reminded her, why wasn’t Sharbor in the cell with them?
# # #
The Commish couldn’t be happier as he sat in his hotel suite, reading the early headlines on the websites and grinning with satisfaction. As he expected, all the major newspapers and websites were ripping him for the poor security provided for The Asterisk.
“Overseeing the most embarrassing incident in sports takes some doing this summer of dog-fighting quarterbacks and point-shaving referees but baseball’s commissioner pulled off the upset,’’ the New York Journal American reported. “Fortunately, no one was hurt. But what if The Asterisk had been killed? In this time of terrorism, it is a travesty that The Commish did not properly prepare for adequate security.’’
As the Commish read on, he saw that each news organization was holding him personally responsible for the chaotic night. Which, in fact, he was. It was on his orders that the security forces held back so long. His plan was to create an incident that would turn The Asterisk into a sympathetic figure, and what could accomplish that better than a league commissioner who placed a player’s life in danger with inadequate security?
So his risky but well-planned and carefully-executed plot had worked perfectly. He had hired Gray Sharbor to disrupt the record-breaking home run trot. Knowing that the minor league general manager was obsessed with The Asterisk, he had convinced him that there was a plot to murder the player as he neared the record. The Commish even provided him with an order form for a rifle and scope that were purportedly purchased by a crazed fan. From there, it was an easy matter convincing Sharbor that by chasing after The Asterisk during his home run trot, he would be helping his hero.
“I’ll look like the villain,’’ the Commish told him. “Fans will blame me and they’ll sympathize with The Asterisk as a misunderstood victim.’’
Sharbor had played his role perfectly and the Commish rewarded him by whisking him away from security guards after the game and assuring him a low-level job in the league’s marketing wing that would buy his silence. That the cheerleader and the Owl also ran onto the field only made it that much better by turning the event into a three-ring circus.
And now he would further rally fans to The Asterisk’s cause by suspending for a week for charging the umpire. By the time the suspension was up, everyone would be in the slugger’s corner, rooting for him to break the record if only to make the Commish look bad.
Sure, it wasn’t fun being considered a national joke but the Commish didn’t mind. He deeply loved baseball and if this is what it took to get fans excited about the home run record, to restore luster to the greatest record in sports – if this is what fans needed to root on a thoroughly dislikeable character -- well, that was his job, wasn’t it? That’s why the owners paid him $14 million a year. So what if his reputation was dragged through the mud? Baseball always came first to the Commish. And as long as it was good for the game, that’s all that was important to him.
# # #
The chief of stadium security walked into the holding area and rattled the cell.
“Looks like it’s your lucky day,’’ he said. “Someone vouched for you.’’
“Really?’’ Josh said, looking up. “Who?’’
The guard shook his head and pointed to Jenn. “Not you. The Owl. Some guy from the Hall of Fame said to release you.’’
The guy was Edmond Kingston, the media relations director for the Hall. A significant part of his job was traveling to each historic baseball game to secure a piece of memorabilia to take back to Cooperstown. Normally, the players were honored to donate a bat, ball, cap, glove, jersey or even a pair of spikes to the Hall. Not The Asterisk. He had already set aside every piece of memorabilia – he had even worn a different cap and jersey each inning of the game – to auction off on his website. That left the Hall wanting.
”So,’’ Kingston explained to Jenn when she was released, “with nothing else available I’m turning to you to commemorate this historic night.’’
“You mean I’m going to Cooperstown?’’
“No, not you personally. Just your owl costume.’’
# # #
Lacey V. Murrow-Bridge never intended to become a national celebrity but once it happened, she decided to make the best of it.
She didn’t mean for people to worry about her when she abruptly left band camp that night. She simply had grown so nervous about her upcoming wedding that she could think of nothing better to do than get away from everything. It wasn’t that she didn’t love her fiancé; in fact she loved him desperately. But she was only 22.and suddenly feared that she wasn’t ready for marriage. Why had she rushed into the engagement? Why hadn’t she taken their time to explore life a little more? Date other guys? Travel the world a bit? Meet someone rich?
