Chapter 1

Beginnings are always so shiny when they're new.

1

 

“To accomplish great things, we must not only act, but also dream; not only plan, but also believe.”
                              -Anatole France

 

 

 

“Hi, I’m Amy Gutierrez and welcome back to Sports News Today. If you are just tuning in I’m here with the Giants new rookie player, Genny Henry,” announced the interviewer. “Now Genny, how does it feel to know that you’ll officially become the first female baseball player tomorrow?”

“It’s unbelievable; I can’t believe this is actually happening to me. I can’t wait to meet all of the players and become one of their own. I don’t even think I’ll be able to fall asleep tonight, I’m so amped.”

“Did you ever think you’d make it this far?” she asked.

“No. Not even a little. I thought college was as far as I would go, I never thought I‘d ever make it to the Majors. My family doubted I’d ever play baseball in high school but I just pushed on and kept believing in myself; I just followed my dreams. I mean, look at me now I’m a twenty-two year old female Major League baseball player playing for one of the best teams in the league.”

“Ah. I see. Did the coach force any rules on you, referring to you being a girl and all?”

“Well, he said that I couldn’t go into the boys’ washroom, of course, and that I wasn’t allowed to have romantic relationships with any of my teammates.”

The interviewer nodded. “ Well that’s all of the time we have left now, thanks for joining us,” she turned to the camera and continued, “and thank you all for tuning in to Sports News Today, I’m Amy Gutierrez, now back to you Chris.”

That night I did not get any sleep for I was indeed too excited. Beep! Beep! Beep! My alarm clock blared. I shot up from my pillow.

“Today’s the day!” I shrieked ecstatically to myself. Completely disregarding the fact that I had little sleep, I hurried to my closet, a little light headed and slid it open and gazed at my Giants uniform in awe. It seemed to glow as if it were the only thing in my closet.

“It’s so beautiful,” I murmured sensationally to myself.

I rushed and got ready, unable to pace myself, for baseball was certainly on my mind. On the road, I drove like a madwoman; but I gradually steadied my speed as I wondered what impression I’d make being ticketed and ending up late for my first day. I walked into the park entrance closely observing my surroundings, looking at all of the awards and plaques displayed on the walls. The walls were eggshell white, the hallways were spacious and the floors were made of cold, suave concrete. It was like being in a large warehouse. I soon found myself a little lost…okay, a lot of lost. Every hallway was similar, every door was similar, and for some reason, I couldn’t find a soul, until finally…

“Hey! A man called from behind.

I whirled around to find a dark-skinned Latin American man.

“You look a tad bit lost,” he observed.

“Yeah,” I admitted. “I’m having trouble finding the field.”

“Down this hall, and to the right is the door that leads to the clubhouse, you can’t miss it, it has the logo across it, and the clubhouse stairs lead to the dugout,” he explained.

“Thank you…”

“You can call me Bam Bam, I'm the batting coach. So which player are you looking for? Oh wait, let me guess, you’re Pablo’s girl aren't you?”

“Uh… actually I'm Genny, your new prospect,” I declared confidently.

Bam Bam shot a perplexed look as I strolled off in the direction he had told me.

I was strolling towards the clubhouse carrying my purse on one arm and my duffle bag, filled with baseball equipment, on the other. I was a quarter of the way there when I was stopped by the assistant coach.

“‘Ay! Rookie!” he called from a far. “Here, bring this to the field,” he ordered while handing me a bucket filled to the brim with baseballs.

“But I’m already carrying two bags and�"”

“Okay thanks,” he said, completely ignoring my complaint and walking off.

“But wait!” I shouted, but he had already turned the corner. “Oh well,” I muttered to myself.

I continued toward the field but this time inching my way carrying my purse on one arm, my duffle bag on the other and now the bucket in both hands. I struggled to keep balance as the different weights shifted as I walked. I sighed in relief when I had finally reached the clubhouse door. I carefully grabbed my ID card out of my purse, swiped it swiftly, and entered. I stood in front of the entrance for a little bit, as I admired the spacious clubhouse. The lockers weren't like the typical lockers that pop into your mind; they’re more like large cubbies you hang your clothes in. I quickly found my locker, the last locker of the row, next to a man with the last name of “Lincecum”. Our last names were on plaques above our locker. My locker was the only one with a curtain in front of it, which, when I thought about it, made perfect sense. 

I literally threw my bags into my locker and immediately located the steps that led to the dugout. I then noticed something heavenly trotting down the stairs that seemed to catch my eye. Out of the blue my mind went blank; suddenly I forgot what I was doing. The bucket fell from my grasp and all of the baseballs scattered in numerous directions on the floor. I swore to myself as I gathered the balls and placed them back into the bucket somberly.

“Need any help?” questioned a deep voice above me.

“Yes, sure, please,” I replied, a little flustered. I looked up and spotted a man who appeared to be around his early twenties. I noticed from his uniform that he was a member of the team.

He helped gather the rest of the baseballs with me. “You must be our new teammate.”

I nodded. “How’d you guess?

