Chapter 24: Goals, Plans

Sunday April 17

I’d started to have weekly meetings with Caryn and Megan. They’d agreed to early Sunday afternoons if I gave them Friday afternoons off. I was entertained by their little work of fiction. They really didn’t have to work 40 hours a week yet. They were both on salary, so they were paid the same regardless of how many hours they worked. Mom and Dad told me that the two didn’t take advantage and seemed to get their work done, so I didn’t have any problems with it.

My odd work schedule meant that there were times when they might have to work seven days straight or weird hours. A good example would be when we were in LA and Caryn worked long days as my chaperone on set, in addition to her business manager duties. Hiring Caryn was one of the best decisions I’d made, and hiring Megan wasn’t far behind. Mom was very happy with Megan. She seemed to be a wiz at computers and bookkeeping.

What I didn’t expect was that Dad decided to tag along. We sat down in the conference room, and the first thing Caryn did was hand me an envelope. I opened it and it had an American Express card in it.

“I talked to Caryn, and we agreed there are times you’ll need to be able to buy something that your debit card won’t cover,” Dad explained.

I frowned.

“It’s not black,” I complained.

“The American Express Black Card is by invitation only. You have to be a member for at least a year and spend $250,000 or more. For the privilege of having one, they require a $7,500 initiation fee and then a $2,500 annual fee,” Caryn said.

That would be a big no. I didn’t need to spend that kind of money for a vanity card.

“Uncle John was thinking about another combine for the farm,” I teased.

Both Caryn and my dad flinched because they ranged from $300,000 on up. Fortunately, I began to laugh. I think if I’d kept my serious face on, they might have taken my new card away from me.

“We decided on the Platinum Card because it allows you to use their Global Lounge Connection at airports and because it provides other cool travel benefits,” Caryn said.

“Did you get Brook one?” I asked.

“Her mom is taking care of that.”

Megan came into the meeting.

“They’re here,” she announced.

I got up when Mary Dole and Granny walked in.

“I take it Caryn talked to you about our restaurant issue,” I said.

Caryn took us all down to the restaurant. The tenant had taken us up on our offer to exchange rent for disputed equipment and had already moved out. Both Mary and Granny wrinkled their noses when they saw the décor, which hadn’t been updated in twenty years. They seemed happy with the kitchen, and when we showed them the upstairs, they got excited.

“I see the downstairs as more of a casual dining place, and we can turn the upstairs into a banquet hall for weddings and the like. We can create a Friday and Saturday nightclub atmosphere with dinner and dancing,” Mary said.

Granny seemed to see her vision but was pensive.

“It would cost some money to get it started. This whole place needs to be remodeled. I would suggest we take it in steps and see if we can get the downstairs running before we tackle the upstairs.”

“I need your help to figure out what all needs to be done and come up with a budget and plan,” Caryn said.

“I’m in, if David’s willing to bankroll it,” Mary said.

I looked at Dad and he nodded. He’d obviously talked to Caryn about it.

“If Dad says yes, I’m in,” I said.

I was in. Dad took me aside while the women walked through and decided what they wanted to be changed.

“We forgot to tell you, but you need to come home after baseball practice tomorrow. Ohio State is doing an in-home baseball recruiting visit.”

I gave him a curious look.

“Sorry, but we’ve been keeping the intensity of your recruiting under wraps,” Dad explained. “The baseball recruiting has gotten hot since you hit six straight home runs and then beat State. I talked to your mom, and we decided that Ohio State could have first shot.”

I rocked back on my heels. These were the same parents who didn’t come to my first few games my freshman year. They were now deciding whom I should see?

“I thought I’d get a say in all this.”

“We’re working off your list,” Dad said.

“What list?” I asked.

“Your top ten football list,” Dad said.

I couldn’t even remember who that might be. Before I took my dad’s head off, I took a deep breath. Ohio State would always be on my list, so that wasn’t the issue. If I were being honest, this was on me. I’d dumped recruiting on Kendal and now Caryn since my freshman year. I’d had a conversation with my dad about my need to hand things off to others because I wanted to focus on school stuff like baseball and the play.

I gave Dad a weak smile.

