This is a fictional account of what happened to a fictional team in 1987. The Minnesota Twins are not a fictional team and they did win the Series in 1987. However they do play in a park that many think is only somewhat similar to a real playing field. The characters in this fictional story are entirely fictional. They are not meant to represent any person; real or fictional.

 

Baseball Annie

by Jill M I

 

"A life is not important except in the impact it has on others." – Jackie Robinson

It was a night when everything went right. As the teams changed positions each inning from batting to fielding, the announcer plugged the local radio station into the public address system. Consistently, they missed the ads for seed corn and the local auto dealership and heard tunes by BTO, Grand Funk and Lynyrd Skynard. WOOK (AM radio) equally divided their airtime between ads and music so luck was with the fans this evening.

Andy Blake was playing second base for the Kenosha American Legion. Andy was just getting used to his teammates. They were all three or four years older them him. Andy was from Racine but had been invited to play with this select team due to his phenomenal talent. Even though it was only their fifth game together, most of the players considered Andy to be their friend.

It was the first year that Andy's dad wasn't his coach. Walt Blake had taught him almost everything he knew about baseball... and that was considerable. Walt had been a ‘phenom’ in his day as well. Even though Walt had listened to The Mills Brothers, Patti Page and Tony Bennett when he played, the game of baseball was timeless. There was only one way to play baseball if you were a true Blake. You did all you could to give your team the best chance of winning.

Andy looked to the stands. As always, his dad was sitting directly behind the catcher, about ten rows up… by himself. It wasn't that he didn't like people. The Blakes were outgoing. The Blakes did what they could to be as nice as possible. It was just... well this was a ball game! You had to have your priorities. It wouldn’t do to change where he sat. That would bring bad luck.

Andy loved his dad. He was obsessed with the game his dad had taught him. The smell of his glove, the feel of a well-made uniform, the texture of a new ball all were dear to his heart.

Just before the last warm-up pitch, after which Andy would have to cover the bag to glove the throw from the catcher, Andy squinted his eyes and scanned the crowd. He knew she wouldn't be there. In his heart, he believed she was always there.

Next month, it would be two years since she had died suddenly from an aneurysm. In the twelve years they had been together, she had shown Andy the importance of respect. She had taught him not to be frugal with his love. He gave freely of himself to all around him and felt their love in return.

Due to his mother’s influence, Andy tended to show concern and sympathy when he communicated with others.

"Comin' down."

Andy moved to the second sack to take the throw. He moved with the grace of a gifted 14 year-old who had a purpose in life and the talent to complete what he started.

Walt watched his son take the throw and complete the play with a toss to the third basemen. (Never, does the second baseman throw the ball directly to the pitcher. That would also be bad luck.) Walt knew precisely where son's career was going. Andy would play a year of college ball at Texas A&M before signing a major league contract. He would play a year in the instructional leagues before spending four years working his way through the minors. He would take his rightful spot in the ‘Bigs’ just prior to his 24th birthday. Andy was a little small at 5'5" and 125 lbs. But he would grow and put on weight.

Walt’s career mental image for Andy, left no alternative. Walt had missed his shot at the major's. He had suffered a freak injury in "AA" when a hot smash ‘handcuffed’ him and shattered his right elbow. Such an injury was irreparable in the 50's.

As any father worthy of being called ‘dad’ can tell you, watching your son succeed is much more pleasurable than making it yourself.

Andy was wonderful. He always wore a smile. He smiled more than any boy Walt had ever seen. There was a playfulness about Andy’s approach to life that also distinguished him from other boys. He was different.

Most boys who are different have problems with their peers. Not Andy. His prowess on the field gained him acceptance with everyone that mattered to him.

The older Blake scanned the field seeing all. He wouldn’t allow himself to miss a move his son made. After the game, father and son would review every nuance within every play. On the ride home and for hours after, they would review the strategy that dictated where everyone should’ve been on the field.

If only... Walt never allowed himself to go down that path too far. She was gone. He had to concentrate on Andy. Andy was his life now. They had no other living family. No grandparents, no brothers, sisters, uncles or aunts. They had each other. The Blakes were pragmatist. Their concerns were satisfying needs and creating desired results.

Walt loved Andy even more than he loved baseball. What he wanted for Andy was what he thought was the best. Baseball was their passion.