“Well,” he began, eying me sarcastically, “for starters, you’re wearing the uniform, you’re holding baseball equipment, and Coach warned us that the new teammate would be ‘different’.” He made the quote gesture with his fingers. “At first I thought he might’ve meant different as in short or from a foreign country. But now I know exactly what he meant.”

“Yeah,” I agreed. “I see what you mean. Anyways, yes, I’m the new player around here.”

He backed up a bit from the bucket, eyed the bucket carefully with his clear blue eyes, aimed carefully, and tried to shoot a baseball into the bucket; only to have it bounce off the rim and hit me on the forehead. He couldn’t help but laugh at the scene, and I laughed along with him. I was glad that I was socializing with a member of the team. If I could get along with this guy, maybe I won’t be so nervous around the other teammates.

After the mirth, he introduced himself. “I’m Buster, by the way,” he greeted with a handshake.

I shook his hand back with a smile. “I’m Genny, Genny with a G. Nice to meet you.”

Honestly, I didn’t think anyone would give me the welcome-mat greeting. After all, it would be hard adjusting to having a girl on the team for the first time; not to mention uncomfortable. I was glad Buster accepted me as part of the team so easily. But one could really tell, from his well-trimmed brown hair and blue eyes, not to mention his smile as harmless as a small mammal, that he was the welcoming kind. It was an assuring feel.

I dropped the last ball into the bucket and tried to hoist it up to my shoulders.

“Do you need any help with that?” he asked.

“Yeah, it’s kinda heavy,” I stated. I watched as he lifted the bucket effortlessly to his broad shoulders. “Thanks again.”

“No problem,” he said while carrying the bucket the rest of the way as I followed.

But despite meeting a friendly player, my stomach churned at the sight of the rest of the team. You could spot the tension on my face from a mile away when we approached the team squatting on the field in a circle surrounding the coach.

 “Hey, Buster,” spoke one player with lengthy dark brown hair. “Who’s your little girlfriend?”

Buster smiled and rolled his eyes. “She’s just�"”

“Wait a sec,” the long-haired teammate muttered, eying my uniform suspiciously. His eyes widened with an unusual thought as he asked, “Are you the new player?”

I nodded in shame, afraid that he might not welcome me as nicely. “Uhh...” was all I managed to mumble.

He turned to the coach and winced. “Is she the new player?” he asked, denying the indications. “Or is she just some new assistant batting coach, or something?”

The coach didn’t seem to notice him. He stood up and walked beside me.

“Everyone,” he announced, “this is our newest teammate, Genny. Told you she’d be different.”

“Hi Genny,” they all said in a manner that made me feel like I was some kind of a child.

“Tim,” spoke the coach to the long-haired fellow, “Why don’t you show Genny around?”

But I don’t think Tim was ready to digest the fact that there was a woman on the team. “Coach,” he stated with nervous laughter. “She’s a girl. Has there ever even been a girl�"”

“Enough complaining,” Coach replied, “And give her a tour of the place. Jeez, haven’t you heard of equal treatment?”

“But Coach,” he whined.

“I don’t wanna hear it,” Coach demanded.

Tim felt already humiliated in front of the team, and the new payer. With an agitated sigh, he got up and walked past me. “Come on, girl,” he muttered. “I’ll show you around.”

I caught up to him until we reached the dugout. I noticed the silence as we both walked and wondered what his impression of me was.

“So this is the dugout, obviously,” he spoke, not as agitated as he was just a while ago.

But I still kept my words to myself, in fear that he would snap at me once more. He led me down the steps of the dugout.

“These are the lockers,” he continued. “Over there’s the showers and shower lockers.”

The shower lockers were typical lockers.

We continued to saunter over to our next destination. Still, I felt a bit ashamed that I haven’t even spoken to this guy so far. I’m supposed to be getting along with the team, not fear them. To fill in the awkward silence, I broke the ice.

“So…” I started casually, “…your name is Tim?”

He no longer showed any annoyance or irritation. That was a good sign. “Yes, but everybody calls me Timmy.”

Tim, or Timmy, didn’t seem as bad now. I understand that he might’ve just been in a bit of a shock when he realized that I was the new teammate. Now that I think of it, it is a fairly expected response.

Timmy was lofty as well as scrawny. He had big brown eyes and appeared very young, teen-like in a way; he looked as if to be in his mid-twenties. A number of women would label him as handsome. I wasn’t quite sure if I was one of them.

“How long have you been playing in the Major Leagues?” I asked as we slowly turned a corner.

He made a pondering expression then answered, “It’s been about four years now.”

“Do you like your teammates?”

“Yes I really do. They’re supportive all of the time even if you fall into a slump; they’re like family to me. You’ll see once you get to know ‘em.”

We wandered through a door that led to a dark room. I flipped the light switch on.

“This is the press room; where the press interview you, of course,” he said.

“Awesome!” I said in astonishment. “I can’t wait to be up there one day answering questions and talking about how I managed to go nine scoreless innings.”

We ambled into the other room it led to.