“Okay, but could we maybe sit down and look at the list you’re working off? There might be some schools I would change,” I said.

“I’ll bring it home and we can talk about it,” Dad said.

I drove the Jeep to State and picked up my niece. Someone had opened his big mouth and promised her a horse. I’d had a chance to talk to Zoe and she agreed to ‘giving’ Mac one until we found out if she was serious or not. Zoe found it funny that I didn’t know that girls loved horses, and told me I’d be buying Mac one before this was all over.

Angie had put it off for a couple of weeks, but Mac had remembered that ‘Unca David promised.’ I was afraid that she was going to be like every other woman I knew and would remember everything I said the rest of my life.

When I arrived at married student housing, I was met at the door by Kyle and his new kitten. Nate was sitting in the middle of the floor, playing with his toys, when he saw me. He made the outstretched-arm motion that was the universal sign for me to pick him up. I did and then sat on the floor with Kyle as we petted his kitten.

I about fell over when Mac came out of her bedroom with Angie, all dressed up in western wear, complete with boots and cowboy hat.

“Horsey!” Mac yelled at the top of her lungs.

Angie laughed when she saw my shocked face. Someone was excited.

We apparently had to leave right now.

Zoe was fantastic with my niece. She helped her look at all the horses and pick the best one for Mac. It’s funny how you look at girls differently once you’ve had a child. Watching Zoe’s patience and enthusiasm as she talked to Mac made me realize that she could make a good mother someday.

Mac picked a big roan horse that had some grey hair starting around his eyes. He was a gentleman who’d been named Bolt because of the markings on his face. I saddled him, and Zoe pointed out another horse that needed exercise so we could go riding.

Mac went from overexcited to leaning back against Zoe and almost falling asleep as we rode. I thanked Zoe for helping me win the Best Uncle of the Year award from Mac. Of course, I was her only uncle, but one little girl was happy.

When I got home from dropping Mac off, both Coby and Little David were being fussy. Peggy and Mom looked worn out.

“Which one needs attention first?” I asked.

“Take Little David, he’s just tired and needs a nap,” Mom said, shoving him into my hands.

He was having none of it, so I pulled up his shirt and blew a raspberry on his tummy. His eyes got big and blinked at me.

“What’s up, Buddy?” I asked him.

Mom threw her hands up in the air and stormed out when he laid his head against my chest and settled down. Coby was hungry, so Peggy warmed up a bottle to feed him. I laughed when I looked back down at Little David and saw the redhead was out for the count.

“Shall we trade?” I asked.

Peggy looked relieved and we did a little dance until we figured out how to trade kids without dropping one of them. She took Little David upstairs to his crib.

Dad came out of the office and sat down at the kitchen table while I fed my son.

“I looked at the date on your list, and it was from the beginning of last fall. Why don’t we look at who you’re interested in again,” Dad suggested.

“In the Big Ten, my top three are Ohio State, Michigan and Michigan State. ACC would be Clemson and Florida State. SEC is Alabama, Kentucky and Florida. Big 12 I would think Baylor, Oklahoma and Texas. Pac 12 has to be USC and Stanford. If all else fails, I could go to State,” I said.

“What about Northwestern, Wisconsin, Iowa and Nebraska in the Big Ten?”

I think he wanted me to stay close to home. Something was apparent to me, though: the Big Ten West could be one of the easier routes to a National Championship. The East division had Ohio State, Michigan, Michigan State and Penn State. It made sense they would beat each other up. On the other hand, the West didn’t have any schools that really stood out.

The reason I said ‘routes to the National Championship’ was because I would almost guarantee you that the SEC and Big Ten would lock up two slots. The other two slots would be split between the ACC, Big 12, and Pac 12. There was an outside shot that either an Independent or someone outside the Power 5 might sneak in, but no one had yet. Of the Power 5, the Big 12 had the hardest road because they didn’t have a Championship Game.

“Everyone but Iowa could be a backup,” I said, remembering how they’d canceled my visit when I had my problems with Cal. “And not Notre Dame,” I added, remembering their reaction.

“Not every football school has a strong baseball program. Florida and Clemson are strong in both. Alabama and Ohio State aren’t bad,” Dad suggested.

