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ERWIN 35
He let out a frustrated sigh. He couldn’t go through the whole explanation again. He needed to take
another tack.
“Look, we’re only down two. Is putting a guy on here really the best move?”
“This is the spot to retaliate,” Blackburn said, his tone leaving little room for compromise. He locked eyes
with Ryan, who looked away first.
“Let me help you with your decision,” Blackburn said. “You don’t want to hit your buddy? Fine. But don’t
expect anyone on this team to talk to you. Whether you’re in the dugout, the bullpen, the clubhouse, the
bus, the plane – silence. When we’re on the road, you will go to dinner alone. During batting practice, you’ll
shag balls in left field all by yourself. When you blow a game, I won’t tell the press that you had good stuff
but just missed your location by a hair on one or two pitches.
“You understand what I’m saying to you?”
Ryan squeezed his lips together like he was trying to keep a particularly pesky bug from getting in his
mouth. He averted his eyes from Blackburn, but everywhere he turned a Blue Jay stared at him. These
were his teammates now. BB was not.
The umpire arrived, his stroll there so casual Ryan wondered if he’d stopped to pick up dinner along the
way.
“All right, let’s get this moving, fellas,” the umpire said. If he detected any tension in the meeting, he didn’t
say so.
“Sorry, blue,” Blackburn said, suddenly sounding as perky as someone a quarter his age. “New guy, just
making sure we’re all on the same page.”
He smiled at the ump, then turned back to Ryan.
“Go get ‘em, new guy.”
ISSUE 4 | SUMMER 2021