Free Rivals (2010) by Tim - Baseball 02 Green

trophies and pointing to the slightly smaller one. “And I wish you all the best on the runner-up’s trophy here. That’s what this is, right?”
    Mickey stepped to the table by the books and pointed to the smaller of the two trophies.
    “Yes it is,” the director said.
    Josh knit his eyebrows. He couldn’t keep from saying, “I play for the Titans, and we’re planning to win the big one.”
    Mickey Mullen smiled at Josh with twinkling eyes and shook his head ever so slightly, as if that just wasn’t going to happen. “Talk is cheap, and champions are likeblue moons. They don’t come around much.”
    “Mr. Mullen,” Felicity said, “the director was just about to call these boys’ parents.”
    “I’ve got a better idea,” Mickey said. “I know just what these kids need.”

CHAPTER TWENTY
    JOSH AND BENJI LEANED back, afraid of what Mickey Mullen would say.
    “An ice cream,” Mickey Mullen said, breaking out into his big grin again. “That’s what they need. These are good kids.”
    “Thank you, Mr. Mullen,” Josh said, hearing the words leave his mouth like he was playing a role in a Mickey Mullen movie.
    “Call me the Mick,” the great man said with his smile burning bright. “That’s what my friends call me. And watch out for those beanballs, will you?”
    Before anyone could say another word, Benji jumped out of his seat, snatched a Sharpie marker from the director’s desk, and handed it to Mickey Mullen along with his Red Sox cap. The star player signed it withoutlooking, bumped fists with Benji and Josh, then blew a little kiss to the event planner before turning and leaving the room without another word.
    “How cool was that?” Benji asked, examining the cap.
    “You said toilet paper,” Josh said. “I didn’t think you liked Mickey Mullen.”
    “I’m not crazy about the guy,” Benji said, “but he did play for the Red Sox, and this thing will be worth money.”
    “Boys,” the director said, reaching into his desk, “here. Take these. Some extra passes. Come back as much as you like. I’m a Hank Aaron fan too.”
    “Thanks, mister,” Josh said, accepting the passes and splitting them with Benji.
    “Yeah, cool,” Benji said. “Thanks.”
    “Come on,” Josh said, tugging Benji toward the entrance. “They’re all leaving.”
    Mickey Jr. and Jaden made up only the tail end of an entourage of people buzzing around Mickey Mullen, talking on cell phones, taking orders from him, or clearing the way. Cameras flashed when he emerged into the gray, wet day, ducked beneath an umbrella, and scooted inside a waiting limo.
    An olive-skinned man with curly black hair, thick eyebrows, long sideburns, and a scowl emerged from the crowd and put his hand on Mickey Jr.’s shoulder. The man reminded Josh of an ape, despite his black suitand tie. His hunched-over frame rested on bow legs, and dark hair covered the backs of hands that hung like meat hooks.
    While the man bent his mouth to Mickey Jr.’s ear, his black eyes scanned Josh and his friends.
    “Your father is heading down to New York for dinner with Robert De Niro to talk about a new film,” the man said, loud enough for them all to hear. “Did you decide if you’re joining or going back to the hotel with the team? It’s up to you.”
    “Well,” Mickey Jr. said, looking sadly at his father’s car as it pulled away from the curb without him. “I guess I’ll go to the hotel. Hey, Myron? Can I give my friends a ride back to where they’re staying first?”
    The man called Myron looked them over and even cocked his head like a monkey before he said, “Well, we’ve got cars for the press. I’m sure we can squeeze them in somewhere and drop them.”
    “No,” Mickey Jr. said, “I mean my car.”
    “Well, I’ve already got the coaches going in your car if you’re headed back to the hotel,” the man said, obviously put out.
    Mickey Jr. shrugged and took a cell phone out of his jeans pocket.
    “What are you doing?”