“So why the sudden interest in letting someone have an in-home visit?” I asked.

“Frankly, your mom and I are interested in seeing what they have to say. I figured Ohio State would be a good first step because I knew you were also thinking about them for football.”

“Fair enough.”

“One more thing ... Ms. Dixon talked to Cal about his breach of our agreement.”

“How’d that go?” I asked.

“They worked out a deal where the consent decree would be modified to allow Cal supervised visitation only with prior written permission from your mom or me,” Dad explained.

“That makes me feel better.”

“You’re not going to like the final part of the deal,” Dad said with a smirk.

This didn’t sound good.

“You have to call Ms. Dixon and let her yell at you.”

I blanched at that.

“Why?” I asked.

“The way she explained it to me was that Cal’s visit to Pam and Coby, if we’d let it pass, would have been taken as our effectively waiving the ‘no-contact’ provisions of the injunction. A waiver is ‘the intentional relinquishment of a known right,’ and can be done by an action or inaction, in this case, inaction. Ms. Dixon was upset because she assumes Cal knew this and used the birth of Coby to try and break that provision of our agreement,” Dad explained.

“No one ever said Cal wasn’t smart. It’s too bad that we have to assume he’s up to no good.”

“Let’s put it this way: Ms. Dixon said he wasn’t surprised by her call. One more thing. Ms. Dixon said that neither Pam nor you can consent to allow Cal to visit because you’re both minors. If he calls either one of you for a visit, have him call me,” Dad said.

“Well, I’m glad Ms. Dixon took care of this. I guess I’ll call her and take my verbal beating.”

Dad reached over and messed up my hair.

“You’re a good kid. She just wants to remind you that you have to be careful and protect yourself, especially from someone like Cal. That’s why you have Ms. Dixon and others like Frank Ingram. I think she wants you to put her number on speed dial.”

“Funny you should say that, she’s number nine,” I admitted.

“You better tell me your mom is number one or there’ll be hell to pay,” Dad teased.

My eyes got big.

“I need to change that.”

He actually took a swipe at me! When Dad and I were done, I called Pam to get her up to speed. I then bit the bullet and called Ms. Dixon. I’m really glad she’s on my side.

Monday April 18

Stacy Clute was done penciling in the bulldog logo on my picnic table, and I’d brought my lunch today so I could paint it. When I walked into the school’s shop area, where they were storing the tables, I found Halle and Stacy painting it.

“Hey,” I complained.

“You know we’re better painters,” Halle said and stuck out her tongue.

“I thought...” Stacy said, looking confused.

“Never mind that,” Halle interrupted. “We didn’t need David messing up your work. The boy doesn’t seem to be able to paint within the lines anyway.”

I just ignored the shots at my artistic ability and grabbed a paintbrush. I wasn’t worried about the help. I really just wanted to get this done and off my list of things to do. I was relegated to painting the white circle around the logo. Halle and Stacy did the bulldog. Instead of the graphic one we had for our helmets and jerseys, they made it more lifelike. What took them forty minutes would have taken me a week of lunch periods to produce. I knew I could have eventually done the same, but they had more practice.

When we were done, I stood back and smiled.

“I think he approves,” Halle said.

“Oh yeah. You two did great,” I admitted.

I sent a text to Wolf for him to come check it out. He knew I was working on my table today, so he came right out.

“That looks good! All that’s missing is for the artist to sign his work,” Wolf said.

I smiled.

“Ladies,” I prompted.

They both smiled and signed their names at the bottom. I started to clean up.

“Aren’t you going to sign, also?” Stacy asked.

“Wolf didn’t sign, and he put the base coat of orange and blue down. I just painted the circle. You two did the actual art and should get the credit.”

“David’s right. You girls did a great job. I’ll let it dry for a couple of days and then we’ll put a clear coat over it to protect it,” Wolf said.

“Who hosted tables at lunch today?” I asked, to change the subject to the other junior project, Lunch Buddies.

“Tim, Brook, Zoe and I did it. It was actually a lot of fun. I met some new people, and Ms. Jaroslav joined our table today. She wanted to observe how it was going so she could report the success of our class projects to her bosses,” Wolf filled me in.

