~ Chapter Fifty Eight ~

"Hey, Howie.  Thanks for doing this."  Bob Carter shrugged into his suit jacket and sat down on the canvas chair across from Howie, talking around the crew member that was clipping his microphone in place.

"No problem, Bob."  Howie carefully smoothed his hair one last time, just to make sure.  He had a lot of girls watching this game tonight, and being on the preshow with his hair sticking out just wasn't a good idea.

"Nick was supposed to do this, but he was being an a-- again."  Bob explained, glaring at the crew member in annoyance.  "It's fine - just leave it alone!"  He turned back to Howie, his weathered but still handsome face smiling again.  "Now, are you ready?"

That figured.  Howie was Nick's replacement.  Somehow it didn't really surprise him.  It was one of the defining trends of his life - Howie was always second to someone. 

"First off, congratulations on your batting title this year."  Bob started, as the lights flashed on and the camera started recording.

"Thank you."  Howie smiled politely.  Fine, that had been one thing he had been first at, but it was the only thing. 

"Now, let's talk about the team for a minute.  This has been a pretty wild ride, hasn't it?"

"Yeah, it has."  Howie agreed.  "To go from last season, when we finished in third place, to where we are right now, it's been a lot of fun." 

"Why do you think this year's Mariners have played the way they have, when compared to last year's team?"

Howie thought about it for a moment, trying to think of something that wouldn't make him look moronic on national TV.  It wasn't easy to explain, in fact, Howie wasn't sure if he could even pinpoint a definite reason. 

"I can't really think of a reason that we've done what we have this year.

 Obviously, getting Nick and AJ in the offseason helped a lot, but that's just two guys.  I mean, everyone on this team has done their job and then some.

"Even so, it wasn't really until the last month of the season, when we found out Brian was sick, that we all started to realize that this team had something pretty special.  I mean, that could have easily been the moment that the team kind of fell apart at the seams and stuff like that, but we didn't do that.  Brian didn't really let us.  He just kept charging right on ahead, and we just followed along."

Bob was nodding in agreement, although Howie could see the skepticism in his eyes.  "Brian Littrell has really done a lot for the team this year, and not just with his play at second, hasn't he?"

"Yeah, he has."  Howie agreed completely.  "It's really terrible that something like this had to happen to him, because he doesn't deserve it at all."

"How is Brian doing?"  This was the question Bob had been waiting the entire interview for, Howie knew it. 

"Brian's doing fine."  Howie actually had no real idea of how Brian was doing, but he was smart enough not to start something with the media.  As far as the reporters and fans were concerned, Brian was fine, no matter how he really was.  "Some of the guys have stopped by to see him, and he's doing good, and he'll be watching the game tonight on TV." 

"Thanks for stopping by, Howie, and good luck in tonight's game."  Bob turned towards the camera.  "We'll be right back with game seven of the World Series, the Seattle Mariners at the Los Angeles Dodgers."

~*~

Buddy Williams slowly surveyed his team as they prepared for the game. Everyone was telling him this was a team he should be proud of, but Buddy wasn't too sure.  Apparently those people had never seen his clubhouse.  Most of the team was okay, Buddy could be proud of them.  However, there exceptions, the most notable being AJ McLean. 

The said exception was hanging on Buddy, his skinny, tattooed arm draped around Buddy's neck.  "Any words of advice for us before the big game, coach?"  AJ said with a crazed smile. 

Buddy stared at the pitcher for a moment, before smirking slightly.  "I bet you could say it better than me, McLean."

"Damn straight I can."  AJ agreed happily, climbing up onto a chair. "Okay, guys!  Buddy is going to give us a little speech now!"

The rest of the clubhouse turned to look.  AJ wasn't in his game uniform yet, just wearing the gray pants and socks on his feet.  For those uninitiated to AJ's pregame appearance, it would have been frightening. To the other 39 guys on the team, they weren't surprised in the slightest.

"However, my friend Buddy here has realized what a great orator the Cool Guru really is, and therefore, I'll be giving the speech instead."  AJ hopped back down off the chair and began slowly pacing the length of the clubhouse, his chest shoved out as far as possible and his hands shoved in the back pockets of his pants.

Buddy almost laughed, except he wasn't quite ready to give AJ the victory.  Fine, he was proud of AJ too, he just wasn't about to admit it to anyone. AJ had put together an incredible year, he had pretty much pulled the bullpen together, and Buddy might as well face it - AJ was doing an uncanny impersonation of any clubhouse pep talk Buddy had ever made.  Right now, the team could probably use his antics more than they could use the motivation. 

"Back when I played the game..."  AJ continued.  "Back when baseball was played the way it was meant to be played... back in the days when pitchers didn't have tattoos, back in the days when we played with clubs and rocks and drove around in cars like Fred Flintstone..."

"We get the point!"  Kevin hollered in annoyance. 

AJ gave Kevin a vicious glower.  "Did you have something you wanted to add, Richardson?"  He captured the intonation of Buddy so perfectly that the rest of the clubhouse cracked up. 

