Rivals (2010) (12 page)

AS THE WEEK WENT
on, the weather stayed nice—bright blue skies, puffy clouds, and warm afternoon sun washed over the mountains, woods, and baseball fields. Whether they hit home runs or dropped pop flies, the players all found their eyes drawn over and over to the college scouts who wore caps from their various universities and jotted down endless notes.

Josh and the Titans won their second game, overcoming the Toronto Eagles and Chase Corcoran’s slider. Josh was surprised when he looked up into the stands during the game to see Mickey Mullen Jr. scouting the Titans, but instead of being a distraction, Josh used the rival’s presence to spur him on to another stellar performance. By the time it was over, Josh had hit five home runs between the first two
games, resulting in several interviews for television stations as well as newspapers. The matchup between his bat and Mickey Mullen Jr.’s pitching seemed to be growing into a major story.

Wednesday afternoon the entire Dream Park was abuzz with news of Mickey Jr.’s no-hitter that morning and the Comets’ advancement to the semifinals. Josh felt the challenge and rose to the occasion himself in their afternoon quarterfinal game against a team from Dallas. Josh went three for four, belting two out of the park and helping to get the Titans one game closer to the big matchup. After the game, a man in sunglasses and a faded denim shirt and jeans approached Josh.

“Some game, buddy,” the man said. “At least the Mullen kid might have some competition somewhere in this thing. I’m Stu Lisson. I’m a producer for Bob Costas.”

The man named Stu angled his head over his shoulder at field seven—the place where Mickey Jr. had pitched his no-hitter for the Comets earlier in the day—but Josh forgot about his rival, feeling instead a pulse of excitement at the name Bob Costas, one of the most famous sports announcers ever.

“We’re doing a piece on Mickey Mullen and his son for HBO,” Stu said. “The kid is something. You heard about that no-hitter he pitched this morning, right?”

“Yeah,” Josh said flatly. “I heard about it.”

“Incredible. But we keep hearing about you Titans guys, too, and you in particular,” Stu said. “Five home runs in two games? And then we were over there shooting some B-roll and I heard you got two more today? And that scar.”

Josh touched the smooth ridge beneath his eye.

“Did you really have a plate put in your face just so you could play?” Stu asked.

Josh nodded, thinking how it would look on TV.

Stu got a faraway look in his eyes and seemed to have read Josh’s mind when he said, “See, that’s great. Shows how much you love this game. Bob loves a kid with passion for the sport. So, we know it’s not certain, but if you win the next one and the Comets stay on track, it’ll be you guys facing off in the championship. Bob wants to get a counterpoint to Mickey Junior for the show. A rival. Make it like some kind of monster movie, you know?”

Josh felt his scar again, wondering if he meant Josh looked like a monster.

“King Kong versus Godzilla?” Stu said, without seeming to notice Josh’s discomfort. “Predator versus Alien? People love that stuff. Someone told me that your dad used to play a little baseball too, so that could be another nice angle. Rich vs. Poor. Famous vs. the Unknown.”

“He played for thirteen years in the pros,” Josh said, forgetting his scar and raising his chin. “Now he’s our coach.”

Stu began to smile, then nodded seriously. “In the minors, right? It doesn’t matter. The thing is you two kids. Both of you pretty advanced for your ages. Both with dads who…played. So, we’re thinking—if you keep winning—a kind of round table interview with you two and Bob for
Inside Sports
. What do you think?”

JOSH’S PARENTS SAID THAT
of course he could do the interview, but his dad wasn’t as excited as Josh thought he’d be about Josh meeting and being interviewed for HBO by Bob Costas.

“Oh, Costas is great,” his dad said on the bus ride back to the camp. “One of my favorite announcers. A legend. But that media stuff is harder than it looks.”

“What?” Josh said. “You just answer the questions, be yourself. What could be hard?”

His dad gave him a funny look, then shrugged. “Well, if you’re gonna be in the big leagues one day, you might as well learn the ropes right now. It’s a great opportunity. Bob Costas and HBO is about as big as it gets. We have to beat the South Carolina team in the semifinals first, though. If nothing else, it’ll give you a good incentive.”

“Come on, Dad,” Josh said. “Winning is all the incentive I need, right?”

His dad smiled hard at that and nodded his approval.

The next day it rained, but the tournament had built two days into the schedule for just such possibilities, so it was no big deal. Josh’s dad had the team bus take them all on a trip to the Farmers’ Museum. While everyone groaned about it at first, they actually ended up enjoying the trip because of a real live blacksmith who put on a show with sparks and steam and red-hot iron. Afterward they all went to the Southside Mall in Oneonta for a movie before returning to the camp for dinner.

