The New York (37 page)

“Mr. Baxter will warn you again,” he said.

“He can go fuck himself.”

“You see, Señor. The government … I know this thing … is not just one thing. This is complicated. Part of the government wants this thing with Cuba to blossom into other things. Others do not. The government is cautious. And you are not cautious. Didn't he tell you that it was good to find good ball players in Cuba but it was not good to … to rub the nose of Washington into it?”

“No, not exactly in those words.”

“And Señor Castro? If he wins the pennant, this is a bad thing, no?”

“He don't win.
We
win. Us. The Yankees.”

“But the men are Cubanos.”

“So are you.”

“I am an American now.”

“And you are Cubano.”

“Yes.”

“Aren't you proud of the boys?”

“Muy."

“Well? Why do tricks for the government?”

“I don't care much, but last night, I saw much courage from you. I saw you stand up and do right, even if it would bring bad to you.”

Principles again. I hate principles.

“Is something wrong, Señor?”

“Just figure I threw that no-hitter by accident, that I wasn't really thinking about it. I was thinking about other things.”

“About your men. Who look up to you “

“No, not about them.”

“Then what?”

That was a good question. One that I never would have asked myself.

“I dunno. I don't like to be pushed around. I don't mind a little nudging once in a while, but I don't like George pushing me around and i don't like what he did to Señora Guevara or tried to do.”

“You think that, too? That it was Señor Bremenhaven?”

“Yeah. Why?”

“Because I think that other people think that, too.”

“In the government?”

He shrugged.

“You getting this on tape, Jose?”

He looked at me then with infinite sadness. “I apologize again for all that I have done.”

“Hell, that's all right, You ain't done nothing by me, Jose. I didn't say nothing I didn't mean.”

“But what will you say when Mr. Baxter comes again? To … threaten you.”

“I dunno.“

“You see, that is courage.”

“No, just stupidity. I don't think that far ahead.”

“Señor, perhaps I can make an amend to you.”

And thee he opened his bag and took it out. I saw what he was thinking before he even said it.

Baxter and Sills met me at the park at five. I was late because I had to do an interview with WFAN and about half the TV stations in New York and because I treated myself to a rack of ribs at Wollensky's that was this side of sinful. Charlene was going to have to forgive me for that one.

Did I say I sent her a dozen roses by wire? I never did that before. What the hell, I never threw a no-hitter before.

I was wearing my blue blazer and a black knit polo shirt and gray slacks. A guy from the
Daily News
was stalking me and I exchanged pleasant remarks with him for a few minutes before I went into the sanctum of my inner.

The reporter did ask me one thing: “How would you feel leading a team of Cubans to the pennant?”

“I'd feel fine.”

“Some people are upset about the idea.”

“Bigots. This is the same crowd that didn't want Jackie Robinson to play. I think it's a sin that Toronto whupped us in the World Series. I thought this game was about exporting American ideas. If we export ideas we can't go back on them when they do us one better, can we?”

“You want to explain that?” He held the tape recorder right under my nose.

“America is doing our best and showing others how to do our best. I don't recall that Castro said he invented the game, like the Russians used to do. Now we kiss Russian ass bigtime and we forget all that cold war stuff, which is okay by me, but I think we give credit where credit is due. Take George. I've had my differences with George, but he said to me just this morning that he hoped more American ball players would learn the Cuban work ethic when it comes to knuckling down to the grindstone and doing what they had to do.”

“You agree with that?”

“Hell, no. I'm an American ball player, ain't I? And I just threw a no-hitter, which isn't bad for an old relief pitcher, is it?”

The
Daily News
guy laughed and said he would quote me accurately and I said it was more important that he quote George accurately because he knew how George was, always trying to slip out of something. He said he knew. ‘Deed, he did.

I went into my cubbyhole and there was the entire U.S. Government waiting for me. I didn't take off my coat or say anything.

“You're trying, aren't you?” Baxter said first.

“Trying what?”

“Close the door” he said to Sills. No Neck did.

“You're fucking with Uncle,” Baxter said.

“I'm trying to win the pennant,” I said.

“Exactly.”

“Exactly what?”

“You forget the conversations we've had?”

“Apparently so.”

“I can hang an indictment on your ass tomorrow,” Baxter said.

“For what?”

“For what we were talking about.”

“Oh, that was just talk.”

“It was fucking serious talk, Shawn. Don't shrug that kickshitter attitude at me. You're in deep doo-doo.”

“Doo-doo? Kickshitter? Do people in Washington really talk baby talk like that? I thought it was only that president we had once.”

“Funny guy,” said Sills.

“I don't talk to people like you. Kickshitter. What a laugh,” I told him.

“These Cubans are not going to win the fucking American League pennant”

“All right, you tell me why not.”

“Because they can't.”

“Why can't they?”

“Because.”

“Because why?”

“Because of the game. It's an American game.”

“So what?”

“Because.”

“Oh, why don't you just blow it out your ass, Baxter, I got to get dressed for the game.”

“I want you to understand something, cowboy. Fidel Castro let us use his ball players for a considerable amount of consideration.”

“Like what?”

“Like oil, for one thing.”

“All right, you made your deal, I don't need to know about it.”

“But we didn't intend for him to take over major league baseball. George Bremenhaven is a fool. It was his idea to carry the water on this, take in the Cubans in the most liberal city in the country. Well, it worked out fairly well. But they weren't supposed to win this thing.''

“You want me to fix it?”

“We want you to look out for your best interests.”

“Like what?”

“Stop the fucking winning,” No Neck said.

“Is that right, Mr. Baxter?”

He stared right through me. “You're thick, you know that? You could end up testifying to grand juries for years for fucking this up.”

