[tenthreeleader]

The situation wasn’t ideal. In fact, it was far from it.

All the momentum from the Pensacola series had been wasted and the pitching staff was an undoubted mess. Three injuries in the first fifteen games, all to starters, had caused mayhem in the bullpen.

But that was the game. That was how it worked. You can complain about it, but if you do, they’ll find someone who will do the job without complaining.

Run, and you are through.

Of course, it could have been worse – they could have been below .500 and farther behind Jackson than they already were – but this wasn’t great.

Wade, the center fielder regarded as the team’s best player, wasn’t hitting much. Corcino, after a hot start, was fading. Cave’s brilliance and the solid play of Gordon were holding the team in most games.

Rooker, only the second player in the history of the SEC to win that league’s Triple Crown, was hitting for power but no average, and was starting to strike out at a truly alarming rate.

So it was that after giving a post-game interview to veteran broadcaster and Southern League Hall-of-Famer Larry Ward on 96.1 “The Legend”, Rob showered, changed into his street clothes and headed to the parking lot feeling not so much like a legend, or even a legend-to-be.

The rough times had come early, and exactly in the middle of a stretch of 20 games in 20 days, he would have to look for help from the system to make it to the team’s next scheduled off day on May 1.

As he headed to his car, he came across a group of fans who were drowning their sorrows in a post-game tailgate session at AT&T Field.

“Tough series, Rob,” a woman said, and the manager smiled ruefully.

“You got that right,” he replied.

“Come have a beer with us,” a man responded, who Rob took to be the woman’s husband.

“What the hell,” Rob said, stepping towards the group. “We just lost four games at home, what’s a DUI on top of everything else?”

He shook hands around the group and the woman touched his hand softly.

“I’m Jody,” she said. “Jody Fiore. This is my brother, Brian.”

“Rob Randall, though perhaps you already knew that from the people calling me an idiot tonight from the stands.”

Gallows humor seems to go well with most sports fans. Rob thought back to a television show featuring football coach Lou Holtz in his one and only season with the New York Jets. He began one week by saying, “Welcome to the Lou Holtz Show. Unfortunately, I’m Lou Holtz.”

“Oh, it’s not that bad,” Brian said. “Maybe if it happens again, though …”

“A comedian,” Rob thought to himself. “That can’t be good.”

Sensing he had struck a nerve, Brian backed off. “What’s the plan for tomorrow?” he asked.

“Well, Romero, and an early bus ride,” Rob said, not looking forward to the trip. The clubbies were already hauling gear to the waiting team bus to get a head start on their work for the morning. For now, though, they were washing uniforms and packing as much gear as they could for the 387-mile journey the next morning.

“A day with the team is better than a day of work,” Brian said, and there Rob had to admit he had a point.

Bus call was at 6 a.m. and the team would check into its hotel at about noon before napping and then heading to the ballpark. Such is life at the Double-A level.

Looking at the two, Rob could tell they were brother and sister. They both had raven-black hair and blue eyes, but Jody’s visage came with two rather fetching dimples when she smiled, which appeared to be much of the time. She wore her hair straight, to her shoulders.

“We’ve been season ticket holders forever,” she said. “Win or lose, we’re here.”

“That’s good to hear,” Rob said, taking a sip of beer. “Some days, the guys need that.”

“What about you?” Brian asked. “You need fans too, right? Or does your wife handle that for you?”

Rob laughed – more bitterly, this time. “No, there isn’t one of those anymore,” he said. “And she’s got my kids, so they aren’t around either.”

“Less said, the better,” Brian agreed. “Well, I hope it gets better soon.”

“Can hardly get worse,” Rob said, finishing his beer. “But five o’clock comes early and I better try to sleep. Thanks for the beer and maybe I’ll see you around this summer.”

“Maybe you will,” Jody said. “Take care.”

Rob walked to his car in the staff-only area, and reached for the door handle, only to find a card stuck in the weatherstripping on the driver’s window.

It contained a phone number, with the words “Text me – Jody” written underneath.

“How in the heck did she get in here?” Rob thought to himself. He flicked the card aside, got inside, and closed the door.

Then he opened the door, retrieved the card and put it in his shirt pocket.

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