Josh and his family sat down with Jaden and her dad along with Benji, but Jaden said few words. It wasn’t until afterward, when Benji had returned to the cabin to use the bathroom and Josh waited with Jaden for her limo ride to yet another media party, that he was able to quiz her on what she’d found out during the day.

“Nothing from Mickey Junior or his dad,” Jaden said, shaking her head and looking off into the meadow, where fireflies blinked in the high grass. “They spent most of the day in their suite playing Xbox Three-sixty with all kinds of people hanging around. Neither said a word about Seevers, and I didn’t even see Myron. Honestly, Josh? In their game yesterday, if I didn’t know about what you saw? I would never have guessed there
was some kind of bribery going on. I mean, he made a couple questionable calls, but nothing anyone went crazy about.”

Josh frowned and said, “Yeah, but they blew that team away, right? It would make sense that he only makes the calls if they need him to. Kind of an insurance policy to make sure they win for the whole media show. It’s like making a movie for Mickey Mullen. You gotta admit that it’s strange that he’d be the umpire for all the Comets games to begin with.”

“Right,” she said, “so I looked into Seevers a bit. First of all, I didn’t even know this, but there are no standards or anything for umpires in Little League Baseball. It’s just whoever’s done it before and at local levels. A lot of times that’s just high school kids or dads who’re willing to put up with the grief. I talked to a couple people around town and the word on the guy is that he inherited that house from his dead wife’s family and doesn’t put a dime into it. He runs a ski resort down in Pennsylvania, then he heads off to Las Vegas and usually loses everything he made before coming here for the summer.”

Jaden looked around to scope out the shadows surrounding them before continuing. “Seevers umpires while he’s here to make extra money, been doing it for years, and all of a sudden the head umpire for the tournament bailed out. Seevers made a big pitch for the job and he’d been umping summer games for years, so they
gave it to him. Because he’s the head umpire, he controls the schedule, so it’s easy to make sure he works all the Comets games. I’m sure people figure he does it just to be around the excitement, the cameras and all that, not to cheat. Also, I checked the snow reports from last winter and I’m betting Seevers
really
needs the money this year because temperatures were the warmest they’ve been in twenty-seven years and the snow total was half what it normally is.”

“So,” Josh said. “He lives in a run-down house with its own graveyard, he gambles and usually loses, and we think that somehow Mickey Mullen offered him something he couldn’t refuse. Money.”

Jaden shrugged and looked up at the star-filled sky.

“And all the guy has to do is make a couple really crappy calls,” Josh said, “which happens all the time anyway.”

“Only not on purpose,” Jaden said, directing her stare at him. “I don’t know, Josh. Even with all the circumstantial evidence, we still need to prove it. That’s the key.”

“How’d you find out all this stuff, anyway?” Josh asked.

“I keep telling you,” Jaden said. “I’m a reporter.”

“Right,” Josh said, nodding. “I know that. Like Bob Costas.”

“I met him,” Jaden said.

“Was he nice?” Josh asked.

“Yes,” she said, “but it’s like he’s so smart he can look right into your head and see the wheels turning.”

“Great,” Josh said. “That’s all I need, a guy looking right through me in a TV interview.”

“You’re nervous?” Jaden asked as the headlight beams from the approaching limo flashed across them.

“I wasn’t,” Josh said, touching his scar. “Then my dad gave me this ‘It’s a lot harder than it looks’ speech. Mickey Junior grew up with the cameras in his face. I don’t want to look like some goofball sitting there choking on my own spit.”

“Just breathe deep,” Jaden said as the car pulled to a stop and the driver got out to open the door. “That’s what they say, anyway.”

“And this scar,” Josh said.

“You’ll be fine,” Jaden said, sliding into the backseat.

“Sure. Have fun,” Josh said.

“It’s work, really,” Jaden said. “You don’t get that, but thanks.”

The driver closed the door, rounded the car, and the limo pulled away. Benji appeared, still drying his hands on a wad of paper towels.

Benji stared at the car until it disappeared around the bend, then said, “You ever think that she might be working for the enemy?”

“The Comets?”

“That’s their limo she’s riding around in,” Benji said.

“I think she’s just doing her job, Benji,” Josh said, thinking of the plan he and Jaden had worked out together. “She’s our friend.”

“Yeah,” Benji said. “That’s true. But with women? Buddy, anything’s possible. Anything at all.”

