Mickey: Mantle Baseball, #2

By charles fisher

Tommy, now managing the Yankees,  brings up her niece Mickey, who has a few demons to overcome. Is she as good as Tommy? She may be better. Lots of humor, and another look at thye dark side of baseball.

• Language: English
• Publisher: charles fisher
• Release date: Aug 9, 2017
• ISBN: 9781386751663

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Table of Contents

Mickey (Mantle Baseball, #2)

Mickey | The Dream Continues

The End | Tommy, Mickey, and the Yankees will return soon.

Mickey

The Dream Continues

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Commerce High School 

Commerce, Oklahoma

Commerce Wildcats vs. North Miami Spartans

May

Okay, Michelle, get a hit, Coach  Billings said absentmindedly as he looked at his cell phone.

It’s Mickey, seventeen year old Michelle Mantle said as she picked out a bat. As if you cared.

Get a hit, Billings droned. You can do it.

You don’t care about this game, do you, Michelle said. You don’t even watch us play.

I care, Billings said without looking up. I’m the coach.

You’re a waste of meat, Michelle said. They should fire your dumb ass.

Get a hit, Billings sighed as he checked his email. Maybe next year you can play first string.

"I won’t be here next year, Michelle said. I’m a senior, you asshole."

Just get a hit, Billings said as he went online to check the stock market. Like a good little girl.

Do you even know what inning it is? Michelle snapped.

Whatever, Billings said as he blew a snot onto the ground. Get a hit.

Unbelievable, Michelle sighed as she turned to go to the plate. It was 3-2  Spartans in the eighth, with two on and no outs.

The Spartans’ pitcher, Mark Damon,  leered at Michelle and waited. The Spartans coach gave him the sign to hit her with a pitch. He spit a stream of tobacco juice onto the dugout steps and grinned at his assistant coach.

I’ll show her, he nodded. One of them Mantle bitches in baseball is  enough. There ain’t gonna be two of ‘em, not if I can help it. Girls don’t belong in this game. He sat back and waited for Damon to do his job.

Damon wound up, and Michelle steadied herself. The pitch came in right at her head. She fell to the ground to avoid being killed, and immediately got up. She headed for the mound as the umpire and the fans laughed. Damon waved her off and turned away from her.

Big mistake, stupid! Michelle yelled. Damon turned around just in time to take a Louisville Slugger in the head. He collapsed in a heap, and Michelle spit on him. How’s that feel, asshole? she screamed. She threw down the bat and stormed off the field. I quit, she yelled at Billings, who nodded.

Get a hit, he sighed as he went back to his phone. You can do it.

That night, the police came to Jerry Lynn Mantle’s house.

We have an arrest warrant for Michelle Mantle, an officer said. Assault in the first degree. Is she here?

Yes, Jerry Lynn said. I knew this would happen some day. Michelle! Come here. The police want you.

Michelle came out, and the officer read her a Miranda warning, then cuffed her. Michelle stared at her mother.

Call Tommy, she said. Maybe there’s somebody in this family I can depend on. Sure as shit isn’t you.

Keep making trouble, Jerry Lynn called out as the officer took Michelle away. See where that gets you.

Maybe it’ll get me out of Oklahoma, Michelle yelled over her shoulder. Jerry Lynn made the call.

She what? Yankees manager Tommy Mantle said.

You heard me, Jerry Lynn said. This is your fault, come fix it.

Ottawa County District Court

Miami, Oklahoma

May

State of Oklahoma versus Michelle Mantle, the clerk droned.

Mr. Robbins? Judge Robert Parrant said. The prosecutor, a greasy haired idiot with a brown polyester suit and soup stains on his tie, stood up nervously. What is the charge?

Assault in the First Degree.

Very well. Miss Mantle, I see you are represented by counsel.

Tommy Mantle for the defense, your Honor, Tommy said.

I assume you two are related, the judge said.

We are cousins, your Honor.

How does she plead?

Not guilty.

Very well. Has there been any discussion of a plea agreement?

No, your Honor, Tommy said. The Defendant does not want to take a plea. She is innocent, and we intend to prove our case at trial.

Trial is set for next Wednesday. Is that enough time to prepare?

Yes, your Honor. I request that the Defendant be released in my custody.

Granted, the judge sad.

Tommy closed her brief case and glared at Michelle. Let’s go, she said. They went to the parking lot and got into Tommy’s rental car. Tommy turned and stared at Michelle. What’s wrong with you? I get you a provisional contract with the Yankees and this is what you do? You smash some pitcher’s head in with a bat?