"Seriously, guys."  AJ straightened up, all imitation of Buddy gone. "We've all been saying the same thing for the last two days, we've been hearing the same thing - you can't dwell on the last game, the Series isn't over yet, all that matters is this game tonight... it's one thing to say and hear it, and it's entirely another  to actually do it."

AJ glanced over at Kevin again.  "I know there's some of you on this team that you don't like the attitude I have about the game.  I f----- up the game last night, but it wasn't because I didn't want to win.  Maybe I'm the only one here with enough nerve to say this, but even if this is game seven of the World Series, it's still just a game. Real life is a hell of a lot more important than a game and right now we're all convinced that we can't win without Brian.  And tonight, I think we need to prove that we can win without Brian, not just for ourselves, but for Brian too."

His speech finished, AJ crossed back over to his locker and started pulling on his shirt.

Buddy shook his head.  Both antics and motivation in the same speech.  On second thought, he might be more proud of AJ than he was of anyone else on the team, with the exception of Brian.  If someone asked him right this very moment, he would even admit it.

~*~

"And Kinomoto slaps a little looper into left field for the first base hit of the ballgame."  Stan Morgan narrated the action on the TV screen in Stacy's hotel room.  "You can sense the tension from the Mariners, even here in the first inning.  This game means a lot to all of them - third baseman Howie Dorough saying earlier that they were dedicating this game to second baseman Brian Littrell."

Stacy rolled her eyes.  "And that's what?  The fifth time one of you has mentioned that?" 

"Dorough's up at the plate now... here's the pitch, and he sends a fly ball towards center field, Harrison puts it away easily, and Mariners right fielder Nick Carter comes up with two outs and a runner on first."

"He's a tough kid."  Bob Carter joined in.  "He's got the flu that's been going around the clubhouse for most of the Series and I really didn't think he'd be playing tonight."

Stacy sighed.  Even though she knew she was right about choosing not to go to LA with Nick, deep down, she felt just the tiniest little bit guilty.  Hearing that he was sick, and watching as he came up to the plate didn't do anything to help ease that feeling. 

Bob really didn't have to say anything about Nick being sick, it was obvious just looking at him.  His coloring was a little off, he was moving a little more gingerly than usual and he had a slightly fuzzy air of disorientation about him.

She had tried calling him yesterday, to see how he was holding up and to give him details about how her presentation had gone, but she hadn't been able to reach him.  She had thought about calling before she had left that morning, but it was two hours earlier on the West Coast and chances were Nick would have slept right through the phone.  She'd call him tonight after the game. 

"Carter swings at the first pitch and sends it towards the shortstop... he throws him out easily and we go to the bottom of the first.  Lineups for the Dodgers right after this. After half an inning, no score."

~*~

Karen studied the figures moving soundlessly across the TV attached to the top of the wall in the hospital room.  "And why did you make me turn the sound off again?"  She wondered, glancing over at Brian.  He was curled up on his side, eyes closed, the clear oxygen tube running from his nose up the side of his face.  His right hand, the one with the IV, was still wrapped around Karen's. 

He had fallen asleep shortly after Kevin and Becky left for the ballpark.  Kevin had given Karen strict instructions that she was to call him if anything happened.  So far, nothing had, even Kevin would be forced to agree with her.  Brian had been awake for the first couple innings, watched the Mariners fall behind 4-1, and then he had drifted off again.

"I made you turn it off because if I heard Bob Carter say that this game was dedicated to me one more time, I was going to scream."  Brian said quietly.

"They did kind of mention that one little thing twenty or thirty times." Karen agreed.  This entire situation felt eerily weird to her.  Never in a million years, would she except to find herself in a situation like this, and react the way she was.  Right now, Karen should be in hysterics over the possibility of anything even happening to Brian, and she wasn't.  In fact, she was remarkably calm. 

"I hate being a human interest story."  Brian mumbled, opening his eyes to stare up at the TV for a moment.  "They still losing?"

"Yeah, 4-1."  Karen squeezed his hand lightly.  She had a strong feeling that Brian was the only reason she was as calm as she was right now.  He had that effect on people, for some strange reason.  "And you're not a human interest story, Brian, okay?  To all the guys on the team you're a lot more than that."  Now she was getting a little emotional. 

"I know that..."  Brian sighed, closing his eyes again.

"How're you feeling?"  Karen bent over the half railing on the bed so she could see his face. 

Brian was quiet for several seconds.  "My head hurts."  He said finally. "And... it's like I can't focus.  Everything's just really fuzzy."  He fell silent again.  "Karen?  What's happening with the game?"

"Well..."  Karen studied the screen.  "Kevin's throwing the ball back to the mound.  Um... now he's getting back behind the plate... he's adjusting his mask..."

Brian smiled.  "Do you ever watch anyone else?  Who's batting?"

"I don't know."  Karen shrugged.  "All that's in my line of sight are his knees and shoes.  Oooh!  The inning's over, and Kevin's heading back  to the dugout.  That was a fairly nice a-- shot."  Kevin was by far the best looking guy on the field. 

"You scare me a little."  Brian said disjointedly.

"Brian?"  Karen wondered as a commercial for a real man's truck appeared on the screen.  "Seriously, who do you think's going to win tonight?"

Brian's eyes opened, staring over at her.  "We are."  He said firmly.