“I guess if that guy never ran into that fence we wouldn’t have installed that padding on it….” ¬†Just then his blackberry rang, he caught it as it vibrated and almost fell off the table.
“Hello. ¬†Yeah I got the tape…..no….yeah I remem….okay…..Aarron….AARRON!” ¬†Amaro ponders throwing the blackberry away as Rowand yammers on about playing in Philadelphia. ¬†The general manager hangs up on him…..again. ¬†”You call one former closer and sign Jim Thome…” ¬†The trash can starts vibrating.
In a Las Vegas living room, a dream is coming to its end. ¬†After a lifetime of ¬†being better at baseball than a lot of other people, Aaron Rowand can’t get a team for which he achieved cult status to take his calls. ¬†”I ran into that fence to save a shutout for Gavin Floyd. ¬†Gavin Floyd…” ¬† A former all star, gold glove award winner and a two time world series champion. ¬†The problem with accolades is when they occur in the past. ¬†Aaron Rowand has come to the haunting realization that for the first time in ten years, he will not be offered a major league contract.
Amaro fumbles around in the trashcan, searching for an end to the calls. ¬†”The last thing I want is fucking Adam Eaton or Bobby Abreu calling.” ¬†Amaro mumbled as he foraged through the garbage like a hobo. ¬†”Aaron, if you want you can play for the Iron Pigs….I hear that Bethlehem is making a recovery.”