What Doesn't Kill You

Chapter One - New Shoes

August 2, 2015 - Baltimore, Maryland - Camden Yards

"Three..." Daniel muttered to himself quietly as he took a deep breath as his eyes drifted down to the tennis shoes on his feet. They were clean, white, brand new, a small rarity for him but for some reason Daniel had always spent money on his shoes. Even when he took his signing bonus and put it away, giving himself a small stipend to live on in his VW Van. Or rather, at least living in his van for for the off season.

"Two..." He glanced at the door handle with a sigh, the orange door of the Baltimore locker room glaring him in the face. He'd been here before on his short stint in the bigs with the Jays, when he made the twenty five man roster out of camp that year. But of course, that was before his arm troubles, before his arm betrayed him like that. Before he got sent back to Buffalo to work out whatever what was wrong with him.

He shoved his duffle bag back up over his shoulder higher, and reached to grip the upper bicep remembering it, as if it was yesterday. He hadn't pitched in the majors since he'd been sent to back to the Bisons the Blue Jays AAA team. Yet here he was, a short flight down the coast back in a major league locker room — or rather about to walk into one. The day before he found out he'd been traded to Detroit, the perennial buyers were now sellers and they wanted him in return. Matt Boyd who had also been traded over with him had been assigned to Toledo. Not Daniel though, they wanted him to step into the giant lefty shoes of David Price — and all he could do was hope that his new sneakers (and cleats he'd brought) would carry him to not letting his new team mates down.

"One." He signed to himself as he pulled open the door. He wasn't sure why he was taking such a long time to enter the doors, but it felt like a new step in life. And Norris always liked to stop and take in those moments. He'd be starting today, and when he spoke to Al on the phone and then the club house manager he had asked to make sure he got in plenty early before the rest of his teammates did. And yet, as he scanned his eyes past the lockers, each laid out with a jersey he looked for his name, finding it down towards the end.

Some of the staff was there, but no players yet; he'd made sure to be the first one in the club house. He wanted them the other players to know that he was appreciative for the opportunity Dave Dombrowski and Mr. Illitch were giving him. This was a team of veterans and here he was — an already eccentric rookie and he just wanted to fit in.

Things had never been quite right with the Blue Jays. The older guys didn't appreciate the minor league pitcher ending up on ESPN— at least for what they decided to call, not the right reasons. Everyone accused Daniel of doing it for the wrong reasons, they accused him of doing it for attention, but it wasn't his idea to agree to the stupid article. That was all up to his agent and he was still feeling punished for it. Daniel never knew how to deal with people.

No, there was only two places in which Daniel felt at home and both of them were when he was alone. Everyone always tried to explain to him this need for other people but it was just something he couldn't relate to. He would rather be hiking, fishing, or any basically anything that doesn't involve other people. And if he had to be around other people? Then he would rather be pitching.

This time he wasn't going to let himself be different. He trimmed his beard down, he cut his hair. He did the most he could do to blend in. This time he was going to make an effort to not stick out; if baseball is nothing but conservative, traditional, well then that was what he was going to do.

His teammates made their way into the clubhouse, surprisingly, it was Victor Martinez who was the first one inside and created him warmly before he made his way to work with the trainer. Victor explained that he always tried to be the first person in, because he liked to take more BP; but mostly just because his body was older and it took longer to get warmed up and ready. After that he excused himself to go get on a bike.

"Hey there Norris. It's great to have you here. " Call Brad Ausmu, the Tigers manager, as he made his way into the club house and settled into the office in the visiting managers office.

"Give me ten minutes then come on in and we can start going over scouting reports before McCann gets in."

Daniel knew Brad was a hands on manager, but as they walked through the scouting report. It didn't take long before the blond haired young man popped his head around the corner. "Sorry I'm late skip!" He nodded at Brad and reached out for Daniels hand.

"Hey! I'm James. Nice to meet you Daniel." McCann gripped his hand firmly and pulled him into a half hug before they sat down and started getting into even more work. At the end of the meeting McCann was smiling at him yet again and telling him to "Just trust me, we'll do great."

Norris had never had a battery mate like that. But come game time, trust him he did and McCann lead him beautifully. Norris felt a top of the world. He was dialed in, all of his pitches working and other then a long fly ball that turned into a home run off Chris Davis it was the best start he could have asked for and he topped if off with a diving catch off the mound which lead his team mates to give him high five congratulating him.

After Alex came in and closed out the game they made their way back into the club house. Reggaeton music fixed the club house and Norris slinked to his locker sitting quietly on the couch closest to it in his t-shirt and boxer briefs having already showered, watching these baseball giants - Miguel Cabrera, Victor Martinez, Justin Verlander chatting amongst each other smiling and enjoying the win, even in this losing season.

A hand clamped around his shoulder as he felt a body flop down on the couch next to him.

"Not many pitchers even try for that play — let alone make it — too afraid to get hurt" Smirked Ian, referencing the diving play that Daniel had made earlier as he glanced over at Daniel catching his eyes.

"Yeah, well — pain isn't the worst thing in the world." Daniel held Ian's eyes as he spoke slow, deliberately as he always did. For a fleeting moment his heart pounded in his chest — but then they broke eye contact and Daniel was sure he had imagined it.

"Keep that attitude up and you'll go far, kid. Don't let the bright lights of stardom get to your head. Work hard, respect the game and keep your head in it and you'll go far. You do that, and every guy in this club house will have your back." Ian patted Daniel's thigh as he got up not awaiting any words from the younger man and walked back across the club house to Jose Iglesias reaching for a water bottle and chatting up the other middle infielder.

In that moment Norris sighed, allowing a smile to cross his lips as he glanced over the clubhouse full of life, of the new men who were his teammates and he allowed himself to think — even for the quickest of instants that maybe this new shoe might fit him well after all.