“I do okay with football …” I started but was interrupted.
“Is it true that you’re not planning to defend your title at the Elite 11 quarterback competition?”
“My focus this summer is primarily baseball. I’ve been invited by USA Baseball to compete this week for a spot on the Under-18 National Team with 107 other baseball players from across the country. While I love football, baseball was my passion growing up,” I said.
“So you plan to do both, play baseball and football?”
“I’m in high school, and the seasons don’t overlap, making it possible to do both now. Moving forward, we’ll see. I expect after this week, I’ll have a better idea of my baseball potential. In an ideal world, I’d love to do what Deion Sanders did and play in both a World Series and a Super Bowl.”
“Football’s not the only interest you have outside of baseball. Your celebrity as a movie star has caused some issues at your high school baseball games.”
“If you mean that crowd sizes increasing dramatically was a problem, then I guess it was. I suspect wherever I go to play ball, they’ll see that as an asset, not a problem,” I said.
I held up my hands to stop further questions.
“We just got here, and I’m around all week. Let me get settled, and I promise to make myself available for further interviews when it doesn’t interfere with what the folks at USA Baseball have planned.”
With that, we left to find Moose.
◊◊◊
We dropped the coaches off at an Embassy Suites not far from the National Training Complex (NTC). Paul and I drove on to the training complex. It was situated in the 221-acre Thomas Brooks Park. The baseball stadium held 1,800 fans. Next to the stadium were three other fields that were said to be of major-league quality. Next to the press boxes, on a hill overlooking the stadium, there was a large tent. Someone pointed me to where I had go to start the process.
“Welcome to the NTC, David,” a man in his late thirties said. “You’ve given us a little free pub with your presence here. Let me walk you over to where you need to sign in.”
I was taken to a table where I was signed in, and then another young man approached me.
“David, let’s get you geared up,” he said and took me over to where everything was.
“Paul, I expect I’m okay here. Go get settled in, and I’ll call you when I’m done.”
He agreed and left me to take care of all the preliminaries. It was a little unnerving that everyone I met seemed to know who I was. There were other boys who obviously were baseball players being led around as well.
The gear was great. The USA Baseball logo had the letters ‘U’ and ‘S’ wrapped around a star on the hat. T-shirts and jerseys showed ‘USA’ across the chest, with the ‘S’ looking like a stylized flag.
Part of the program for the initial tryouts was that we would be housed through the USA Baseball Host Family Program. If I made it to the next round, held in Houston, Texas, we would stay at hotels. My host family was Melissa and Rob Rivers, and their one son, Bob. Melissa and Bob were there to greet me. He looked like he was eleven, and I think he was a little starstruck.
“Mom! He’s over here!” Bob said as he came bounding up.
“Slow down and use your inside voice,” she chastised him. “Sorry about that. I’m Melissa Rivers, and this is my son Bob. We’re your host family for the week.”
“We won, so we got to pick you,” Bob shared.
“That’s nice. Was everyone able to pick who lived with them?” I asked.
“Not exactly. Why don’t I explain that later?” Melissa said as she looked at her son meaningfully.
“Where’s all your stuff? We should get going,” Melissa said.
“Sorry, I need to call my security slash driver. He’ll want to check out your house,” I said.
“Oh, no one told me. You won’t need me to take you to and from practice then,” she said, looking disappointed.
“No, probably not.”
I’d sent Paul a text when I was done, so he was in the parking lot.
“I want to go with David,” Bob said.
We walked out to our rental car, and I introduced Paul to Melissa. I don’t believe she was too happy that he planned to check her house out. They lived in the Kildaire Farms subdivision. When we pulled up, I was a little taken aback. The home was from the mid-’70s, with vertical wood siding. What was off-putting was that the second story had bump-outs where a second-story room would jut out into the front yard. I was worried that if they had wood rot, it might just fall off.
Once we got inside, it was a different story. It was a four-bedroom home, which meant I wouldn’t have to room with Bob. I was afraid that he might literally talk my arm off if I were trapped in his room all night. At my request, Bob showed Paul around the house.
“Sorry, but I’ve had a few instances when I’ve needed security.”
“We were warned. It’s okay.”
“What was the deal about you winning me?” I asked.
“Several of the host families wanted to have you stay with them. Not wanting to hurt anyone’s feelings, they had a drawing.”
“I hope you aren’t expecting much. I’m just a regular teenager.”
“No, but it’ll be a big deal for Bob. His friends all think Stryker is really cool, and when you did that bit where you stole the spaceship, he got a little excited,” Melissa warned me.
“When he asks, should I tell him none of it was real?”
“I’ll leave that up to you. While you’re at it, could you tell him Santa’s not real? I expect you would make his whole summer,” she said.
I liked her.
“Whatever you think is best,” I deadpanned.
“I hear you have a son.”
“Yes. In fact, it feels like I have two. One of them is my nanny’s son,” I said, getting out my phone to show her pictures.
Bob came bounding into the room with Paul in tow.
“All good,” Paul announced.
“Tonight, they’re throwing a welcome party for the players. Would you and your family like to come?” I asked.
“They already invited the host families. We planned to go,” Melissa said.
“I hate to dash, but I’m meeting with my coaches to work out. What time do you need me to be back?” I asked.
She looked relieved. I would bet she planned to have me join them for dinner tonight. I wanted to meet her husband before we went to the party.
“How many people do you have with you?” Melissa asked.
“Three coaches and Paul.”
“Let them know they’re all invited to dinner tonight.”
“You don’t have to do that.”
“We’re grilling out. Bob has friends coming over,” Melissa admitted.
I nodded.
“Thank you. I’ll see if they want to come. I’ll text you with a firm number,” I assured her.
Paul and I made our exit.
“You realize that Moose and Coach Haskins would never pass up a home-cooked meal,” Paul told me.
“I know, but they’ll have to put up with a bunch of eleven-year-olds.”
“Bob is full of energy,” Paul agreed.
◊◊◊
Dinner was fun. Bob had three of his buddies over, and I told them how I stole the Millennium Falcon off the Star Wars set. I showed them the videos, and they were impressed. They wanted to know if I still had it. I explained to them that they needed it for the next movie, so I’d given it back.
Rob rubbed me the wrong way. He was a cocky little bastard, one of those guys who had an even better story, no matter what anyone talked about. Rob told me he was a runner, and that if I wanted to, he would take me on his usual run tomorrow. Moose shook his head ‘no’ because he could tell I planned to run the man into the ground. I told Rob that I wasn’t sure what tomorrow held, so I would wait to run.