Chapter 50
— Scout —
Over the weeks, I progressed from home rehabilitation to meeting Linney at the ballpark for light gym work. It was a slower road to recovery than last time, and I grew frustrated and impatient to get out onto the pitch again.
Worse still, the latest round of scans showed that the tendons weren’t knitting as fast as we’d hoped. And while I was due to start gentle throwing in the next week or two, the purse of Linney’s lips told me otherwise.
“I’m gonna give you permanent frown lines,” I joked.
She glanced up and gave a wry smile. “You already have. And unfortunately, this elbow of yours is giving me more.”
With a huff, she sat in her office chair and rolled a little closer to where I sat on the massage table. “Bobby and Henrick would like to talk with you.”
My feet immediately stopped swinging. A personal visit from the manager plus GM was never a good sign. I bit back the ugly roll in my stomach and focused on breathing away the first fingers of bile reaching up my throat. They burned, and swallowing did nothing to ease it.
“They’re going to retire me early, aren’t they?” I murmured to Linney, barely audible over the roaring in my ears.
Her expression grew more solemn. “I can’t discuss the details with you, Scout, but I had to give them a report and my professional recommendation.”
An ache in my chest like no other had me pressing my hand against my sternum. “Linney, please.”
The news was always possible, but the dismay had me gulping for air. Playing baseball was my life. It was my identity. To have that stripped away further than it already was, was utterly devastating.
“They’re waiting for you in Bobby’s office. I’m sorry, Scout.”
I sniffed back the prickling sting of tears. “So that’s that, then?”
The tears shimmering in Linney’s eyes cut me deep. I pressed my thumb and forefinger into my eye sockets to shove my own back in.
“I can’t say for sure,” she whispered thickly. “Either way, you’ll remain under my care until you’re fully rehabilitated. If you want to see me after the meeting, my door is always open.”
It was an offered dismissal. One that I took after staring at her for a beat before setting my feet on the floor. Linney opened her arms and hugged me tight. She wasn’t just my physiotherapist; she was my friend.
She rubbed her hands briefly over the curve of my shoulders. “Now get out of my office and quit making me blubber like a baby.”
“Give it ten minutes, and I’m sure we’ll both be,” I deadpanned, trying for humor once more but utterly failing again.
A little snort came from behind me as I turned away, followed by the sound of multiple tissues being plucked from their box.
Once out into the quiet hallway, I pressed a hand to my chest again. Fuck, my pulse galloped. The acidic bile remained high in my throat, and while I wanted to dash to the bathroom, I forced myself to remember Toni’s counseling.
I am in control of my actions. This does not control me.
Leaning against the cold concrete wall, I closed my eyes, inhaled through my nose, then blew it out long and hard through my mouth. I did that three times before some of the weight lifted from my lungs. Though still at the forefront of my mind, the unease in my gut had eased enough for me to open my eyes and suck in a large inhale.
With my chest filled and my head clearer, I strode down the corridor, making my way to Bobby’s office.
He and Henrick were casually chatting when I knocked on the open door, and both swung my way.
Bobby rounded his desk and nodded instead of offering to shake the hand of my injured arm. “Come in, Gats.”
“Thanks.” I nodded back, then did the same to Henrick.
“Good to see you again, Scout,” Henrick said, pushing off the windowsill where he’d been leaning his ass, then indicated to the couches. “Let’s take a seat, shall we?”
I did as invited while Bobby closed the door, sealing the three of us in his office and away from prying ears.
I sat but didn’t relax into the cushions like they did. Instead, I perched on the edge of the seat with my forearms resting on my knees.
“Look, can we just cut the shit? I’m assuming that we’re all here because you’re wanting to retire me early,” I said pointedly to the Bears’ general manager.
Beside him, Bobby shifted uncomfortably, but Henrick remained relaxed, though his brows lifted a little.