***

She was the prettiest girl in the ballpark. That wasn’t much of an honor that night as there were only two other girls in attendance. Most Beautiful wasn’t a title she would have sought. She was at the game with a purpose. Her dad was working and she was there to help. His work had brought them to Sioux Falls, South Dakota.

This wasn’t Yankee Stadium… far from it. The Northern League was the bottom of the minors and Sioux Falls’ team wasn’t in the race for the league championship. The temperature was in the 40's. It might have been a very handsome evening. However, due to the overcast and the threatening rain, the teams were playing under what passed for lighting. These drawbacks meant little to Sue. It was the fifth game they were attending that week and it was only Thursday. Sue’s love for baseball was equal to and mainly because of her love for her dad.

She was keeping a scorecard. She always did. When she would get home two nights later she would carefully file the cards from this trip for future reference. Her father had taught her the best way to prepare for quick change in the future was to keep accurate records and notes. Her scorecards were meticulous and carried her personal insights. When the time came, she would be ready to help make the right personnel moves.

"Come on Tommy! Give it a ride." Urged Sue.

A man sitting two rows down looked back. His face questioned her right to be yelling at the player.

"Hit it to the gap, Tommy."

The man, who appeared to be in his late 20’s, turned completely around and looked at Sue again. At the age of 14, she wasn't interested in attracting the lingering stares of older men. She concentrated on her scorecard and ignored the eyes boring into her.

"Yeeerrr out!!!"

The umpire rang up Tommy with enthusiasm. The ballplayers weren’t the only ones in the park auditioning for a higher calling.

Tommy was caught looking for a called strike three when a belt-high fastball (one he could have driven to the gap) split the plate.

"That's okay Tommy. You'll get him next time." She turned over her scorecard and carefully printed,

 

Tommy Barnes needs to learn to shorten his grip on the bat after two strikes to protect the plate.

"Missy! I’ve been coming to these games all season. I've never seen you here before." The man was dressed for a cool night at the stadium. The left front panel of his windbreaker proudly stated We Build Rite, Inc.

"No sir. I've not been to this stadium for any other game this year."

There was no P.A. system announcing the batters. They didn’t sell programs at Thursday night games. He didn’t know the batter’s name, so how in heck could she?

"You’re sure that player's name is Tommy?"

"Yes, sir."

"You his sister?"

"No sir."

"You’re too young to be his girl." The gentlemen stated the obvious trying to get to the bottom of the mystery. Rudeness and curiosity must have been encouraged at We Build Rite, Inc.

"Then tell me, how is it you know that ballplayer’s name?’

"I know all the players’ names." She was tempted to put in her transistor radio ear plug and ignore him. If she was lucky, she could catch Barry White singing Can’t Get Enough of Your Love or that dreamy duet with Bill Medley and Jennifer Warnes. But that would have been disrespectful, even to an oaf like him.

"All the players?"

"Yes. On both teams."

"Bull! Sioux Falls players come and go so fast… there’s no one who knows all the players."

"Well I do."

"Sure you do… and I’m the Governor of this here fine state."

"I’m not pulling your leg. The catcher’s name for the Fargo team is Johnson. Craig Johnson. He played his college ball in California at USC. This is his second year of playing organized ball. The fellow on the mound is Will Tangiers. Will has just signed with "AA" Salt Lake City and will be leaving right after the game. The first basemen is playing in his third game for the Redhawks, he is really an outfielder and is being forced to play first to see if he has the agility… He’s Luis Santine… The Orioles just bought his option…"

"Okay, okay, I believe you. You must be the biggest minor league fan in the world."

"Oh, I’m not really a fan."

"Not really a fan? What do you mean? You know more about the players than anyone else here tonight."

"Not everyone. And, I’m really not a fan. I’m a business person. Well, my dad is a business person and I’m helping him this Summer."

"A business person? What business are you and your daddy in?"

"Baseball."

"Baseball. Does your daddy sell bats, balls and uniforms or something like that?"

"No. My father buys and sells ballplayers. We travel all over looking at prospects and suspects."

"Say, little girl, what’s your name?"