He threw at me, Michelle said. It was intentional. You would know about that, wouldn’t you.

I took the assholes to court and got them hard time when they did that to me, Tommy said. I didn’t whack them in the head when they weren’t looking.

I don’t care, Michelle said, looking out the car window. I really don’t. I’d do it again. Nobody has to put up with this shit.

You may have just fucked yourself, Tommy said. I can probably fix this case, but I don’t know if I can convince the team owners to hire somebody who commits felonies against other players.

Then don’t, Michelle said. If they don’t want somebody who sticks up for themselves, I’ll look elsewhere.

You aren’t that good, Tommy said. You don’t have a record. High school doesn’t count for much in the majors. You got a contract because I vouched for you. No other reason.

I’m as good as you ever were, Michelle said, cocking her head. Maybe better. I’ll prove it any time you want. Don’t ever think you can tell me what I can do or what I can’t do.

Tommy backhanded Michelle across the face. A thin trickle of blood dribbled from the corner of her mouth. She just stared at Tommy.

Do it again, she whispered. Do it! she yelled, and slammed her own face against the window of the car five times. She leered at Tommy, blood running down her face.Come on, tough guy, she whispered. You can’t hurt me. That ship sailed a long time ago.

You’re crazy, Tommy whispered. What happened to you?

Never mind, Michelle said, looking down. Just get this case fixed, then I’m moving to New York. I can’t take any more of this place. I’ll either be a ball player, or I’ll disappear. Don’t worry your little head about me. I’m not worth it. I guess I never was.

Yes you are, Tommy said. I’m here, aren’t I? You called me, I showed up. I took off a week from the team to do this because I believe in you.

Then you yell at me and call me names.

You deserve it, Tommy said. You have to look at the big picture. You want to be a Yankee?

Yes, Michelle whispered. You know I do. I’d give anything.

Then stop with the bullshit. No more of this. Concentrate on the game and fly right. No more fights, you hear me? You graduate next month and then you join the team in New York.

Okay, Michelle said. Just fix this. Then I’ll show you something even you won’t believe.

Ottawa County District Court

Miami, Oklahoma

May

Robbins stood up as Tommy stormed into his office and dumped a pile of paperwork on his desk.

Discovery requests, subpoenas, and our counterclaim. I want that bastard who threw that ball at my cousin’s head arrested pronto. Attempted murder, attempted assault in the first degree, and conspiracy. I want warrants on the coach and assistant coach too. You got anything to say, soup stains? You don’t look too good.

Well, this is highly unusual, Miss Mantle. What grounds do you have for a request like this?

Testimony of about 500 people who filmed this game with their phones and cameras, Tommy shrugged. I have inside information that says the Spartans coach ordered this little hit. You’d be surprised what you can get from a cell phone camera. Ever hear of a lip reader?

Uh, yes, but I uh, I don’t know about this.

I see that, Tommy said. You’re a puppet who prosecutes girls who defend themselves against attempted murder. Don’t you know anything? she said. Do you know I had a major league team manager, pitching coach, and pitcher locked up in Attica for doing this same thing? You want to roll the dice against me? Do you know who I am, and what I can do to you? I’ll have you fired for this. I want those warrants, she said. I’ll have my client sign the complaints. How long do you need?

Wait a minute, Robbins said. You expect me to have the pitcher arrested? She hit him in the head with a baseball bat.

After he tried to kill her with a pitch, and I will have the evidence to back up that charge. Bet on it.

Robbins sat down.

What do you want, he sighed.

Mutual walkaway. Dismissal of all charges, with prejudice. My client’s record will be expunged as if this never happened. Otherwise, I will send the best lawyers alive to this city and make your life a living hell for the next five years. What say you, counselor?

Done, Robbins said. It never happened. I’ll write it up this afternoon.

Good boy, Tommy nodded. Go buy a decent suit, will you?

Yankee Stadium

Office of General Manager Bart Littlefield

May

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What’s this? Littlefield said, holding up the news story about Michelle.

They’ve been giving her a hard time, Tommy shrugged. This kid threw a rocket right at her head and damn near killed her. The opposing team’s coach ordered it.

It says here she creamed him with a bat. That true?

Yup. She lost her temper and whacked him one. Little prick deserved it, you ask me.

Is she in jail? We can’t have rookie jailbirds.

