Date: Wed, 12 Jun 2013 07:59:25 -0700
From: Douglas DD DD <thehakaanen@hotmail.com>
Subject: Diamond Dreams  Chapter 29

Welcome back. All of the disclaimers continue to apply. Please
support the Nifty Archive. Be safe—always.

The Titans, the Falcons, Lars, Eric, so much of Mayfield baseball, has
hit bottom. But maybe there is a ray of hope. There is a boy who
keeps stepping up his leadership skills. In this chapter he swallows
some pride and stares down a powerful and determined adult.

Comments are welcome at thehakaanen@hotmail.com

Douglas


CHAPTER 29
SCRAPING BOTTOM-Falcons Summer Team Edition

<Monday, May 25>

After losing both of their games on Saturday, the Falcons had another
game scheduled for Monday, Memorial Day. It was at home against a
team from Vancouver, Washington.

Once again the Falcons didn't play well, making four errors in the field
and not exhibiting much discipline at the plate. Rich, Rodney, and
Jerome all pitched, but only Rich seemed to be able to concentrate
consistently. Rodney, who was the best pitcher on the team, often
looked like he wasn't interested, and Jerome, although he tried hard,
simply wasn't a very good pitcher. Hunter and Kraig each got some
pitching in as well, but they looked overmatched. The result was a
lopsided 14-2 loss. Because it was a non-league game and both
coaches wanted to play all of their players as much as possible, they
had agreed ahead of time to forgo the 10-run mercy rule, so the
game went the full seven innings, even though the Falcons were
down 11-1 after five. The last two innings were played with the
coaches doing the umpiring since the game had officially ended after
five innings.

After the game, Coach Miller gave them the usual platitudes about
working hard, coming together as a team, and taking pride. He also
noted to himself that about half the team seemed to have him tuned
out. There was no question in anybody's mind that, at least as far as
the Falcons were concerned, baseball in Mayfield was scraping
bottom.

"Why is it that nobody seems to care?" Eric asked as he and Noah
sat in Eric's living room with his dad. "We were all full of fire and
energy and were doing things and building the Go to State Team, so
it's not like nobody ever cared before."

"Oh, I think your teammates care," Eric's dad said. "But it's been a
hard few months. A lot of things have happened that have
discouraged enough people to let it weigh down the team. Some
people have responded better to the events in their lives than others."
He looked at Noah when he said that, meaning it as a compliment to
how Noah had been handling the loss of his best friend. Noah
nodded in silent acknowledgement.

"But nothing I do works," Eric said.

"Part of that is that you're as discouraged as the others. There was
no spark on that team this afternoon. No cheering or chatter from the
dugout. No chatter from the field. You were a group of boys going
through the motions. You all look like you've lost sight of your goal."

"Then how do I get it back?"

"You start by no longer saying `I'', his father said. "You just told me,
`Nothing I do works, `followed by, `how do I get it back?'. It's time for
both of you to start saying `we'. The whole problem with your team is
that the word `I' has become your most important word, and you're
playing like it."

"I think we start with an email about the carwash next weekend,"
Noah said, "plus a follow-up text. And we start talking about WE."

"Then I guess we better go upstairs to my computer and write it," Eric
said. That was what the two boys spent the next hour doing. Eric
wrote about how important it was for everyone to be at the carwash.
He reminded the Falcon players that this was a team thing which
would help get them pointed towards a great summer season. After
both boys agreed with what they had written, Eric clicked send.

"Now, if I could just believe what we wrote," he said to Noah. Noah's
answer was to stick his hand inside Eric's sweats and get his flaccid
teen cock into a state of tumescence. It wasn't long until they were
naked on Eric's bed, each with a cock in his mouth, taking care of the
hormonal needs of young adolescence.

<Tuesday, May 26>

Any person, group, team, or organization hits a low point. Some lows
are lower than others. Sometimes that low can be destructive, and
sometimes it can be a place upon which to build. The response to
that low point can say a lot about that person, group, or organization.
For the Falcons and the Go to State Team, Tuesday was the starting
point of the path that would determine if the group would recover and
grow, or if it would fall apart. At the moment, they were sending the
message to many of the citizens of Mayfield that they were right when
they said adolescent boys could not be expected to operate a
successful organization. But some things happened that Tuesday
which gave a hint as to the team's future, even if nobody put the
pieces together right then.