"You ask a lot of questions fella." The voice came from behind the construction worker. When he swung around and stood to face the man talking to him, Sue read the motto on his back. We Build ‘em Rite the First Time. "I’m Red Robinson, Sue’s my daughter. Are you enjoying the game?"

The suddenly silent, young man automatically shook the hand offered to him by "Red" Robinson, owner of the Sioux Falls Explorers, and nationally known as the outspoken owner of the Minnesota Twins.

**

Fifteen years later, the P.A. was blasting music to help the batting practice fans get in the mode to buy $2.75 beers. La Bamba… by Los Lobos, not Ritchie Valens. The Beastie Boys were fighting for the right to party while John Fogarty was lobbying his coach for more playing time.

All this was irrelevant to Andy’s game preparation. Had Andy glanced up at the Jumbotron from his windsprints in the outfield, he would have seen a candid picture of his buddy Steve Nelson… with a wad of chewing gum stuck to the bill of his cap. The Dome cameraman was amusing the early crowd catching unaware players. Those not familiar with baseball superstitions, might have thought Steve was a slob, sticking his unwanted gum wherever he pleased. To those who understood baseball superstitions, the wad of gum on the bill of his cap was Steve’s method of removing the hex someone had placed on his bats --- causing him to go 3 for 29 over the past week.

Athletes are superstitious. The outcomes of many sporting events are based on luck rather than actual performance. A gust of wind at the right (or wrong) time will push a field goal wide. The total number of points each player wins in a tennis match can be contrary to the number of games they win. The total number of games they win might seem entirely backward from who wins the match. A player could win a match 7-5, 7-5, 0-6, 0-6 and 7-5. In that case, the loser would have won 27 ‘games’ and the winner 21.

The gods of sports are not always fair when they choose a winner. This season bad luck had a hold on the Minnesota Twins.

They were about to play in their third game after the all-star break. Their team batting average was .265. It was good enough for third in the majors. The Twins team ERA was 4.35, fifth in the majors… not that much worse than league leading 3.68. Somehow …they were 10 games out of first in a very weak division.

The were also a good fielding team, with only 40 total team errors for the season to date. However, it seemed like each and every error led to one or two unearned runs.

Errors. Andy didn’t make errors. In the five years he had been on the Twins he had a total of two errors. Both of them had been in Cleveland.

Cleveland… Most official scorers bend over backward to give the home team players hits. Unless you booted the ball out of the park they’re going to give their guy a boast in the batting average. Not Cleveland. In Cleveland, they’d rather hurt the opponent’s chance for a Gold Glove.

Andy couldn’t understand why Cleveland’s team and staff didn’t respect the game as they should. Andy didn’t hate Cleveland. Andy didn’t hate anyone. Cleveland was simply an obstacle to overcome so Andy could do his job right. It was Andy’s nature to be cooperative. Carrying the sprit of competition to an obnoxious level was offensive to him.

Some of Andy’s teammates weren’t as kind. There was bad blood between the two clubs. The Twins thought Cleveland went out of their way to jinx them. The Cleveland players were always walking where they shouldn’t be. If you didn’t watch them, they would sneak over and run their hands over the Twins’ bats and gloves. Their pitchers would make a big production of holding the ball with both hands. Not the normal, rubbing up of the ball that other pitchers do… they did the two-hand touching that puts dope on the ball to hoodoo the batter.

Andy glanced over at section 125, row 9, seat 4. For the first three years Andy played for the Twins, that had been his dad’s seat. It was directly behind homeplate. High enough so he could see the entire field. Andy paid for his dad’s season tickets. He had pulled some strings to get that choice location.

Andy’s father had followed him through the minors. He had seen a few of his games in the Appalachian league, half a dozen Visalia, California games and a good number for the Toledo Mudhens. This was a decade after the Mudhens were made famous by Jamie Farr… Corporal Clinger on M*A*S*H.

Walt quit his job, sold his house and moved to the Twin Cities area so he could watch his son play. He knew the value of support. All that ended when his father’s pickup was hit by a speeding car.

The dram shop suit was still working its way through the courts. ‘Dram shop’: what a cute name for laws! A dram is a small drink, a liqueur. The person that killed Andy’s father didn’t have any use for liqueur. He was ‘a shot and a bump’ boozehound. When he hit Walt’s car in his rusted out Dodge, his blood alcohol content was .22. He should have been passed out. He had been drinking all day. Four hours at the first bar, two at the second, an hour at the third and five more hours at the last… twelve straight hours of whiskey and beer.