No, she’s not in jail, Tommy laughed. I told the prosecutor we were going to file a criminal complaint against the other side, and he dropped the charges. Her record was expunged, just like it never happened. It’s sealed, too, because she’s still a minor. She turns eighteen right after graduation.

I don’t want any problems, Littlefield said. Is she a hot head or something?

No. She just slams her head against car windows when she gets mad. No more than I was, Tommy said. You know the shit I had to take when I came up to Triple A? You know how many times I opened my locker and found a tampon hanging on my clothes rack? These guys can be pretty vicious. I guess this was the last straw. She never did anything like this before.

All right, Bart sighed. I assume you can keep her under control.

I will, Tommy said. Our guys are used to having a woman in the dugout. I don’t think there will be any problems. She’s a little rough around the edges, but she can hit a ton. Can she have a gun? Tommy giggled.

Very funny, Hey, I didn’t tell you. Leon is coming back, and so are Jackson and Garvey.

You’re kidding! Leon is coming back?

Yeah, he’s tired of being retired. He misses the game.

Now we got a shot, Tommy said. Finally, I got some hitters on the roster.

Give it hell, Littlefield said. Season’s almost half over and we’re in fourth place.

Commerce, Oklahoma

June

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Congratulations, Jerry Lynn said as they sipped iced tea on the front porch. You managed to graduate without killing anybody or getting yourself arrested.

Day ain’t over yet, Michelle said absentmindedly.

When are you leaving?

What time is it? Michelle said.

Don’t like it much here, do you.

Nope. There isn’t anything here for me, Michelle said.

I hope you know what you’re getting yourself into, Jerry Lynn said. All those different cities, living out of a suitcase in a hotel, you never did that before. You’ve never been out of Oklahoma.

Don’t remind me, Michelle said. She leaned over, pinched off her nostrils, and blew her nose on the floor.

That is truly disgusting, Jerry Lynn said. You do a lot of disgusting things lately. I guess you’ll fit right in with that baseball team. Those guys are total pigs.

I can fart, too, Michelle grinned. Want to see?

No, I do not. I didn’t raise you to be a common gutter pig, you know.

You didn’t raise me to be anything, Michelle said. And you have my undying gratitude.

Baseball, Jerry Lynn sighed. What is the fascination? You want to do this because Tommy did it?

Nope. I want to do it because I love the game. That’s what you don’t understand.

Why should I? You’re a woman. You should start acting like one.

Michelle hawked up a huge lunger and spit it over the railing.

How’s that, she grinned.

I give up, Jerry Lynn said. Go play your stupid game if you need it so much. Just remember what I told you when you get hurt and can’t play any more. Then what? You have no education. What would you do?

Damned if I know, Michelle said. I know, I’ll come back here, marry some drunk cattle  rancher, learn how to make moonshine whiskey, bang out a few retarded kids, and sell overalls at Wal-Mart. Would that meet with your approval?

Don’t make fun of Oklahoma, Jerry Lynn said. It made you what you are.

I made me what I am, Michelle said.

And just what is that?

Ball player, Michelle said, looking off at the horizon. She looked at her mother curiously. Do you have any idea what I am capable of on that field? You never came to one of my games. Not one. Yet you sit here and practically tell me I’ll fail.

You beat high school kids, Jerry Lynn said. Wait until you have to play against real professionals. Full grown  men, not teenagers. You might get your cute little ass handed to you. Then what? You ever think about that? Maybe you aren’t as good as you think you are.

"I’m better than you think I am, Michelle said. And I guarantee you, I’ll hold my own in the majors."

Your crazy cousin put you up to this, didn’t she.

She knows talent when she sees it. That’s her job. In case you didn’t notice, she holds most of the home run records in baseball.

You’re not her. She spent two years in the minors, and she went to college. She has a law degree, thank God, or you’d be in jail right now. You should be in college, not pinstripes.

Pinstripes pays better, Michelle said. And no student loans to default on because you can’t get a job. I got a job. You just don’t like my chosen field of work. You never did. And you know what? I really don’t give a flying fuck.

How dare you use language like that? My God, what’s wrong with you? Who taught you to swear like that?

The Easter Bunny, Michelle said as she stood up. I gotta go pack for my trip.

Don’t pack any tampons, Jerry Lynn said. From what Tommy told me, the other players will leave them in your locker for you.

Great, Michelle shrugged. Think of the money I’ll save. She stopped in the doorway for a minute. You could come see me play at Yankee Stadium, you know, she said softly. I’ll pay for it. Maybe if you see what I can do, you’ll knock off the attitude. I’m real good, Ma. Real good.