The biggest happenings of the day involved Lars's father, Neil
Anderson, PhD. That morning he had a meeting scheduled with the
chair and vice chair of the Rainbow Coalition, the gay organization on
campus. While Neil Anderson didn't approve of gays or the gay
lifestyle, he knew that working with them was part of his job and he
took it seriously. Also, Troy and Alicia were both nice kids and he
enjoyed talking with them.  They discussed the Rainbow Coalition
sponsoring booths in the Student Union lounge. Dr. Anderson laid
down some ground rules, the three of them negotiated some other
rules, and the meeting broke up amicably.

Troy lingered a moment after Alicia left. "Thanks again for your help
and understanding, Doctor Anderson. It means a lot to us to have the
Dean of the school willing to listen to us and work with us." He looked
at the pictures on Neil's desk. "Nice looking family."

"Thanks. I'm proud of them." He didn't say the words `except for my
older son', but he thought them.

"Your oldest son, he looks like he's maybe twelve or thirteen."

"He's my older son," the former English professor corrected. "He was
thirteen in the picture; he's fourteen now. He looks young for his age,
although he is pretty tall and lanky. He's in that `all legs' stage of
development."

"He's lucky to have a dad like you," Troy said. "I was fourteen when I
came out to my family. That was six years ago. It was the last time
my dad and I ever talked to each other, except when we had to. He
didn't kick me out, but I know he wanted to. If it wasn't for my mother I
don't know what I would have done. I decided to do my first two years
of school here instead of Seattle, just to get away from him. I mean I
would have to leave anyway once I hit eighteen."

"I'm sorry to hear about that," Neil Anderson said sincerely, ignoring
Troy's grammatical faux pas. At the moment his mind was in denial
and he failed to see the parallels between Troy and Lars.

"Yeah, we used to do a lot of stuff together. Play catch, go to games,
go to concerts, work on his motorcycle, stuff like that. He was a pretty
good dad. Then I say I'm gay and it's like I got horns on my head or
something. I know you'd never treat your kid like that. I mean if my
dad just let me be me, it would have been cool, but I had to be what
he thought I was." Troy blushed and looked down at the floor. "Sorry
Doctor Anderson, I didn't mean to waste your time with my life
history."

"Not a problem, Troy. I'm pleased you trusted me enough to say that.
Good luck with your Gay Pride Day booths. I'll be sure to come by
and take a look. We're a small branch campus in a small town, but it's
important we understand what diversity is all about."

After Troy left, Neil Anderson thought about what Troy had to say. He
seemed to express disappointment and hurt more than anger. Neil
had been impressed by how the young student had presented
himself.

Neil looked at the picture that had attracted Troy's attention. He
looked at Lars, his blond hair gleaming, his smile making his entire
face glow with happiness. He hasn't smiled like that in weeks, Neil
thought, as Troy's words started to sink in. Am I the same as Troy's
father? Or am I worse? Am I selfish because I don't want the world to
know I am the father of a gay son? I sit here at my desk and tell the
dozen or so gays on campus I support them, but I can't give my
support to my own son? He looked at the clock on his wall and at the
calendar on his desk. He had no appointments scheduled. He
grabbed his hat, walked out into the outer office and told his secretary
he was leaving for the afternoon.

Instead of heading west on Highway 12 for Mayfield, he headed east
towards Clark Pass. Lars was playing his last game of the spring
there. Neil Anderson had not planned to go, but what Troy had to say
about his own father had an effect. Since he had no appointments he
decided to watch his son play. His issue, after all, was with his son
saying he was gay, not with his son himself. He thought that maybe if
he made an appearance at the game, Lars would forgive him for his
stand on not playing summer ball or attending Mayfield High School
next year. Neil was hoping that the surprise appearance would show
Lars that he cared.

As he drove the winding highway up to the pass, he thought about his
last argument with his son. Lars had come into his den and set some
forms on his desk. Neil asked him what the forms were for.

"They're for summer baseball," Lars said. "I was hoping maybe you'd
change your mind and sign them so I could play...please."

"Lars, I told you that I was not going to allow you to play with those
boys. I let you play school baseball because I knew you'd be closely
supervised." Neil would have thought much differently if he'd known
about the seventh grade boner rallies. "You will have far too much
unsupervised time with them when summer comes, and I will not
allow that."

"But they're my friends. You won't let me see any of my friends. You
won't let me do anything." The politeness Lars had exhibited, which
was the behavior his father had always seen from his son, was
disappearing quickly as Lars's resentments against his father seemed
to bubble constantly. "Why can't you sign them? You're always
spying on me anyway, so how am I going to get away with anything?"