Walt Blake had been on his way home from a convenience store. He had bought a ready-made ham and cheese sandwich and a bottle of juice for a late snack. Walt didn’t drink, smoke or do drugs. His alert mind and well-conditioned body didn’t save him when the lush came through the stop sign and t-boned his car on the driver’s side.

The attorney said Minnesota dram laws held each and every bar punishable ‘joint and several’ under civil action. In discovery, they had found each bar was carrying the state statute required insurance coverage. The total limits of liability available under the four policies was $3.5 million. Andy had been told this 18 months ago. The lawyer said that serving that much alcohol to an obviously impaired person was egregious. They would easily win a huge award. Andy wasn’t all that interested. The attorney had found him from accounts of the accident in the paper. He had offered to do the case on contingent. The less Andy thought about the accident, the better. Andy didn’t understand drinking. To him, anything that might keep him away from the park was a waste of time.

Andy had sought counseling after his father was killed. He had cried himself to sleep many nights and gained relief by opening up to a minister. He found by reaching out for help he was able to work through his grief.

If the truth were known, Andy’s father had completed his usefulness to Andy. He had taught him a work ethic that allowed him to play for the Twins. Andy would never say this, never think this, but it was Andy’s true perspective.

Andy took the doughnut off the bat he used to loosen his shoulders and picked up his glove. It was the same glove he had been using for the past nine years. He would replace the leather lacing twice a year. He couldn’t imagine playing with any other glove. He called his glove Goldy. Not that Gold Gloves were Andy’s concern. They don’t give Gold Gloves to utility infielders. Andy played when the other players needed a rest or were injured. He was a Jack-of-All-Trades.

At the end of the previous season, when the Twins were securely in last place with no hope of climbing out, they played Andy an inning at every position. It was the type of thing you do when you don’t have much else to attract fans. The inning when he pitched had been the most difficult. His 78 MPH fastball wasn’t going to scare anyone. It isn’t effective to throw a change-up, if you don’t have a fastball. They scored two runs on him without the team recording an out. He was saved from total embarrassment when the next two batters hit a warning track pop-up off his meatball curve followed by an at’em ball liner to the shortstop that wound up as a double play.

His glove was his prized possession. He didn’t own a car or a home. He lived in an apartment and took a cab to the Dome or the airport. He always left so early for games, appointments or flights he didn’t have a problem with the occasional slow responding cab.

A Jack-of-All-Trades and unfortunately… Ace-of-None. He could throw, run, and hit with the best. He just didn’t have power. Not one homerun in five years. Players complained about ‘warning track’ power; hits that fall a few feet short of being out of the park. Andy didn’t even have that. Other teams realized his lack of power and played their outfielders as much as fifteen yards closer to the infield. This type of defensive alignment made it very difficult for him to get a hit. Balls that might have gone through to the gap, were easily cut off. Once or twice a year, he was embarrassed as he was thrown out at first by an outfielder.

If Andy was one to complain about circumstances, he had a legitimate gripe. He was with the wrong team, in the wrong park and playing in the wrong league. He was a role player on a team that didn’t have the three or four big time stars to be augmented. The Dome was known as a power hitter’s park. It was 408 to center and 344 down the left field line. (Andy was strictly a right hand hitter.) For the last three years, Andy had enjoyed the advantage of the super bounce balls took off the SporTurf. He would bat balls into the turf in front of the pitcher and the other team would wait in vain for the ball to come down while he used his speed to get to first (the Dome’s version of the Baltimore chop). He had gotten twenty-two hits that way last year. Twenty-two hits to a utility player is worth sixty points on a batting average. The league had complained and the Twins had switched to a much less bouncy Astroturf.

If Andy were playing in the National league, his skills would be more appreciated. Due to the lack of a designated hitter, the National League is more apt to manufacturer runs by moving the runner over with a bunt, hit and runs, etc. That type of traditional baseball would have been better suited to Andy. As it was Andy would be batting at or below the Mendoza line for the season.

He wasn’t one to think about what wasn’t. He lived in the present, not dwelling on the past or planning too much for the future.