EVEN THOUGH THE COMETS
weren’t playing their semifinal game until Saturday morning, the Titans played theirs on Friday afternoon. Josh nailed a single and blasted two more home runs to help them beat a team from South Carolina by a run. The Titans went crazy, screaming to one another how great they were and chanting “Championship, championship, championship” over and over. Stu Lisson was the first person to greet Josh after the excitement had waned and he left the dugout with his bat bag. “Nice,” Stu said, clapping Josh on the shoulder and grinning at his dad. “So, what do you think, Mr. LeBlanc? Can we shoot that interview tonight?”

“But the Comets aren’t in it for sure, yet,” Josh said, the words escaping his mouth before he could even think.

Stu gave him a funny smile, then said, “Yeah, their semi’s tomorrow, but the way they’ve been looking, we feel pretty comfortable with going ahead anyway.”

Stu turned back to Josh’s dad and said, “The Mullens are on board and they’ll fly Josh down to New York this afternoon in their private jet. We’ll shoot the round table and have him back here by eight or nine at the latest. You good?”

Josh looked up at his dad. The thought of flying in a private jet and going to New York City for an HBO interview with Bob Costas made him forget all about the scandal he hoped to uncover, as well as the ill feelings he had for Mickey Mullen and his son.

“I’ll just have to check in with his mom,” Josh’s dad said. “Today sounds good to me, though. A great opportunity.”

“Of course,” Stu said. “You check with the missus and let me know. I’ll give you my cell number. If your wife is worried about him being alone, we can have Mickey Junior’s girlfriend fly down too. She’s with your hometown paper, right?”

Josh’s stomach twisted at the description of Jaden as Mickey Jr.’s girlfriend.

“That would probably be nice,” his dad said.

“Sure,” Stu said, “she’s practically part of the Mullen entourage. Bob likes her spirit, too, says she’s a real firecracker.”

TWO HOURS LATER JOSH
was sitting with Jaden in the back of the big white limousine that she seemed quite comfortable in. Josh’s mom had dressed him in a white button-down dress shirt, a pair of dark blue pants, and black shoes for the occasion. Josh felt like he was going to church, but he trusted his mom when she said he needed to look good for the camera. Several times during the ride he cleared his throat to say something to Jaden about the girlfriend thing, but for some reason he couldn’t bring himself to do it.

“You feeling okay?” Jaden asked. She wore jeans and a pink polo shirt, but she wasn’t going to be on camera.

“Great,” he said.

“You keep coughing and touching your scar.”

Josh left his face alone, faked another cough, and patted his chest. “My allergies.”

“I didn’t know you have allergies,” she said.

“Just a little sometimes,” Josh said, and turned his attention to the green trees whizzing by outside the window and to forcing his hands to stay at his sides.

When the limo pulled out onto the tarmac of the small airfield, Josh rolled down the window to get a better look at the plane. It looked like a white shark with wings. Engines the size of refrigerators framed its tail. The skin of the plane caught the afternoon light and flung it back at Josh’s eyes, making it hard to look at the big machine for more than a glance.

On board Mickey Mullen talked on a cell phone as he sat in a beige leather reclining seat beside Myron Underwood. But even Myron’s mean look couldn’t dampen the excitement Josh felt as Mickey Mullen slapped him a high five while he followed Jaden up the short aisle past a handful of other people to the back, where Mickey Jr. sat in one of four seats facing each other. Josh looked at Mickey Jr.’s sneakers, tattered jeans, and gray hoodie before he fumbled to undo the top button of his dress shirt. Mickey Jr. was playing on a Nintendo DX, hammering away at it for another couple minutes while Jaden and Josh buckled in and just stared around at the shiny reddish brown wood, brass fixtures, and soft leather upholstery.

When he finished his game, Mickey Jr. tucked the PSP into the big front pocket of his sweatshirt and
signaled to the flight attendant up in the front. The plane began to roll down the runway as she appeared and he ordered sandwiches and sodas for them all. She nodded and returned to her seat, buckling in.

The plane’s engines roared suddenly and they catapulted down the runway. Josh gripped the armrests of his seat as they rocketed nearly straight up. Once they leveled out, the sandwiches came. Josh waited until Mickey Jr. took one off the tray before reaching into the pile himself. The roast beef and American cheese seemed to melt in Josh’s mouth almost without chewing, and soon they were flying high above the clouds and picking at a second tray of strawberries dipped in dark chocolate. Without being obvious, Josh tried to follow Mickey Jr.’s lead on virtually everything. But while Mickey Jr. seemed relaxed and right at home, Josh knew his own speech, like his actions, was stiff and uneasy.