Neil Anderson picked up the forms, pointedly tore them in half, and
dropped them into his wastebasket. "That should end the discussion."

"I hate you! I will always hate you!" Once again, Lars raged out of the
room, an act that had become all too common.

As he drove up towards the pass, Neil wondered how he could get
Lars to understand that the issue wasn't baseball, it was his friends
and the bad influence they were having on him and his behavior. He
needed Lars to understand that having a gay in the family did nor
reflect well on them or on him. Maybe my surprise visit to the game
will help, Neil thought. And maybe a trip together this summer will
ease the pain of not playing ball.

Neil arrived just before the first pitch. He would have been surprised
had he known that his son's reaction was not one of happy surprise,
but rather one of anger.

"Guess who just showed up to spy on me?" Lars asked Kevin, hoping
his father would notice who it was he was talking to.

[MARTY]

I couldn't believe that Mr. B wanted me to go to the middle school
game with him. He wrote an excuse to get me out of school early and
everything. He's my guardian now and can sign stuff like that. My dad
doesn't give a shit and my mom is hard to find, what with her working
weird hours. I still go to see mom and my brother John because I love
them, but first I always make sure that the asshole who lives there
isn't home.

Mr. B gave his staff the day off so they could get a four day weekend.
They should try that at school, too; I sure wouldn't complain. He does
that a lot if he doesn't have to be in court before a three-day
weekend. He's a pretty cool guy, and as far as I'm concerned he's my
dad.

"Hey, Sparky," I said when I got into the car. "Thanks for taking me.
This will be cool."

"Hi, Marty. I thought you'd like seeing your buddies play their last ever
middle school game."

"Well, you were right as usual."

During the forty-five minute drive to Clark Pass we talked about
school, baseball, sobriety, and the goings on of Hurricane Jeffrey. I
told him the problems we were having keeping everybody interested
in the whole Go to State thing.

"It looks like the initial enthusiasm has given way to teen burnout," Mr.
B. said. "What looked like a lot of fun has turned into work, which
starts to become drudgery. Plus, you have a lot of individual
jealousies and issues dividing some of your teammates."

"That's not how it is with me, or Eric, or Rich, or Noah, or Kevin..."

"I didn't mean that everybody has thrown in the towel. But enough
seem to have lost interest to make your group become almost
irrelevant. It's not uncommon, even among adults."

We talked about the upcoming carwash. I told Mr. B. what me and
Eric had planned beyond sending out the emails and texts. There
was also going to be phone calls and a personal invitation to each
member of the group; or at least to each person we thought was a
member of the group.

"It sounds like you have things under control. You're showing yourself
to be quite a leader."

"Oh, hell no. I'm just the chair guy, Eric is the real leader."

We arrived at the Clark Pass Middle School field a few minutes
before the game was supposed to start. I noticed Lars's dad arrive
and walk up into the bleachers. Me and Mr. B were sitting in lawn
chairs just beyond the left field fence. I'd told Mr. B about the
problems with Lars and how they had been affecting the group and
Mr. B said he wished somebody could talk sense into his father. He
was going to lose himself a son, who was a really good kid.

The Titans grabbed a quick 3-0 lead on a three-run homer by Carl in
the top of the first. Damn, but Carl could rake. It was 5-0 by the
bottom of the fourth. I saw Coach Miller arrive and I got an idea. "I'll
be back in a bit," I told Sparky.

I sat next to Coach Miller in the bleachers and talked some general
kinds of shit with him for a couple of minutes. I asked the coach if he
had any of the paperwork packets for the summer team.

"Marty, I know you turned yours in or you wouldn't have even been
out on the field the last couple of days."

I told him that the paperwork wasn't for me. Coach Miller said he may
have an extra copy in his briefcase in the trunk of his car. We went to
his car and he found a couple of packets. I took the papers and
climbed back onto the bleachers. I took a deep breath and sat next to
Neil Anderson.

"Hello, Mr. Anderson."

"Well, hello Marty. To what do I owe the privilege of a visit?"

"I don't know if it's much of a privilege, but I wanted to talk to you
about something."

"I've heard pretty impressive things about you. People say you're a
young man who has accomplished quite a lot."

I said nothing about that. I didn't want the conversation to be about
me. Instead I put the packet of forms on his lap.

"Why are you giving me these?"

