The Phenom Page #5

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Tomorrow, they'll wrap a fish in it.

I'll have to come back for more, fresh.

Sorry, it's exhausting for me too.

Takes a lot of medicine

to keep up to this pace.

I'm on the Red Bull, heavy.

After this, I have to go on Twitter

and think of something

charming/cutting/provocative/

sexy/informative to tweet.

And then condense it into

a pithy anecdotal

making sure not to go over

the heads of feeble-minded frat boys.

It's a fairly f***ing relentless grind.

Yeah, I noticed that.

Hm. I'm still on school schedule, Hop.

I don't know who else to call, sorry.

Wait, wait, wait.

Hold on. I've got, like, no signal here.

I'm gonna go out on the porch

so I can hear you better.

All right, kiddo, go ahead.

I don't know. Last week, you know,

I seemed to be getting better.

Tonight, I can't find the plate.

I never know who's

gonna show up, you know.

Sometimes, we're who we want to be,

sometimes we're just

some dunderhead chump.

That's the way it goes. That's okay.

Sometimes your cutter is hitting,

sometimes it's not.

But there's no need

to, like, elaborate on it,

and beat the sh*t out of yourself

all the time the way you do.

You add this extra layer of anguish by

judging yourself so harshly all the time.

Yeah. I just wish I could forget about

stuff when I'm out there, you know.

Forget about stuff from yesterday.

Yesterday can't be junked.

You can't just get rid of it.

There's no way to push it aside,

or dig a hole and bury it.

- You know what I'm saying, kid?

- Yeah.

How's Dorothy?

I don't know.

I think she thinks I'm shallow.

You got to be Paul Robeson with her.

She's done with it, you know.

Who's Paul Robeson?

He's an all star who got blacklisted.

A pariah. Where the f*** am I right now?

I'm sorry for calling you,

waking you up. Go back to sleep.

All right?

Who should I make this out to?

- Uh, Fallon.

- Fallon.

How do I spell Fallon?

Does anyone have a pen? Do you have a pen?

Thank you. What is it?

- F-A...

- F-A...

- L-L...

- L-L...

- O-N.

- O-N.

Cool name.

There you go.

- Thank you.

- Yeah.

Sign the ball, please.

- Yeah? Sign it?

- Yeah.

- Please.

- All right.

Thanks. Could you sign this card, too?

Yeah.

My dad says you are going to be fine.

Here you go.

He says you're going to

get your control back in no time at all.

Um, could you show me

your curve-ball grip?

Could you show me a curve-ball grip?

- Let's see your grip.

- All right, cool.

- So, two seams, two seams, get it.

- Yeah, there you go.

- All right.

- Something like that?

Yeah, all right, that's good.

But see the hardest thing for me

to figure out is, you got to snap this.

- Snap it like that?

- Yeah.

There you go. You can't throw it

like a fast ball.

Hm-mm, so right around like that?

- So...

- Dude!

Are you handing out instructions now?

- Better go.

- That is f***ing scary.

Thanks, Hopper.

That's the good thing

about youngsters though, right?

They are undiscriminating.

You know that word?

Of course, you do.

I learned that word in the pen.

We had this priest who used to come by

on Sunday nights, you know.

Have a little Bible study.

So I signed right up. For giggles.

And he used to say that

Jesus was undiscriminating.

He loved all of us.

Each and everyone of us, just the same.

You believe that?

- Hm.

- So?

- How's the arm?

- It's fine.

- It's fine?

- Yeah.

- All right.

- What are you doing here?

What do you mean

what am I doing here? Come on.

I came to say hi.

Well, I'm not pitching today, so...

I know, I know. I'm relieved.

You wanna go get some peanuts?

Come on, let's get some peanuts.

What are you doing in California?

I got a job, buddy of mine...

Okeechobee, hooked me up with a...

a little deal in Mexico, at the border.

Job, good one.

What kind of job is that?

The best kind.

The kind that might be my last.

You know, set me up

for early retirement, like your mom.

I saw the house you bought her.

Lot of carpenters there.

Hittin' it.

Well, I guess the priest

didn't reform you, did he?

No, sir.

They don't make 'em like me anymore.

They try to bring me down.

Well, see with me,

it's a matter of self respect.

- Yeah, I got to go do some running.

- No, you don't.

No, you don't. Come on, now.

I hear you got knocked around

a little bit the other night.

- Yeah.

- You know why?

- Yeah, I know why.

- Why?

- My footing's off.

- Yeah.

I've got professional coaches

to help me with that now.

- Oh, you do?

- Yeah, I do.

Okay. Okay.

They helping you with your face?

- My face?

- Hm-mm.

Your intimidation stare.

Do you remember

anything that I taught you?

Huh? Bob Gibson?

Dave Stewart.

"The Rocket" Clemens.

Ferocious?

Bitchin' motherfuckers would have you out

before you stepped in the batter's box

with their f***ing eyes.

Okay? And look at you,

you're not even a paper tiger.

You wander over to the mound with your

tail between your legs like a little puppy.

I was worried you were

gonna piss yourself.

I'll work on my Rocket.

Get some HGH and some steroids

while I'm at it.

Hey, look, are you joking?

Right? But...

Five, ten years from now,

all that sh*t's gonna be legal.

You know that, right?

The government can't stop evolution.

All drugs should be legal.

- Then you'd be out of a job.

- Hm-mm.

I'd still have you as my

full time f***ing employment, hm?

When I delivered you,

you were a perfectly sound pitcher.

Two years with these so called experts,

and what? You are all banged up.

You are all... You are all tangled up.

It's not their fault, Dad.

So you say.

They got a weight room here

in the Minors Leagues, Skinny?

- All right. I got to go.

- No, no, listen.

- I'm serious about the anabolics.

- Yeah. I will.

- I can get you the undetectable stuff.

- All right.

Get in.

You got to get wet all at once,

then it's awfully pleasant.

If it's so pleasant,

why aren't you getting in?

Chocolate.

I was on my feet all day

waiting on suckers.

That makes me a sucker, too, huh?

I work at Millie's a mile away.

Do you see bunions on my feet?

No, I don't see any bunions.

Not from this distance, anyway.

You with the ball club, Hopper?

That's right.

- What position?

- Pitcher.

- Throw fast?

- Very.

Oh, regular Bob Feller.

That might be.

My name's Candace, by the way.

I'm a regular Candace.

What's that mean?

Get it? Regular Bob Feller,

regular Candace.

Oh, I got you.

So you're a waitress around here?

And you live in the motel?

For the night, at any rate.

My old man's a f***ing child.

He ran out of generosity,

even for himself.

Hm.

He tells me he lifted me out of the gutter,

but I'm pretty sure I'm still there.

Maybe you know how it can be with drunks.

Do I have something

on my mouth or something?

You keep staring at my mouth.

Okay, it's okay.

Here. Watch it blow you a kiss.

You seem ill at ease, homeboy.

Yeah... If I... get caught

by the coaches I'm dead.

You'll die satisfied.

Hey, come here.

You're a stud.

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