“So you want me to fix the game.”

“Not fix, not fix. You're encouraging this … rabble team. What was the point of that guy's speech last night? Raul?”

“You bugging the locker room, too?”

“We do what we have to do “

I put my hand to my mouth. “Is nothing sacred? You'll be wiring jock straps next.”

“Why can't you leave well enough alone? Castro's got recognition for baseball and that makes everyone feel warm and friendly in Havana, that's all we wanted. Not give the fucking pennant away.”

“Nobody gives anything away in the Bigs. You take it, is all.”

“You take it and you're in trouble the rest of your life.”

“Well, that's as may be. But I'll have my moment of glory.” I thought of something then. “Last little bit of sun on my parade before we wind it down.”

“You don't want to win that bad,” Baxter said.

I just smiled. “Pardner, you don't know what I want that bad. Maybe I didn't even know until the last few days. Maybe I still don't know. But I can feel it, Bax. Can't you feel it?”

We ended the conversation then. They left very sullen.

One other thing.

Raul, Tío, and I went over the locker room and found two bugs, both hidden in boxes. One was in the electrical box and one was in a hot water transfer box on the wall. We drowned the bugs in the shower.

Then the boys gathered around me and I gave them my last speech of the regular season. Riccardo was there, too, as our honored guest, and he got a Yankees cap out of it as well as good box-seat tickets. He also did the interpreting for me because I wanted the Spanish part to come out just right.

Especially when I played the tape.

The tape was real tiny in a real tiny machine. It had been strapped inside my waistband. They make those things real small, you know? Not the kind you can buy at Radio Shack.

First Baxter would talk and then Riccardo would translate and then I would talk and Riccardo would translate and then Baxter would talk and Riccardo would translate and it was quite a conversation. There were parts in it I hadn't picked up on at the time.

When it was over, I thanked Señor Riccardo and he went out of the room and down the tunnel to the stands.

Then I stood up and said, “Friends, the only thing we have to fear is fear itself.”

“And those government men,” Raul said.

“I spit on them,” I said. And then I spit on the floor. “I'm proud of you boys and I don't give a shit what happens out there from now on. We are the team of destiny and you all know it. Even Tomas Butterfingers knows it.”

Tomas grinned at me and shook his head.

“The world is going to know it. Everyone stands against us, but we aren't going to lose. Not tonight and not forever. We are destiny,
compadres
. We are the New York Yankees. Forget Cuba and the men from Washington and forget Castro and forget your wives and sweethearts and all the rest of it. That's for tomorrow. Tonight and in all the tonights into October, we are destiny. We are going to win the fucking American League pennant.”

They held their collective breaths because they saw I wasn't finished.

“And then,
muchachos
, you know what we're going to do with the pennant?”

Raul smiled. His English was better than most.

“Shove it up their ass,” he finished.

“In Spanish, please,” I said.

And he complied.

It took until the end of September, but the New York Yanquis won the American League East.

Now that baseball is divided up into six divisions, with three in the American League and three in the National, winning the American League East is not the big deal that it used to be. We were tired at the end of the season, but as far as the owners were concerned the season was just beginning. There is no reason to have playoff games except for owners' greed. And the owners would say it all started with the players' greed, so you have to concede a point or two to both sides.

Winning the East was the story of the world for a couple of days. What no one noticed was that I went down to the U.S. courthouse on my day off and had a chat with the U.S. attorney.

He started in about Jack Wade and all that Mickey Mouse stuff and I stopped him.

I had copied the tape, of course. I gave him the copy and he played it.

I just sat there with a can of Sprite staining the rosewood table we were sitting at. When the tape was finished, he played it again. Then he said he thought it was illegal to secretly tape the conversation of two agents of the State Department and I said there was illegal and then there was illegal and fixing baseball was more illegal than making a tape.

He said he would think it over.

(As far as I know, he is still thinking it over.)

George Bremenhaven came down to the clubhouse before our first playoff game to try to put a good face on it. He asked me to translate for him and I was glad to do it.

“Men, I never thought you could do it. No, no, strike that, Ryan. Men, I always knew you could do it.”

— Men, he thinks he was fucking you before but now he has ended up fucking himself.

Many smiles all around.

“Men, I know that some of you do not want to return to your unhappy homeland and I can't blame you. I want you to know, I have extensive contacts in our government and you are all welcome here, in America, welcome here even in New York, the greatest city on Earth.”

— He wants you to defect. It's the only way he can show face with the other owners.

— Tell him to go fuck his fat Yanqui ass (Tío said). “Tío said to go fuck your fat Yankee ass,” I translated.

George went red all over and shouted, “Tell him he's fired, the cock-sucking Commie prick.”

— He says you're fired, you cocksucker of a Communist prick.

— Tell him we could not have won without hating him for kidnapping Raul's wife (Suarez said).

“George, Suarez said they could not have won without hating you for kidnapping Raul's wife,” I said.

“What the fuck are they talking about? I didn't have anything to do with that.”

“Oh, come on, George. Take a bow. It was great motivation. You should get a TV infomercial on motivating ball players.”

“I never kidnapped her, the dumb bastards kidnapped the fucking maid,” he shouted again.

— He says his goons got the wrong woman.

— He admits it? (Raul said, picking up a bat).

I stood up and stood between them. I said to George, “George, Raul wants to turn your head into a squashed watermelon, I think you motivated enough for tonight.”

“Jesus Christ,” George said.

“Yeah. Say good night, George.” I'd always wanted to say that.

That was just frosting. We kicked serious ass that night and I did three innings of relief as a star turn. Gave up no runs on two hits and two walks, which was my usual speed. What the hell, we won.