"I heard the ones Lars got were accidently thrown away." I could tell
that the man next to me was getting a little pissed, but I took a deep
breath and kept on going. "Okay, look, I'm not trying to tell you what
to do with Lars, even if I think it's wrong and unfair."

"Maybe you should go back down and sit with your dad." I could tell
he was now officially pissed.

"He isn't my dad, although I wish he was. I'll go, but first you gotta
know why I'm with him and not my dad."

"I'm really not interested in your personal problems, Marty."

I could see why Lars was in such a funk. His dad had a serious
problem listening to all kids, not just his own kid. I wondered if he
thought he was too smart for us or something. But I ignored what he
was saying and kept going. I figured if anybody was going to get up
and leave right now it was going to be him and not me. I would leave
when I was ready to leave.

"I'll make this short. I'm gay." I almost said I'm gay just like Lars, but I
caught myself. That would've been a totally dumb thing to say. "I
came out to my father and he kicked my ass out of the house. My
father treats me like shit, like I'm a nobody. We haven't talked since
he kicked me out and I have to work not to hate him.

"I live with Mr. B and his family now. He's my guardian and he's my
dad as far as I'm concerned. I love him because he accepts me and
loves me. Lars wants to run away because you won't love him for
what he is. He tells us how much he hates you." I wasn't going to go
this far, but I figured fuck it, I'll go all in and see what happens. "It's
not right for him to hate you like that. He's a really great kid and he
always thought you were a great dad. There's nothing wrong with
being gay and that's all I have to say and thanks for listening."

I got up and left. If I kept talking, I was going to start cussing at him or
something and that wouldn't be good. I hoped I didn't screw things up
for Lars, but I had to say what I said, whether it was my business or
not. It probably wasn't my business, but I really didn't like seeing what
was happening to Lars. I mean he hardly ever smiles any more and
looks like he's never having any fun.

I sat down next to Mr. B. I think I was breathing kind of hard.

"What was that talk all about? It looked like you were getting pretty
animated."

I told him what was said and he gave me one of his funny looks.
"Sometimes I can't figure out if it's you or if it's Jeffrey who is the
biggest hurricane."

<Wednesday, May 27, Mayfield Middle School>

The JV girls softball team piled off the bus followed by the varsity
boys. The boys had enjoyed a 7-1 win, with Scott pitching five
innings, followed by Lars and Hunter throwing one each. The girls
had lost their game 14-12. The boys were all in a good mood. Even
though they finished with only a 4-8 record, they did win three of their
last four games and had played much better baseball. After their
horrid start, they did manage to salvage a little bit of pride with their
finish.

Eric made sure to talk to everybody about the upcoming carwash. He
let all of his teammates know how important it was for them to be
there as he gave them their schedules for the wash. He tried to make
each of his teammates feel special and wanted. He knew Marty
would be doing the same thing at the high school over the next
couple of days. Marty, Rich, Eric, and Noah all agreed that they had
become too negative about what was happening with the Go to State
Team. They thought that maybe if they tried a more positive tack they
might get some better results. At any rate, it couldn't hurt.

Neil Anderson left Clark Pass as soon as the game ended. He had
been pleased to see his son pitch a perfect sixth inning, but he
couldn't totally enjoy it. While Troy's story had struck a chord with
him, he failed to see how it applied to him personally. He didn't see
his issue with Lars as being the same as what Troy's father had with
his son. To him, he wasn't condemning Lars for being gay, he was
restricting him from being around those who made him think he was
gay.

But Marty's emotional plea had struck him personally. It had come
from a boy who knew his son and who knew the situation. In many
ways Marty sounded like his wife, telling him to accept Lars for who
he was rather than try to turn him into somebody else. He was
surprised to hear Marty admit he was gay, especially knowing how he
felt about Lars. He couldn't help but wonder if every boy in town was
gay. It was beginning to appear that way to him.

At that moment, however, his concern was with his son. Neil realized
it had taken a lot of courage for Marty to sit next to him and bare his
soul. Troy had shown courage, too, but not in the same manner Marty
had. Marty had risked and received his wrath by telling him he was
gay and telling him how he was going to lose Lars, if he already
hadn't.

Neil sat at his desk at home and looked at the packet of forms for
summer baseball. He filled in the appropriate blanks and placed his
signature on the forms. He thought some more about his actions until
he heard somebody entering the house. It was either going to be his
daughter, Ann, or Lars. He walked into the hallway and saw Lars, still
in his uniform, munching on an apple.