I’ll think about it, Jerry Lynn said.

Yankee Stadium

Practice Session

June

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The path of the righteous man is beset on all sides by the inequities of the selfish and the tyranny of evil men. Blessed is he, who in the name of charity and good will, shepherds the weak through the valley of darkness, for he is truly his brother's keeper and the finder of lost children. And I will strike down upon thee with great vengeance and furious anger those who would attempt to poison and destroy my brothers. And you will know my name is the Lord when I lay my vengeance upon thee. A tall, handsome black man wearing a two thousand dollar suit was standing on the dugout steps. He took off his sunglasses and grinned at Tommy.What up, bitch.

Good grief, look who’s here, Tommy laughed. If it isn’t Reverend Ron Jackson. Why are you on the loose? Prison break?

Couldn’t resist working for a cracker again, Jackson said as Tommy hugged him.

Yeah, you traitor, she laughed. You enjoy the Dodgers?

Nah, they be too uptight. Two years of that was enough. The money was good, but they got no sense of humor. I told a nigger joke one day and I thought the damn manager was going to have a fucking heart attack.

Leon is coming out of retirement. He’s bored. You got a gas mask?

That rotten ass Polack motherfucker better stay away from me, Jackson laughed. I got me a lung condition for a year after he done that to me.

Garvey is coming back, too. And my cousin Michelle will be here tomorrow. Wait’ll you get a load of her.

Girl player again? Jackson said. She hit like you?

I never saw anything like it, Tommy said. I don’t know where she gets the power she has. She could give Leon a run for his money.

Huh, Jackson grunted. She be hot, or an old bag like you?

Watch it, Buckwheat, Tommy laughed. I’m only 37, and I look a hell of a lot better in a bikini than you ever will. Michelle is eighteen. Don’t get any ideas.

Damn jail bait, Jackson said. Where she from?

Oklahoma, where else, Tommy sighed. We’re all from Oklahoma.

Probably rides a damn cow to work and got twenty inch arms, Jackson grinned.

Nah, we look like twins. Tall skinny blonde. Look, take it easy on her. They gave her a pretty hard time in high school. The same shit I went through, but she’s got a short fuse and she won’t hesitate to start a brawl. She smashed a kid’s head in with a bat last month after he threw at her. I had to go home and keep her out of jail.

Great, Jackson sighed. Can’t have that shit no more. This ain’t 1970. Bunch of damn prima donna college boys in the game now.

I know, I have a few of them here. Believe me when I tell you, Michelle is not a prima donna.

She like niggers? he grinned.

Who doesn’t? Tommy laughed. She must, she bought three of them last year.

Damn, Jackson said. That be rude shit. Nothing ever changes around here, do it?

It better change, Tommy said. I don’t want to be in the cellar my first year as a manager.

Don’t worry, we’ll save your sorry white ass. Otherwise, you’ll be working the street with Peterson’s old lady. Where he at, anyway?

He’s around someplace, we made him a coach.

This cousin of yours, she gonna be a starter?

Well, maybe not right away. I want to see what she does against major league pitching. She just got out of high school.

That be risky. Maybe you ought to send her to Scranton for a spell. You know, just to make sure.

She wouldn’t go. She said she doesn’t need it. If she’s right, she can stay. If not, hasta la vista, baby, off to the minors she goes. I’m not going to risk a losing season because she’s family. Either she produces or she’s gone.

Yankee Stadium

Practice Session

June

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Michelle came in and dropped her duffel bag on the dugout floor. She was already in her uniform. Tommy introduced her around, and she went and found a spot on the end of the bench. She stuffed something into her mouth and sat down. She leaned forward and stared quietly at the floor, her hands folded in front of her.

Real sociable, ain’t she, Peterson said.

Watch it, Tommy warned. You fuck with her and she’ll brain you. She hasn’t developed her sense of humor yet.

No time like the present, Peterson smiled. Hey! he called out. Michelle! New girl. C’mere. I want to ask you something. Michelle looked up and gave him a sullen stare, then got to her feet. She ambled over, her cleats scratching ominously on the concrete.

What, she said.

Well, we have a pool going, Peterson shrugged. We’re taking bets on whether you’re old enough to ride the cotton pony. Want in on the action?

Michelle stared at Peterson for a minute, then spat a long stream of tobacco juice onto his shoes. She smiled at him and went back to her spot.

Guess you got your answer, Tommy giggled.

She chews fucking tobacco? Peterson exclaimed. "Where