Alan had come through with this one. I would have to make a point to tell him. While I didn’t feel as close to him anymore, it didn’t mean that I needed to act like an ass, either.

During baseball practice, Moose and Coach Haskins had the outfielders working on fielding skills.

“The center fielder is in charge of fly balls. In our last game we almost had a collision when David called you off, Milo,” Coach Haskins said.

Milo had been in right field when a ball had been hit in between us. I’d called him off, but instead of backing me up, he had just stopped. It might have been an easier catch for him, but I had the better angle to throw the ball after I caught it. The base runner had gone halfway to second, and when he saw it was going to be caught, had just trotted back to first. My plan was to come up firing and double him up, but I ended having to dance around Milo, which threw off my momentum.

“If you hear David call out either ‘mine’ or a position, follow his directions. Sometimes it’ll be better for an infielder to get the ball,” Moose said.

“If you’re called off, back them up in case they drop it,” Coach Haskins said.

We practiced my making decisions on fly balls. If I didn’t say anything, it was theirs to catch. If I called them off, they moved back to give me room to catch it, but also to keep it from getting through. Letting a ball roll to the wall was a sure extra-base hit.

We then worked on backing up the infield. An errant throw that wasn’t backed up could mean extra bases. Coach Haskins hated to give up extra bases. He harped that each extra base was equivalent to the other team eventually scoring. That was why he wanted us to be aggressive on the base paths. It was much easier to score from second than it was from first. If you were on third, almost any base hit was an automatic run.

The final thing we worked on was deep fly balls.

“You have to be the eyes of your teammate. If he’s running back to the wall, you need to call it out before he hits the cinder track,” Moose said.

“Most high school fields don’t even have that,” Coach Haskins added.

At State and the better baseball fields, there was a cinder track along the outfield wall. This was in place for player protection. If you stepped off the grass and onto the cinders, you knew you were right there. The reason they wanted us to warn each other was that if you were going full out, the cinder track wasn’t enough warning. Hitting the wall was one of the quickest ways to get hurt.

It had been a good practice.

On the way home I fielded a call from Frank Ingram.

“David, I’ve got a slightly unusual request for an interview for you. It’s a photojournalist from a women’s magazine, Elle, who wants to do a video interview. She asked if you’d fly out to New York to do it.”

“Frank, you know my schedule. No way can I do that,” I complained.

“I already told them that,” he chuckled. “She said she’d come there to interview you.”

“This doesn’t make sense to me, Frank. Why would a women’s fashion magazine want me for a story. Even if it’s for their website?”

“I asked her that very question,” he responded. “The way she put it to me was that the demographic Elle serves, which is women aged twenty to forty, would have an interest in you and your story. Think of it as opening up a whole new demographic to your Q-Rating—the cougar set.”

I could just see him struggling mightily to hold in the laughter. Hmmm.

“Okay, but I’m not going to put myself out for it. If they want to do it that bad, she can interview me at the house.”

“I’ll let her know. We’ll see what happens,” he replied.

When I finally got home, I found Coach Bail, the head coach of Ohio State’s baseball team, sitting in the living room, talking to my parents, Uncle John and Grandma Dawson. Peggy had taken all the little ones, including Duke, to Pam’s condo. I hadn’t realized that my uncle and grandma would want to meet the coaches.

I recognized Coach Bail as one of the recruiters who’d been behind home plate for the State game.

“David, it’s good to finally meet you,” he said as he got up and shook my hand.

Coach Bail had been coaching baseball for 22 years. He had been the head coach at Western Illinois for eight years before he got the Ohio State job six years ago. He was one game under .500 his first year but had shown improvement since then. Each year after that they’d consistently been over .500, but not by a lot. His overall record was 402–325. At Ohio State, he was 159–125, or a little over 5 games over .500 each year.

What I got out of the discussion was that he was a good hands-on coach. It would be a fine place to play, but I didn’t see any National or Big Ten Championships in their future. Last year, Ohio State advanced to the Big Ten Tournament for the fifth consecutive year—the only Big Ten school to accomplish that feat—and posted a 35–20 overall record and 13–11 mark in Big Ten play.