"Where's mom?" Lars asked somewhat coldly. "I'm hungry."

"She had a late appointment for Alex. She's bringing takeout." Alex
had been dealing with earaches.

"Oh." Lars headed for his room, but his father stopped him.

"We need to talk, son."

"Why? You've got nothing to say to me that I want to hear." Neil
Anderson was now quite aware that the sullen teenager his son had
turned into was his own creation. His intolerant actions had given
birth to this version of Lars. He had hurt his son just as sure as Troy
and Marty's fathers had hurt their sons.

"Come in and talk anyway...please." Lars blinked when he heard his
father say please. It was the first time in a while his father had used a
conciliatory tone of voice when speaking to him.

Lars shrugged his shoulders and entered the den, sitting down on the
leather chair next to his father's desk. His father handed him a
clipboard with papers attached to it. Lars recognized the top page as
the contract the Go to State Team had created. He saw his father's
signature on it. "What am I supposed to do with it?" he asked,
somewhat perplexed.

"How about using the pen and signing it."

"Why?" Lars wasn't quite sure where this was leading. He couldn't
help but wonder if he was somehow being tricked by his father; now
that baseball was over his father was going to lead him on by having
him sign the document and then tear it up to rub his nose into all of
the shit around him even more. Since he couldn't think of anything
else to do other than shout out that he hated his father and then
stomp out of the room, he put his fingers around the pen and signed
the contract. He was surprised to see his hand shaking. Walking out
of his father's den screaming was getting old, even for Lars.

Lars held the clipboard tightly, afraid of what might happen if he
handed it to his father. "Why?" he asked one more time.

"Because I was wrong. I love you son, as much as a man can love
anything in the world. I blamed everybody else for turning you into
something I didn't like. By not listening to you and trying to make you
into what I wanted you to be instead of accepting you for who you
are, well, I destroyed your happiness. I am sincerely sorry and hope
that someday you will see fit to forgive me and not hate me."

Lars still had no idea what to say, so he lowered his head. Suddenly,
what had been building up in him for weeks came out all at once. He
sobbed uncontrollably, a fountain of tears running down his cheeks
and falling on the clipboard, smearing the signatures. He didn't care.
All he cared about right then was that his father loved him, which was
all he ever wanted from him. Neil Anderson held Lars against his
chest as his fourteen year old son soaked his father's shirt with his
tears.

The prison wall had come down, but there were wounds remaining on
both sides that would take much longer to heal.

<Saturday, May 30, Mel's Service Station>

Marty and Eric were pleased not only with the turnout by the Go to
State Team at the carwash, but by the positive attitude of everybody
involved. From the sign holders along the main road, to the washers
and wipers, they all worked hard and had a good time. They rotated
jobs to keep everybody interested.

The entire group was happy to see Lars show up. They knew he'd be
there, although he hadn't told anybody about his father's change of
mind until the day after he and his dad had their talk.

"I can even spend the night with you," Lars told Kevin. "But no
messing around outside of my bedroom and Alex better not be
anywhere near us when you come to my house."

"Your dad is going to let us mess around?" Kevin asked.

"He didn't, like, say that. What he said was we can't mess around
outside of my bedroom or with Alex around. Which I guess means we
can mess around in my bedroom."

"Whatever. When can I come?"

"Tonight sounds good."

That made Kevin happy, especially since Hunter had gotten the go-
ahead from his father to let Kraig spend the night over a week ago.
"He says he thought he told me it was okay and kept wondering why
you never came over."

"That's probably a lie," Kraig said. "But it's cool. I'll be there tonight.
He probably missed perving on my body. I'll be sure to wear the
tightest bikini briefs I've got for him to see me in."

"You're bad," Hunter said. "Too bad you don't have a thong. That
would be worse."

"I do have one," Kraig said, laughing. "But we can't give your old man
a heart attack; we need his money for the Falcons."

When they weren't working at washing cars, Eric and Marty both
talked to the team members, telling them how much they appreciated
them being there and how great their season was going to be. By the
end of the day a lot of the bad feelings between the players had
dissipated. There were still some problems to be dealt with. It would
be awhile before everything was brought to the surface. The carwash
had brought them a little closer, but they were still a long way from
the team that had gone undefeated in the middle school league a
year ago and had made an impression with their inspired play last
summer. It would take their long awaited trip to California to bring
things to a head.

Next: California Dreaming