My suitcase didn't even get fully unpacked before we hit the road again the next day. The plastic wheels of my gray suitcase clacked on the pavement walking into the airport. The mumuring of people, the beeping of scanners, and the droning of intercoms filled the airport as we each got our tickets.
"Flight number 294 to Gary has been rescheduled for 1:30."
Waking up at an ungodly hour to get here, we were awfully disappointed to hear our flight was pushed back two hours. We all groaned and sat around for about five minutes, sitting at the terminal in uncomfortable silence.
It's at times like this where we wish the team jet wasn't undergoing maintenence.
Eventually, to pass the time, Jack produced some playing cards from his suitcase. One thing led to another, and by noon, almost the whole team was roped into a heart-pounding game of Slam by the two starting middle infielders and the quickest hands on the team, Drake and Kai. Drake swept his cards into the deck like a blur, but Kai, a sharp wit, eked him out. The game continued.
"20 on Drake," Xander whispered.
"Make it 30 and we've got a bet," Bray challenged from the back of the huddle we had formed around the two.
"40 and a Popeyes sandwich on Drake," announced Kade, eying the Popeyes stand across the food court we were sitting at.
"Deal," I piped up. Bets started flying around the pack of spectators.
"I got you!" Kai assured me. This proved to be right, as he swept Drake within 3 minutes tops. A very unhappy Xander handed Bray his money, while Kai marched Kade and me over to the Popeyes stand.
"Spicy chicken sandwich and a drink," Kade said, mirroring my usual order.
Within minutes, a fat chicken tender dripping in spicy sauce and two yummy looking buns were in a tray at my table.
I checked my watch. 1:30.
"Hey, our flight is going," I announced. Kai, who was busy exchanging high fives all around, paused.
"Isn't our flight at 2?"
"Huh?" a chorus of guys responded.
"Am I the only one that heard the intercom say we were getting pushed back again?"
"I heard it too," Jaxton Coe answered, rubbing a fresh tattoo on his bicep.
"Agree," Kairo spoke up, in his usual broken English way.
"No, it's 'I agree,'" Kai corrected Kairo. Kairo rolled his eyes so hard that even a rebellious teenager would have been impressed.
Cordell , standing next to me, produced a flask and downed it. Confused, I glanced at him.
"Scotch. It's the way to go for jetlag," Cordell explained.
"Hand me that." Cordell obliged, handing me a half full flask. I sipped. Tasted more like salted caramel.
"It's not enough for you to get drunk, not even a little. Just helps with jetlag," Cordell reassured me as a drop of scotch navigated its way through his dense beard. I had neglected my shaving duties and as such I had grown a respectable stubble over the week.
2 came fast and we all rolled our stuffed suitcases (and in Bray's case, stuffed wallet) to the booth. Looking at the large glass window, we exchanged our oohs and ahs as an airplane taxied in to the runway. Within minutes, we boarded, the plane took off, and we were in the air.
Long airplane trips were nothing out of the ordinary for a team that had now traveled to the likes of Lansing to Nashville to West Virginia to Kansas and everywhere in between. Ergo, nobody had any qualms with the 9-hour flight from here to Chicago. From Chicago, we hopped on a bus at midnight to our hotel in Gary, taking the scenic route. You could look out the window on one side and see Lake Michigan shimmering in the moonlight.
All of our eyes were swimming in the lake except for Cad. Being a Miami native, he was used to lake life and as such considered it a nondescript landmark like a water tower or a desert.
The drive was not nearly as bad as first thought. Our bus is pretty nice, and I brought a pillow to sleep on the way there. Not that I would get much sleep, as within a half hour, we were at the hotel. I got my bag out of the luggage compartment, rolled it inside, and conked out in a bed as soon as I got my room key.
The next morning, we selected roomates, a fun team tradition. I didn't feel like getting decked, so I deviated from my usual choice of Kellen.
I was picked to go next, so I took a good look at my options. Bray? Nah. Too hateful. Craig? Nope. He likes to room with Isaias. Jaxton? Get real. I'd prefer to live through the night without a stab wound. I pointed at Cordell. Maybe he'd have something to say. We were handed a room key and went up to the room. As I looked out the window, we saw the US Battlefield, the smallest stadium for a small-market team. The Battle were seen as the 'little brother' to the Fire. This year was the first time they were a title contender in years. I clicked the TV on.
"Welcome back to ESPN, the first subject of today's discussion is, when did the Warren Wildcats get this good?"
"Not sure, Max."
"I've been telling you for months fellas, the Warren Wildcats are THE most UNDERRATED team in the MBC. Their 85-77 record is a result of being in a division with FORMER best team in the Provincial League and FORMER powerhouse Lansing Power."
"Steve, shut up. There are growing seeds of dissension in the Wildcats. They're losing Caldwell to suspension. They're losing Bullock for a game for a stress fracture in his ankle, as we have just heard. They've lost their ace pitcher and starting first baseman for DRAFT PICKS. This is a REBUILDING TEAM."
"Explain to me why they're in the conference finals, then?"
"We don't know why they're making this playoff push but I am CERTAIN it ends tomorrow. I will buy you a FULL DINNER from a restaurant of your choosing if they win."
"Deal."
"These Americans," Cordell chuckled. "Always arguing for no reason."
"Cordell, you're an American." I defended the country.
"American citizen. I'm a born Canadian."
He had me there. Cordell gained American citizenship in 2014. He still had ties to Canada, being a member of the Algonquin tribe and also part of the Canada national team.
"More reason why I think the Wildcats' season ends tomorrow: Look at their official lineup. It's riddled with holes and questions."
The TV flashed our lineups.
Cordell Brantley CF
Cole Bassitt C
Bray Barranda 3B
Kai Kordes 2B
Cadmon Sipe LF
Tate Short 2B
Isaias Crawford RF
Craig Elliot DH
Xander Dumas 1B
"See what I mean? Cole Bassitt. Career backup. Injury prone. Bray Barranda. Shaky hitter. Cadmon Sipe. Weak-hitting rookie. Tate Short. High-schooler. Needs to go back to AA. Craig Elliot. Needs to be collecting his money from AARP. This lineup is FILLED with questions. Their ENTIRE BENCH is minor leaguers."
That was true. Kairo and Marco were the longest-tenured bench players, and they had only been around for two weeks. Hayden Love, Carter Chang and Sami McGough, a few minor league players, would be filling in for tomorrow.
Just as the train of thought reached its destination and I decided to go to bed, we heard a timid knock on the door.
YOU ARE READING
An Unlikely Slugger: The story of Cole Bassitt
ActionCole Bassitt, a no-name catcher, just wants to have a normal season. Of course, during the postseason, an injury flings him into the fringe, and suddenly, he's a little bit of a hero. While his career skyrockets, his teammate wants his king status b...