Under all the smiles, there was a sadness that went beyond the loss of parents and lack of family.

Something wasn’t right.

Andy was too busy and too focused on baseball to take the steps needed to identify and correct what ailed him.

Andy would have preferred playing all his games outdoors. He had a thing about clouds on a sunny day, the feel of sun in his face, the smell of rain, the colors of a sunset… Sometimes Andy would be moved to tears by the beauty of nature. He didn’t share this with his teammates or his coaches. He didn’t share it with anyone as there was no one else in his life.

Andy knew the game. He was great for clubhouse chemistry. Andy saw himself as a ballplayer. Period. He valued those principles that allowed him to be a better ballplayer. He adapted his behavior to whatever work conditions that came along. Alcohol could hurt his ability to play, so he didn’t drink. Tobacco was bad for the lungs so he didn’t smoke. Smokeless tobacco was a huge distraction, what with all the spitting and chewing, so he didn’t pick up that habit. Less than 2% of the players in the major leagues didn’t smoke, chew or drink. Andy was different.

Some might say Andy had arrested development. Life had been kept stress free for him by his parents and the Twins organization. His opportunities for personal growth by overcoming the small adversities in daily life had been few.

Others would say he was perfectly suited to make the best of his current situation. He was as good a Twin as he could possibly be.

Players respected his professional approach to the game. He was the first player at the park on game days and the last to go home. The players and Twins organization were his only friends. Players come and go. Once you’d been a teammate of Andy’s or coached Andy, you were his friend for life. Although, Andy rarely went out of his way to keep old friendships alive. Unlike his teammates, he was extremely good at establishing rapport.

Andy considered the Skipper to be his friend. The Field Manager (Coach) for the Twins was Roger Ertelt. Everyone invariably called him Skip, Skipper or The Skipper.

Andy didn’t want intense relationships. He had no time for the woman that threw themselves at him. Sex wasn’t helpful to his career and therefore was unimportant.

If the Twins had a problem player, they would have him room with Andy. He was a great influence. Players that others thought were churlish soon became teachable under the fostering care of Andy Blake.

Andy knew a lot about hitting. The main thing his dad had taught him was how to go with the pitch.

A batter could have success with just about anything the pitcher threw if he didn’t fight it. Andy had seen many batters pick balls out of the dirt and ‘golf’ them out of the park. Andy’s specialty was dropping the head of the bat to hit low and away pitches to the opposite field.

This adaptability carried over to Andy’s personal philosophy of life. He went with the flow. If it felt right to him, he knew it was right.

His contract negotiations were always cordial. Money meant almost nothing to him. He worked for a fair salary as the Twins’ management appreciated his demeanor. He didn’t have an agent. He thought they got in the way. In Andy’s estimation the damage agents did to player/management relationships didn’t offset their advantages. Andy didn’t want control or the power in relationships. He just wanted to be the best at what he did.

He didn’t invest his money, as he didn’t want to be bothered. His money was deposited directly into a money market account. He had enough. His life was simple. He could have lived a dozen such lifetimes and still have money left over.

Andy thought the world of Mrs. Sue Robinson. She was the only female in his life. He didn’t really think of her as a female. She was part of the team. They often worked together at baseball clinics for area boys and girls. They seemed to get paired quite often at the charity golf tournaments. Andy could talk baseball with her for hours. She really knew her stuff. Even though he knew her and liked her, he never allowed himself to be familiar with her. Familiarity would complicate things. It could possibly hurt his baseball career. Or, he could loss her respect.

Minneapolis/St. Paul loved him and appreciated his positive attitude and the nurturing work he did with kids and his obvious giving nature. He did whatever the Twins organization asked him to do in the way of community involvement. As he didn’t have a family and didn’t like to party, he was almost always available for this charity or that public appearance. He didn’t do commercials, he wouldn’t do store openings or autograph signing bazaars where he could have sold his signature. (Although he signed hundreds of autographs daily, whenever fans could catch him at a time he wasn’t working on his game.

Today was Sunday. Many of the players hated Sunday games. Especially when they’d leave town later in the day on a road trip. Andy didn’t have a family and thought religion was an imposition. Sunday was just another day.

His credo was simple… be the best player you could be. Being the best meant you did whatever was needed to help your team win.