“You’re a smart man, Scout. This can’t have come as a complete surprise to you…” I ground my teeth but didn’t interrupt his spiel. “Offering you an early retirement from the Bears was not an easy decision for us to make. There was extensive consultation with both management and medical teams. The injury, healing progress, your position with the team, as well as your age has been taken into account.”
He at least looked regretful while delivering that sucker punch.
I blew out a long breath and divided my attention between Henrick and Bobby. “I’m sure I could make a comeback.”
Bobby weighed in. “You could, but we’re concerned about the longevity of your career after, what? At least twelve to sixteen months of healing and rehab? We know you could rejoin the team, but the risk of re-straining or needing another UCL reconstruction is higher now that you’ve sustained both. You’re one helluva pitcher, Gats, and we don’t want to lose you like this, but we have to consider the entire team as well as the individual and try and do our best by both.”
I nodded as the weight of his explanation sank in. He was right, but it didn’t make it any easier to come to terms with.
My focus shifted up from the floor as Henrick spoke again. “You have a deferred payments clause in your contract, so you will receive a portion of your salary as stipulated. Medical expenses after your retirement for your Tommy John, and any subsequent issues in relation to that injury, will also be covered by the association.” He paused a moment before smirking. “We also have a unique proposal for you, Scout. One that has been in the pipeline with the association for a while, and now we can confirm that the rumors are true.”
Christ, I began to feel ill again. I sat back and ran a hand through my hair. “What rumors are those?”
Bobby leaned forward, watching me carefully with excitement coloring his expression.
“San Antonio is resurrecting a team to bring back to the MLB,” Henrick announced with an air of mystery. “The Sluggers. And they’re looking for an all-star pitching coach to join their ranks of management.”
“You’re trading me? To Texas?” I choked out, utterly shocked at his audacity. Na?vely, I thought I’d always be a part of the Bears. They’d been my home club for years.
Bobby placated me with his hands raised. “Scout, listen, we would love to keep you here, but there are simply no vacancies. We wouldn’t be suggesting the move to San Antonio unless we thought you had it in you to make a hell of an impact in the league. In fact, I wish we could keep you because, with you as the bullpen coach, this team is going to give us hell in the league. This is an opportunity to pave your future, Scout. One you should give serious consideration.”
I nodded, numb and reeling inside. There was so much to consider. So much unknown, and the risks were real. Introducing a new team into the league was no picnic. It could take years. And even then, if the team wasn’t good enough, it wouldn’t last long.
I rubbed my chin, eyeing their animated expressions in turn. “Can I think about it? It’s not just me I’m making the decision for now…”
Henrick leaned forward and offered his business card. “Take a few days to think about it, but let me know either way once you’ve made a decision. The early retirement still stands regardless of you accepting or passing on the San Antonio offer.”
While looking at his card but not reading a damn thing, I nodded again. “Okay.”
Henrick stood and clasped me on my left shoulder. “You did the Bears proud, son, and I wholeheartedly believe that the acclaimed Scout Gatlin is destined for more greatness despite it being off the pitch.”
I bit back the thump forming in my throat. His praise meant a lot, but it seemed so final.
“Thanks,” I grit out. “I’ll be in touch.”
Turning to Bobby, I held out my fist. “I’ll see you and the guys tomorrow for the game, yeah?” We had a home series this week, and I wouldn’t miss it for the world.
Relief eased his tight expression, and he bumped his fist against mine. “See you tomorrow, Gats.”
With my heart hanging heavy and without looking back, I walked from Bobby’s office with my head high. A ruse. Because inside, I was breaking in two right down the middle.
The first tears of heartbreak welled a few steps after passing through the exit doors. I shoved on my sunglasses to hide them from the world. But as I slid behind the wheel of my car, I couldn’t see a damned thing through the thick sheen blurring my vision.
My entire world had been torn out from beneath my feet, leaving me floating and lost. All I wanted to do was go home. Get home to Remmy.