Free Player Season: The Pickup Artist Who Hacked Nike by Brad Stephenson Page A

good, I'm gonna go eat my food," said Chris, before exiting.
    "Screw it! I'll go! Let me put on my monkey suit," Justin enthusiastically declared.
    A monkey suit is an outfit you put on before you go out and act wild like a monkey. Justin's monkey suit was dark blue jeans, white Chuck Taylor's and a drab yellow shirt with the word 'Hooker' written in orange across the chest with a small picture of Jazz legend John Lee Hooker underneath.
    The two of us exited the front lobby and Justin politely stopped to sign an autograph or two. I could see my teammates faces as we approached; they weren't even expecting to meet him, let alone have him join us back to Cape Cod.
    "Get in the backseat!" Justin said to my teammate who was sitting shotgun, without an introduction.
    He wasn't being an asshole; he was simply adhering to a hierarchy based code known as 'big leaguing'. When someone is below you in the baseball food chain, it's ok to treat him like shit because it's motivational. Not to mention Justin spent his entire rookie season being big leagued everyday. He was ready to take it out on others, even if they were lowly college players.
    We spent the next hour driving south, listening to rap music while my teammates stayed busy texting everyone to find out where the party was.
    My car eventually came to a stop in a graveled driveway outside of a one-story cottage, just steps from the beach.
    As soon as we walked in, it was like a scene from the movie Almost Famous. Justin wasn't a global icon by any means, but in the baseball world, being the #1 draft pick made him a god. I quickly scanned the room and every single person had their eyes focused on him; they were genuinely star-struck. Another future big leaguer, Josh Rutteledge, was also in attendance.
    We went straight to the table in the center of the room, sat down and began playing a drinking game with 3 girls. Like a swarm of bees, everyone there rapidly huddled around Justin. As a student of human nature, I found it quite interesting. As his friend, I wondered how it affected him mentally. Most would view it as a positive, but what if it happened everywhere you went...everyday?
    Nonetheless, I could tell he was used to this type of treatment. He spoke diplomatically to everyone who introduced themselves and actively paid attention to what they were saying – more so the girls than the guys.
    The female attention – now that's an undeniable positive.
    They liked him. In fact, so much that they asked us to escort them to the beach and of course we obliged.
    We all settled on a spot in the sand and looked out into the ocean. This kept us busy for a minute or two, then Justin looked at me and we inherently knew each other's thoughts the mood wasn't right. Someone needed to set the tone.
    "I'm gonna get this party started!" Justin said aloud.
    He violently jumped to his feet, unfastened his belt and took his pants off exposing his bright blue boxer briefs. I was shocked and horrified but the girls...they loved it! Here's proof.

    We were in one-on-one with our girls' just minutes later. I was sequestering a blonde and Justin engaged a tan brunette on the lifeguard tower.
    "I'm gonna fly you out to Arizona!" said Justin, from a distance.
    Twenty minutes went by and we decided to head back in. I was carrying a 12-pack of beer and Justin's arm was around the brunette as we reached the main road, our clothes completely covered in sand.
    Suddenly, headlights appeared behind us.
    "Is that a cop?" I blurted out.
    Without a moments delay, Justin sprinted and dove head first into a row of bushes in someone's front yard. His actions didn't surprise me.
    I was right too, it was a cop, and he stopped to ask what we were doing. I approached himwith 12-pack in handand quickly defused his investigation.
    Justin reappeared once the coast was clear, wiping leaves from his monkey suit. I didn't blame him, the headline 'Diamondbacks Player Arrested in Cape Cod' probably flashed in front of his eyes