Unfortunately, it was starting to appear that the best way he could help the Twins was to be cut. Andy was prepared for the inevitable. He was satisfied he had done his best. As he didn’t think about the future, he wasn’t really too concerned.

***

"The Twins have a big financial problem."

This was not the first time Sue Robinson had heard this. This time it was coming from the CEO of Norwest Bank. Norwest held the operating loan for the Twins. The Twins weren’t as valuable as most baseball franchises. They had recently been appraised at close to $120 million compared to a league average of close to $250 million. Their debt was approaching $45 million. The bank had told her years ago it would not allow the debt to exceed 40% of the franchise value. The past three years running the interest on the loan had exceeded the profit from the operation. The deficit was pushing the total debt dangerously close to the maximum.

Due to low attendance, this fiscal year was projected to be the worst of the past five. Unless things changed quickly, the club would lose about $5 million.

Sue’s office was in the Dome. She could look past the banker’s head …out into the reaches of the Metrodome. She could see the thousands of seats. Empty seats. Most of them would still be empty when today’s game started.

The banker had chosen Sunday morning to meet with her to emphasize the magnitude of the situation. He was there to talk at Sue, not with her.

"Red never would have allowed this to happen." The banker paused when he saw Sue wince. She was a wonderful person. He hated to inflict this pain. But, for her own good, he had to go forward with what he had to say. He took a moment to look her over. She was dressed as elegantly as always. She was beautiful and would make someone a great wife. Why didn’t she just give it up, take her money and live the good life?

Sue understood his intent. She knew her father would have had better answers to the problems facing the Twins.

If only her father and her husband hadn’t gone to Canada 18 months ago. If only they had come back. If only she had been more of a tomboy wanting to fish with them. If only, she had drowned along with them.

Sue’s father had been her only living relative. He was her life. If someone took a shot at Red’s chin, they would have to contend with Sue.

They had put their shoulder to the grindstone together. Neither really enjoyed the work that much, but both of them loved baseball. They lived in a small market. They had no outside source of income. Through guile and hard work they had kept the franchise afloat. They were competing with enormously wealthy owners who could use their team losses to offset other gains within their financial empires. It was bad luck the Twins were playing against a stacked deck. The primary strength of the Twins had been the inseparable team of father and daughter.

It was no wonder when Sue had married she had kept the family name.

Sue would gladly spend the worth of the franchise down to the last penny, if she could get the financial backing of the banks.

The banks didn’t have the same utter disregard for money. In fact, they thought her foolish. She could have sold the franchise several times to people who wanted to move it to a larger market. Red and Sue had made promises to the people of Minnesota and to themselves. Sue kept her promises.

Moreover, the memory of Red would not allow her to consider a sale the would jeopardize the future of major league baseball in Minnesota.

As she looked across the table at the banker, she saw a man who knew nothing of family values. She doubted if he understood that everything in Sue’s existence was defined by her family. Her family could no longer adapt the rules under which she lived in a changing society. The inheritance she has received was huge, but was very small compared to the responsibility it carried.

She was the matriarch of the Twins. It was as impossible for her to walk away from the Twins, as it would have been for her to walk away from the children she never had.

Not that she though of the players as children. Most of them were childlike; discourteous and surly. Those that were heavy into the steroids were dangerous. Even so, she enjoyed being around most of them. However, she had to keep her managerial perspective. If she allowed them to get too close, she might not be able to make all the right personnel decisions. It’s hard to cut or trade a friend.

There was one of the players she would have liked to have as a friend. Andy Blake was sweet. He had a inner softness you just don’t see in men that often. He was so nice to the children… all the time. Not just when the press was around, like some of the players. When she spoke to Andy, he was always easy to relate to, while other men seemed to want to engage her in a debate. He didn’t act superior to her. When they talked he would look her right in the eye. He had a habit of smiling and nodding his head to encourage more conversation.

Sue and her husband had wanted children, but they had only been married six months when the fishing accident occurred. It had been stupid for them to go. But, her husband had grown up in an orphanage and had never been fishing. Red had wanted to make his first fishing trip a ‘doozy’.

This one fishing trip, Sue had not gone with her dad. This one time she had stayed home to oversee construction on the couple’s new home. It would be a home she sold without occupying.