After a nose-dive landing and a short taxi on the runway, they all got off and boarded two limousines that rushed the entire group into New York City through the Lincoln Tunnel. Josh couldn’t help feeling important as he stepped out of the limousine and marched along with the rest of the group into the HBO studios.

After passing the security desk without stopping, they all rode up an elevator together, then went down a long hall. Josh could see Mickey Mullen up ahead of the group with people orbiting around him like he was the sun, even as he moved.

They were shown into a room full of comfortable couches where the coffee tables and cabinets along the walls had been lined with more trays of elegant food and drinks. Josh sat on a couch next to Jaden. Mickey Jr. sat on her other side and removed the Nintendo DX from his sweatshirt front pocket. He joked to Jaden that he was addicted to it before he began to play.

Josh leaned close to Jaden, his eyes on the pale yellow walls, and said, “I heard someone say this is the green room, but it’s yellow.”

Jaden smiled and glanced at Mickey Jr. before she leaned toward Josh and in a low voice said, “They call it a green room. It’s just a TV term for the waiting room before you go on air or into a shoot.”

Josh nodded like he knew that.

It wasn’t long before a woman in jeans and thick plastic glasses appeared with a clipboard and asked for Josh and Mickey Jr. to come with her to makeup. Jaden followed, and Josh cast a look at her over his shoulder with a questioning shrug. She didn’t get to answer before they were whisked into a room that could have been a small hair salon with its three barber chairs facing a mirror and counter covered with scissors, blow dryers, hair products, and boxes of makeup.

Josh looked over at Mickey Jr., who had slumped himself down in a chair and continued to play even as a young woman—a makeup artist—with orange hair draped a plastic cape around his neck. Josh sat in the
next chair and watched as a second woman—a hairstylist—picked up a pair of scissors and began to snip at his hair. Too nervous to complain or even ask how much she planned to cut, Josh watched in the mirror as the makeup artist applied makeup to Mickey Jr.’s face. The hairstylist stood back, primping his hair, and then told him to close his eyes as she unloaded a cloud of spray onto his head.

When the makeup artist finished with Mickey Jr., she swapped places with the hairstylist and bent over so that her face hung just over Josh’s shoulder as she looked at him in the mirror.

“Umm,” she said, directing one of her long pink and white nails toward his cheek, “I’ll do my best to cover this, but I don’t think I can hide it all.”

“No, no,” the woman with the clipboard said, stepping in from the doorway to speak to the makeup artist. “Stu wants the scar. Don’t cover the scar. They love it.”

Josh looked nervously at the makeup artist’s expression of surprise, wondering if she too worried that they were making him out to be some kind of freak.

“Oh,” she said. “Sure.”

As the makeup artist began to paint Josh’s face with several types of makeup, brush his eyebrows, and dust him up with powder, Josh tried not to breathe the strange-smelling stuff through his nose. His stomach clenched, and he cast a worried look at Jaden. He expected her to grin at the silliness of him getting made
up, but she didn’t seem to notice. Her eyes were on Mickey Jr., and when Josh compared his own scarred face in the mirror to Mickey’s, he remembered Stu Lisson’s words about a monster movie.

Before Josh knew it, they were being shuttled into the studio, where Bob Costas sat at a table studying the papers in front of him. Josh took the remaining seat around the dark, granite-topped table. An audio person clipped a microphone to his shirt collar, running the wire down through his shirt and around his pants before plugging it into a small battery pack that he’d clipped to Josh’s belt. The set, a raised platform covered with carpet, was an oasis of light in a forest of huge cameras, bare metal beams, and a tangle of cables.

Josh stared around at the hot white lights and tried to swallow, even though his tongue, dry and sticky, seemed to have swollen to twice its usual size. Suddenly Bob Costas upended his papers and tapped their bottom edges against the table as he looked at Josh and Mickey Jr.

“You guys ready?” he asked.

Josh stared back at the famous announcer’s serious face and penetrating eyes. His throat started to tickle and before he could nod or say yes, he began to cough. The woman with the clipboard rushed out from behind the bright lights and handed him a bottle of water. Josh drank half of it down and realized he had to use the bathroom.

“Okay now?” Bob Costas asked with real concern. “You look a little nervous. Just relax. You’ll be fine.”

Josh nodded, even though the last thing he felt was fine.

“Uh,” Bob Costas said to someone beyond the lights, “can someone bring a bucket?”

Josh’s stomach churned, and he tasted the roast beef and cheese as it gurgled up from his belly on a wave of soda.