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Season of Suck
It was just before 9am when I got to Chief's. Miss Gail seemed surprised to see me.
"Jake? Thank God you're here." I love it when a woman says that to me. "He's been in there for hours watching that thing. Go in and snap him out of it, I'll get the coffee." It was the season of suck. After the wicked high of '99, this season was the summer where very little went right; and when it did it was never enough. The Yankees should have been put away early. We just couldn't pull the trigger. The Bottle will chill another year. Chief was sitting at his desk, on the far wall was one of those flat screen TVs. Without looking at me he snapped something on his computer and the Sox popped on the screen. I sat down, snagged the half joint that was in the ashtray and lit it up. Miss Gail came in with two blacks. "You guys enjoy the pain don't you? Jake I've been going over your expenses from the Tampa run. You really should take in some solid food when you're on the road." I offered her the jay, she just rolled her eyes, shook her head. She turned and left us alone. 
Enjoy the pain? What did that mean? "Check it out Jake", was all he said, his eyes still on the screen. It was 1975, Bill Lee pitching. A perfect double play ball to Burleson, Rose sliding into second, Doyle throwing the ball away. Then it's that pitch. The screen fades as Perez loads. Now it's 1978, Mike Torrez grooves it; Yaz bounces back to the Wall, screen fades... Bob Stanley appears next. I groan as the ball bounces past Gedman. "Chief", I start but he waves me silent. It's 1999 now, Brosius rounding third, he's dead at the plate, Varitek bobbles... Now it's that awful afternoon in July. Carl Everett going bug fuck, the screen goes blank as the angry black man heads to the dugout... 
I drop the roach in the ashtray and he finally speaks. "You think it's true Jake? The curse I mean."
I'm stunned at what I think I just heard. "You asshole. You of all people. You know as well as I do that history means shit. We gave it away this year because we sucked just a little more than New York. The curse is a crock!" I head for the door bummed out and confused. I can't remember ever being pissed at Chief. He calls me back before I can exit. "Hey Jake. I hear Fort Meyers is pretty wild in March." I spin around and he's got that wide grin going. All I can do is laugh. We spend the rest of the morning drinking coffee, getting stoned and talking baseball. I love this shit. What do I know? 
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