“Last but not least, the exercise room.”

“Naw really?” I remarked sarcastically. “No wonder there’s so much exercise equipment in here.”

He chuckled a little, yet holding it in as if he did not want me to notice.

“Do you want to see all of the wonderful things around the park? ‘Cause I don’t really feel like practicing today.”

“Sure, sounds fun.” I thought for a bit, and then continued, “But what’s there to see around a park anyway?” I asked.

“You’ll see,” he answered as we slipped out the exit careful to not be seen.

We were once again unspoken as we strolled down the sidewalk near McCovey Cove observing all of the statues of players that have accomplished greatness in the sport of baseball. 

“What position do you play?” I asked.

“Pitcher,” he replied.

“That makes sense; no wonder he’s so scrawny,” I muttered under my breath.

“Come again?”

“Uhh…I said I’m a pitcher too.”

“Let me guess, you're a lefty, aren't you?”

I nodded.

“What pitching style do you use?”

“I pitch side-armed. I’ve seen your ‘legendary’ changeup, you gotta teach me that some time,” I said.

“Sure, I’ll teach you.” He paused a little as if thinking of something else to say, “Did you meet any of the players yet?”

“I met someone but I forgot his name. Um…Oh yeah, his name was Buster.”

“He’s my best friend,” he said.

 “Oh, my gosh!” shrieked a child running up to us. “Oh, my gosh you're Tim!”

“Yes I am, and I don’t know any kids so you must be a fan,” he said in the “baby tone”. The tone of voice everyone can't help but have when they speak to a child

“A huge fan. Can you sign my T-shirt please?”

“Sure little girl.” He picked up the black marker and signed the back of her shirt. “There you go,” he said happily.

“Oh thank you, thank you!” she shouted with joy as she returned to her mother.

“Timmy! Genny! Where are you two!?” called someone in the distance.

We peered our heads over the corner.

“Oh s**t! It’s Coach!” Timmy said.

We pressed our bodies against the hard cold cement wall; after a minute we had heard the door close.

“Okay he’s gone.” Timmy sighed in relief.

“I think we should head back to practice before we get in trouble,” I suggested.

“I agree.”

We quickly made our way back to the field; we crept back into the group of teammates surrounding the coach.

“Where have you two been all this time? It doesn’t take that long to look around,” snapped the coach. He glared at Timmy. “Tim.”

He hesitated, “Uhh…W�"we were�"”

“It’s my fault,” I blurted out. “Timmy said that we should be getting back to practice but I wanted to see…the wonderful things around the park; I’m sorry.”

“Oh. Well in that case, Genny take a lap, the rest of you hit the showers.”

Coach wasn’t kidding when he said equal treatment. I began running without complaining. I did not want to get into any more trouble than what I was already in; that would make even more of a bad impression. I watched as my teammates made their way to the showers, however, while I was turning the last corner I had left to run I noticed Timmy was still standing there. I jogged up to him, breathing heavily.

“Thanks for taking the fall for me,” he said.

I waited until my breath regained. “No problem, I like running,” I lied.

“But I feel so bad; I was all my fault. I wanted to show you around the park, if not for me, we would’ve been back to practice without any hassle.”

“It’s fine, I’m not mad at you; why else would I cover for you? I didn’t want my new friend hating me,” I admitted.

He smiled then left to catch up with the rest of the team. As I watched I heard him murmur something under his breath, “A new friend…rad.”

And then it hit me: Am I supposed to take showers in front of all of those guys?

 

*                              *                              *

 

“Coach, am I supposed to take a shower in front of all of them?” I protested.

“No, no I forgot to tell you, we have an extra shower down in the basement. At first it was broken but we fixed it just for you,” he said.

“Okay…But wait, isn’t the basement door on the other side of the boys’ showers? You mean I have to walk through naked men every day to get to my shower?”

“Well. Just cover your eyes when you go,” he said carelessly.

“And what about when I just get out the shower?  Am I supposed to walk all of the way to my locker, in nothing but a towel, to get dressed?” I complained.

“Now that we took care of; there’s also a shower locker in the basement.”

“But what about�"”

“If you don’t like it you could always take showers at your own house.”

“Fine,” I sighed, “It’s fine.”

“Thank you, now if you’ll excuse me, I have to get home,” he said as he strolled off.

After that I decided to check out the basement, after all I didn’t have anything better to do. After my teammates had all left the showers I sauntered over to the door that read basement in black letters. As soon I opened the door a medley of horrid aromas filled my nostrils; the basement reeked of mew dew and the ghastly smell of deceased rodents. I turned on the single light bulb that was dangling from the ceiling. I walked down the stairs which were creaking with every step. Once I had reached the bottom of the stairs I surveyed my surroundings. Despite the repulsive stench the basement was fairly clean. The shower was spotless and the locker as well

 “A bucket of air freshener and a little more lighting should do the trick,” I said out loud to myself.

Author's Note

Please do not copy. Focus on grammar and punctuation mistakes and the overall story. I would love to hear what you think of the book.