Even though she didn’t know it, she lived in the same apartment complex as Andy. They both lacked families and led very simple lives. They came to work early and left late. They were separated at work by rows and rows of those worrisome empty seats.

Sue ached to have someone to talk to… really talk to. There was no one to share her problems that really cared. There was no one to tell her how wonderful she was, when she did something great. Bankers were great on criticism and light when it came to plaudits.

Evidently the bank had someone who was adept at power point presentations. As the banker droned on about financial goals and revenue thresholds the power point played out graph after graph on the screen in the corner. The bank had used Twins’ colors in their graphics and their text.

Sue couldn’t help but remember it was her father who had picked the very colors the Twins wore on their backs.

**

"My knee has to be taped." The trainer, Curly Schiltz, looked at Andy in surprise.

It wasn’t that he knew Andy wasn’t starting and more than likely wouldn’t play. (Everyone was well rested coming off the all-star break and you don’t use a buck-ninety batter to pinch hit.)

It just wasn’t like Andy to be taped.

Andy needed his mobility to make the defensive plays that kept him on the team. You couldn’t properly turn the double play at second if you were heavily taped.

The twinge Andy had felt left him no choice.

He had been blessed with a strong body, even though he never had the growth spurt that his father predicted. Andy was 5’6" and 135 lbs (about 45 lbs. lighter than the average major league player). He didn’t have an ounce of fat on his body, and almost as little muscle. On the good side, his lack of muscle had kept him from having the nagging injuries his teammates always seemed to have. His lithe body allowed him to make the necessary acrobatic infield moves and throws.

Andy always thought he was lucky to have not broken any limbs as he was so small boned.

He had seen teammate after teammate give-in to the advantages of growing by using anabolic steroids. Andy was baseball crazy. However, he considered anyone who took steroids to be mentally ill.

He envied anyone that could legitimately hit the ball over 350 feet. Hitting it out of the park with the help of steroids was not legitimate.

"Shave it." Curly didn’t waste words.

Andy found his shaving kit in his locker. Andy rarely shaved …almost never at the Dome. He wasn’t like those teammates who wouldn’t shave if they were having trouble hitting or pitching. He just didn’t have to shave that often. He had a wispy mustache he had been growing since he was 20. It never seemed to fill in properly, but he couldn’t bring himself to get rid of it. He could go weeks without shaving without anyone saying anything. He wasn’t that conscious of his appearance. It was always months between haircuts.

At the time, he had about six inches of extra hair sticking out from under his batting helmet. He didn’t mind. Haircuts took time. They were just one more thing to get in the way of playing ball.

There was no question Andy would shave his leg, even though it was the first time for him. Andy would be ready to play. There was a small chance the Skipper would pinch-hit for an infielder with one of the better hitters. They might need to make a defensive switch in a late inning.

Andy went back to the shower room and lathered his entire leg. He didn’t realize he only had to shave several inches on either side of his knee… the area to be taped. True to his nature, Andy did more than he had to… lathering from toe to waist and shaving his leg smooth as a baby’s bottom. As he shaved, he considered how shaving his leg might become a daily routine for him now that he was getting older and would probably get hurt more often. Surprisingly, he wasn’t finding the task to be unpleasant.

As Andy walked from the shower, several of his teammates whistled and commented on his shapely ‘gam’. They were more than happy to tell him how he had gone overboard in preparing for his taping. Andy grinned in self-deprecation at his error and shrugged off the good-natured ribbing he took.

Curly finished the tape job as Steve Nelson sat next to Andy comparing his wife’s legs to Andy’s.

As the Twin’s took the field, the last of 3,000 paying customers settled into their seats. Everyone in the stadium could hear Wally the Beerman, "Beer here. Beer here." It was eerie. The paid attendance was announced at 8,739 so there were a lot of ‘no shows’.

The fans did their best to cheer on the Twins. Cleveland had beat them 8-1 and 6-2 the prior two games. No one expected much. Somehow the Twins pitching kept them in this game. When the Twins came to bat in the bottom of the ninth, they were down 1-0.

The team and some of the fans turned their caps inside out hoping for a late game rally. They were disappointed when the first Twin’s batter chopped a low fastball back to the shortstop.