He won my mom over when he talked about families, including his personal family, his athletics department family, and the families of the young men he coached. It was obvious this man cared about his job as well as the players, coaches and everyone else in his life. I liked him personally.

He then talked about how he saw me fitting in. He’d done his homework on me and was aware of my Under-18 invitation and the work I’d done with the Cubs hitting instructor. He was honest and said that there were older players that would probably be ahead of me, but there was a chance I could walk in and start because there would be open tryouts. I liked that he would give me a chance to prove myself.

“David, I’ve talked to Coach Casey, and he wanted me to convey that he wouldn’t have a problem with you playing both football and baseball. I know that there’ll be some overlap between spring football and baseball season. Of course, I’d prefer you just play baseball, but I want you to know that at Ohio State, you would have the full support of Coach Casey and myself in making it as easy as possible for you to play both sports.

“Coach Casey told me that he and his staff hadn’t had their in-home visit yet, but he would be ecstatic if you decided to play both baseball and football at The Ohio State University,” he said to finish his sales pitch.

After our talk, we had dinner and Coach Bail got to know us all better.

Tuesday April 19

My phone woke me up. I looked at the caller ID and sighed. Word must already be out about my first in-home recruiting visit.

“I didn’t set it up, my parents did,” I said, as soon as I picked it up.

“Someone has a guilty conscience. Our guy can be there for dinner tonight,” Bo Harrington, my former mentor and now quarterback coach for the Alabama Crimson Tide, said.

“I call bullshit. Alabama is not going to let me play both football and baseball. Coach Wilson couldn’t conceive of anyone not being 100% focused on football.”

I heard Bo laugh. Everyone knew that Coach Wilson ran his program almost like a pro team. If they would just wise up and make it so football players didn’t have to waste time in class, he would probably be happy. I would be shocked if he would let baseball interfere with football preparations.

“What if I told you he said that for you he would make an exception?” Bo asked.

“I’d call you a liar to your face,” I shot back.

“Okay, you got me,” Bo said with a snort. “What if I told you that you could play baseball IF it didn’t conflict with football and that Coach Gat was willing to let you play with those restrictions?”

Coach Gat was Alabama’s baseball coach.

“Look at you, working your magic to make me happy,” I teased him.

“I’m results-oriented,” Bo retorted.

That sounded like something his boss would say. I decided to test his resolve.

“I’ll believe Alabama is on board with me playing both baseball and football if you can get Coach Gat to dinner at the Dawson’s tonight.”

“Will you commit to Alabama if I make it happen?” Bo asked.

“No. We already discussed this. If I remember correctly, someone advised me not to make a commitment until spring of my senior year,” I said, using his advice against him.

“I told you that before I had the perfect place for college lined up for you,” he replied, and then got serious. “Wanna know a secret? I think we might have to start Wes Hunt as a true freshman.”

That had my interest. Wes might win them some games, but if the pressure was on, I was betting he would fold at the wrong time. I could walk onto campus as their savior. The only problem with my logic was that if Wes had a year’s experience with actual playing time, it would be hard to unseat him. I could end up on the bench the first three years.

Then again, I knew that every time we’d gone head-to-head, I’d beaten him.

What shocked me was that Coach Wilson might actually be thinking about starting a freshman. Quarterback was without a doubt the hardest position to just walk on and play. Coach Wilson must have some real problems if Wes Hunt would need to start. I didn’t say that to take anything away from Wes; he was the best quarterback in the senior class. I could name fifty teams that would beg to have him on campus starting for them. It was just that we were talking about Alabama, probably the best-run football team in college.

“I could actually start as soon as I walk onto campus,” I said in astonishment.

“I sometimes forget that you’re a ‘stupid boy’ and don’t read your own press clippings. I’ve seen both of you play, and I think you’d have a shot at unseating him,” Bo said.

I pondered what Bo was telling me.

“I really don’t want to deal with baseball recruiting right now. The Ohio State visit was something my parents set up so they would be familiar with the process,” I admitted.

“Good. I would have had to pull some strings to get Coach Gat there tonight, but I would have if you wanted me to.”

“Thanks.”

“How was it?” Bo asked.

