A Meeting at the Mound

Scene:
A late July afternoon in Yankees Stadium and the Bronx Bombers comfortably leading the Oakland Athletics 5-0. Shade has started to engulf the stadium, bringing the temperature down to a more palpable 84 degrees. It's the top of the ninth inning, with two outs and no runners on base. The following will unfold on baseball's center stage, the pitching mound.

Characters:
Joe - Manager of the Yankees. Wears number 27 as a reminder of the team's ultimate goal: a 27th World Series championship. A strict disciplinarian slightly over his head managing baseball's most famed club.
DJ - Shortstop and captain of the Yankees. Notorious womanizer and slayer of women's hearts. Highest paid shortstop in history.
Arod - Arguably the best player in the game, yet almost universally reviled among fans of America's pastime. Although their starting third baseman for half a decade, still not considered "a true Yankee." Highest paid player in the game's history.
Tex - First baseman and new guy on the scene, Tex has struggled to adapt to his new surroundings. Highest paid first baseman ever.
Cano - Young second baseman accused of laziness and a general indifference to improving his skills after scoring the second highest annual salary for his position.
Jorge - Crusty veteran catcher, trying one last time to prove he can still make it at the game's highest level. Highest paid catcher in the game.
CC - Plump starting pitcher. Highest paided hurler in the game. Generally of a jolly disposition.

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[Following the second out of the ninth inning, CC's 11th strikeout of the game, Joe calls timeout, emerges from the dugout and slowly saunters to the pitching mound. The other members of the infield, including the catcher, converge at this central location]

Joe: Hell of an effort, CC. Great job today. Way to put the team on your back. Err...(pulls out a book entitled "World's Greatest Sports Cliches from his back pocket, opens to a random page) When we needed you most, you stepped up big time. (quickly tucks book away)

CC: Thanks, Skip. But, I really think I've got this last guy. I mean, I've only given up three hits all game and I've thrown, what, around 120 pitches? That's at least 40 fewer than my season average. And remember what I did for the Brewers last year? I was on the slab all day, every day.

Joe: CC, come on now. There's a big tub of rocky road ice cream waiting in the clubhouse for you if you hand me the ball.

CC: Fuck that, now you're just lying. We all know there's no snacks in down there. I've been sneaking in bacon wrapped Klondike bars all season. Those tasty bitches are cold. Hey, Jorge, how's my stuff?

Jorge: First, I just want to apologize for having to roll the ball back to the mound today. One of these days, this shoulder is going to get healthy. And then, just watch. I'll be throwing parabolic arcs back to the pitchers just like old days.

Joe: Great, can't wait for that to happen, but this isn't about you, Jorgie. How's CC look?

DJ: Sorry to interrupt here, but you mind if I step out for a sec? I really need to take this. (DJ suddenly presses a button in his glove and holds it up to his face. His glove houses a cell phone in the heel, allowing for inconspicuous conversing with various models and actresses throughout the game) Hey, Doc, thanks for getting back to me so quickly. Yeah, they're back. I'm going to need you to refill that subscription for me, stat. Minka's folks are coming into town and the tingling has started again. Cool, so you can drop that off before 6? Awesome. Thanks, bro. (Hangs up glove-phone) What did I miss?

Tex: What the hell was that? Is there a phone in your glove?

DJ: Yeah, I called in a couple of favors from this cougar I tagged a while back who knew someone high up at Verizon and they hooked me up big time. Best four grand I ever spent. Not counting the time I took Jessica Biel out in Vegas then...

Arod: Did someone mention a cougar? Where? I've been scouting the stands for the most muscular looking 5o year old chick I could find, but no luck so far. If I can't find anyone before this last out, I might have to take home another stripper tonight. Paying for that is becoming such a bitch.

Cano: Hey, can I just...

Arod: Shut the fuck up, Cano. Seriously, learn English, amigo, then get the biggest contract at your fucking position, then you can talk. When we get in the locker room, so help me God, I'm going to piss on all your fucking Dominican shit.

Tex: Didn't you just play for the Dominican team in the World Baseball Classic?

Arod: I know, but I just wanted to win, something, anything, once in my life. Look how that ended up. Goddamn Cubans took us down. Cubans!?! That's worst than losing every year to the Angels.

Joe: Can we get back on track here, I'm pretty sure Tim McClelland just gave us a dirty look. That is one scary dude. Jorge, how is CC tossing?

Jorge: He's good man. Throwing peas out there. Hey, anyone want to massage my shoulder?

CC: See, skip, I'm all good. Let me get this last guy. The bucket of KFC I ordered in the fifth is probably really soggy right now. There ain't nothing worse than soggy fried chicken.

Cano: Yo, can I get...

Arod: SHUT THE FUCK UP!

DJ: (answers glove-phone) Scarlett, you're married now. Stop calling me. During games at least. Hit me up later.

Tex: What did I get myself into? If we don't win the series this year...

Joe: Shit, here comes McClellan. Okay, okay, calm down Joe. Time to make a decision. CC, you got your wish, finish this game off.

CC: Sweet, KFC always tastes better after a shutout.

Arod: Is that a retired female body builder over there? I think it is. Shut the fuck up Cano.

Jorge: One last thing, CC. If you possibly get this last guy on one pitch, I'd really appreciate it. It's starting to get embarrassing, you know, with me rolling the ball back to the mound every pitch. Thanks.

[The group disbands off the mound and returns to their respective positions. CC retires the next batter on one pitch much to the delight of his catcher. It is his fourth consecutive shutout]