So she ran, planning to stay away only long enough to do one rash, frivolous, stupid thing so that she could feel as if she had at least experienced a little bit of life outside what was expected of her.
She swore her best friend, Mandy Stevenson, to secrecy and fled camp, not realizing how a beautiful cheerleader’s sudden disappearance in the mid-summer doldrums would send the national media into a feeding frenzy. By the time she realized the enormity of it all, it was too late. She was too scared to admit to everything.
Instead, she secretly contacted her fiancée. Once he calmed down and stopped yelling, he came up with an idea that would make it all worth while. She would stay in hiding and follow through on her plan. By then the media would have publicized her so much that Hollywood would come rushing to the door with offers for her story. They would sell the TV and movie rights for so much money that they would be set for life. Neither would ever have to work. They could travel the world.
And that’s what she did. While Mandy lied just enough when questioned by the police to mislead the investigators, Lacey made her way to Los Angeles with a fake ID and went to the stadium to perform her rash act:
Kissing The Asterisk during his record home run trot.
She not only did so, she didn’t even get smacked around the way security treated most people who ran onto the field. Once they realized who she was, security treated her as if she were a visiting celebrity, which by our current societal standards, she was. They didn’t handcuff her, they didn’t even charge her. Instead, they took turns holding her hand, posing for photos, asking for autographs and finally leading her to a separate holding area where she was reunited with her fiancé in front of the full media.
And as the cameras flashed and the news anchors broke in with breathless reports, her agent was already fielding offers for her story.
She and her fiancé would be married and it looked as if they would live happily ever after. Or at least richly for a couple years before splitting in an ugly divorce.
Of course, it all came at a considerable price. Before receiving any money, Lacey had to go on Larry King for an interview.
# # #
“All right,’ the security chief said, unlocking the cell. “Looks like you can go home, too. Frankly, I would leave you in here to rot but there is no talking sense with these celebrity types.’’
Josh picked up his hoody and shuffled out of the cell and to freedom. When the door to the waiting area was opened, Josh found Magdalena, Wal-Mart and their many adopted children waiting for him.
“Magdalena,’’ he said, hugging her. “How did you convince them to let me go?’’
“It is Wallace and Martina who do it,’’ Magdalena said. “I tell how you run onto field to rescue children. How you risk your freedom to save Betelgeuse, Kilimanjaro and – I sorry, I forget name of third boy?’’
“Zagreb,’’ Wallace said, patting the child on the head..
“Yes, Zagreb. How you try to save all three from secret police,’’
Josh was confused, an easy course of events even when he was sober, which she still wasn’t. “But I didn’t try to rescue—‘’ Magdalena kissed him on the mouth before he could speak further and ruin everything.
“My hero,’’ she said after the passionate kiss, turning to Wal-Mart. “Our hero, yes?’’
“Yes. Our hero,’’ Martina nodded. “As soon as we got our sweet darlings released from the cell area for juveniles, we rushed here to spring our knight in shining armor. Of course, it would have been more heroic had you actually saved them before they were arrested instead of simply vomiting on the security guards, but you can’t have everything in life. Look at my last movie. And at least you made the effort. So Wallace and I decided to reward your bravery by taking care of this little gambling problem of yours.’’ She pulled a thick wad of hundred dollar bulls from her travel bag and handed the money toward Magdalena. “Would this cover your debt?’’
Magdalena grabbed the cash and stuffed it into her pocket before Josh could say anything.
“Yes, is plenty, plus a little extra for gasoline,’’ Magdalena said. “Thank you so much for your kindness. You have saved us from losing jobs and government deporting me.’’
“Our pleasure,’ Wallace said. “What is the good of celebrity if you can’t spread a little goodwill around the world? Darfur, Chechnya, the right field bleachers . . . wherever we see people in need, we do our best to help.’’
Still confused as to how his problems were suddenly on a parallel with the victims of genocide in Darfur, Josh was about to say something but caught the look from Magdalena in time to realize that he should just say thank you.
And frankly, that would have been much better than what he wound up doing, which was throwing up on them.
Next: End of the Line
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