I went into a five-minute spiel on the virtues of The Ohio State Buckeyes.

“Did you know that it snows there?” Bo threw out.

This time I had to laugh. If he wanted to play the weather card, I might have to tell him what it was like at USC. At least in southern California, it didn’t feel like there was 90% humidity when it got hot. We talked for a little longer, and then I had to get up and go run.

Tonight at baseball practice, it was just Moose working with the outfielders. He wanted to work in detail on balls where we had to contend with the wall or fence to catch.

“If a ball looks like it’ll be a home run, I don’t want you to do what David did earlier in the year and try to use the wall to boost you up to catch it. I say that with one exception: if we’re in the playoffs, and it’s the State Championship in the bottom of the seventh inning, do whatever it takes,” Moose said with a smile.

“Why shouldn’t we try to make that catch?” Dan asked.

“Two reasons. The first is that the chance of injury makes it not worth it. The second is that the odds of you making that play are slim. When I played baseball, I think I made five of those plays. I tore a ligament in my ankle on the last one. I had to have it reattached and was in a cast for six weeks. It still bothers me when the weather changes, almost forty years later.”

“If we do need to do it, what’s the right way?” Milo asked.

Moose went to the fence to demonstrate.

“Even a chain link fence like this can hurt if you run into it. Hit a pole and forget about it. I’ve seen players get knocked out, broken arms, bruised ribs and the like. I’m telling you, little dumbasses, this so that you understand that it’ll mess you up if you aren’t listening for your help,” Moose said, and then looked each of us in the eye.

“If you don’t call out a warning for your teammate, you’ll be sitting next to me in the dugout. Is that understood?” Moose asked.

“Yes, sir,” we all said in unison.

“The trick to doing it right is to use your non-glove hand to grasp the top of the fence. This is to keep your ribs from smacking into the wall,” he said with a half-smile as he demonstrated what would happen. “Then put your toe against the wall and push yourself up.”

It looked perfectly safe to me.

I went to Shiggy’s house after my dojo workout. Brook and Cassidy were curious about my Japanese lessons, so Shiggy agreed to let them come to dinner. He assured me that Hana had enough to feed everyone. I think Brook wanted to see if she needed to worry about Hana.

We were all hungry, so Shiggy had Hana serve dinner first. Cassidy got excited as she clapped her hands.

“Oh goody, tonkatsu.”

“You’ve had this before?” Hana asked.

“When I lived in Japan. It was one of my favorite things to eat,” Cassidy said.

Both Brook and I turned and stared at our friend. She waved us off.

“Daddy was posted in Nishiki, Japan when I was in second grade.”

“The Iwakuni base?” Hana asked.

“Marine Corps Air Station Iwakuni,” Cassidy clarified. “Daddy was stationed there for almost a year.”

Tonkatsu was a melt-in-your-mouth-tender breaded and deep-fried pork cutlet served with a side of miso soup, rice and a mountain of shredded cabbage. I had to agree with Cassidy, this was good.

I had my language lesson with Hana and Shiggy. Cassidy was actually good at it since she’d lived there, but it had been a number of years so she was rusty. At the end, Brook had a question.

“I hate to impose, but could we join David in his lessons?”

“No imposition. David pays for the food and the lessons,” Hana said, and then blushed. “That is if it’s okay with him.”

I was fine with them joining in.

“As long as you realize I need to get up to speed before my trip.”

I didn’t want them getting us off track.

“What trip?” Cassidy asked. “Can I go?”

I told them about my plans to go to Japan this summer. Brook gave me a half smile that dared me not to invite them.

“You do realize I’ll be doing commercials,” I said to try to head this off.

“That’s okay. Brook and I can keep busy when you’re working,” Cassidy said.

“You have to get permission from your parents,” I tried, but as soon as I said it, I knew that wouldn’t be a problem for either of them. They each had their dads wrapped around their little fingers.

I came home to find Tami and Uncle John in our kitchen.

“Goals?” I asked.

Uncle John nodded.

I had to deal with Duke. I could hear him tearing down the stairs. He must have been on the third floor with the babies. I opened the back door and he flew by me to get to the back yard. I smiled when I saw he had his favorite tennis ball in his mouth.