It was one away.

The umpire apparently took pity on the faithful and added some life to the game by issuing a walk. Three of what he’d called balls seemed to have caught the edge of the plate. The next batter slammed a ball off the baggy in right field for a legitimate double leaving a man on third and one on second.

For the first time in what seemed like weeks, things looked extremely positive. The Indians pulled their starter, who was still working on a shutout, to bring in their closer. The Twins hadn’t scored off the Indian’s closer all year. No team had really solved his knuckleball. He was carrying a gaudy 1.75 ERA.

The Twins took advantage of the time to change pitchers to make sure all the bats in the dugout weren’t crossed. The players sitting on the bench checked to see if everyone’s legs were either crossed or uncrossed at the same time. The entire team was holding their caps upside down by the bills; shaking them in a circular motion.

If there was any luck to be had, they wanted it on their side.

The next Twins batter came to the plate charged by the feeble roar of the meager crowd. He connected with a pitch that sailed 340 feet down the right field line slicing foul by under five feet.

Unfortunately, the 3-2 pitch he didn’t find to his liking was called a strike by that same ump that was so beneficial only moments ago. It looked like the Twins’ bad luck was still with them.

The Twins were down to one out. If this batter didn’t reach first, they would be at least eleven games out of first, swept by the Indians and continuing on the road to oblivion.

The Twins had one All Star, their centerfielder. He was coming to the plate. He was hitting .335. The bad news was; he was hitting .225 with batters in scoring position. The Skipper thought about bringing in someone else. He looked down his bench at what he quickly determined were poor alternatives and moved to his lucky spot on the bench.

The knuckleballer had the count at 1-2 when the batter hit a towering popup to the leftfielder. The runners were off with the pitch and would easily score before the ball came down. It was the hapless Twins luck their runs would not count once the ball was caught.

The left fielder parked under the ball and pounded his glove for the can of corn. Suddenly things got interesting. He had lost the ball in the Teflon coated fiberglass that served as the roof of the Dome. There are 10 acres of roof over the Dome… a field of white. When he finally found the ball, it was too late. He lunged as the ball hit the Astroturf.

The game was over. Twins win 2-1.

It wasn’t their first win of the year, but you would’ve thought so. Even though these were professionals playing a season that lasted for months, this game meant a great deal to them.

The Skipper sensed an opportunity to break out of the malaise that had been keeping his team from achieving. He shut the door to the locker room and held a team meeting. No press! The Skipper wanted a chance to talk with the team… alone.

"Boys, that’s the way to play baseball. Stick in the game until luck finally comes to play on your side."

The locker rocked with jubilation. Luck had arrived in their clubhouse. This was something new. If luck had been involved this season, it had been bad.

The Skipper wasn’t a certified psychologist, but he was an expert in what goes on between a ballplayer’s ears.

"Whatever we did different today, let’s do it again tomorrow. The Yankees are coming to town and I’d sure like to give them something to think about."

The players all looked at each other.

What had been different?

They had worn the same uniforms as the past two days. Their pre-game meal had been the same. All of them had gone through their own standard rituals at the plate and getting dressed.

"It’s Andy’s leg." offered Curly. "Andy’s never shaved his leg before. That’s what jinxed the other team."

The entire team was anxious to find the reason for the win, so they could do it again. Andy was eager to be part of the victory, so he didn’t question Curly’s wisdom.

The Skipper looked over at Andy. "We’ll test it tomorrow. Tomorrow you shave the other leg and we’ll see what happens."

"Okay Skip!" It was nothing to Andy other than a small inconvenience. It wasn’t going to have an impact on his ability to play… so who cared.

Tomorrow he’d come to the Dome early and shave his entire other leg.

**

Up in the executive suite, Sue paced the floor. Her team had won. Could they win two in a row against such an opponent? A winning streak could be started so easily. This team had potential. Did she dare to hope?

Her father had jumped six of the current players from "AA’ to the majors four years ago. He had even brought their manager from the "AA" team up with them. Toledo Mudhens one day, Minnesota Twins the next. One of the local sportswriters, Sol Lunggal, said they played like a bunch of mudhens the first two years.

They now were good players and the experience in the big leagues had helped them. They just didn’t have an idea how to win consistently.

She couldn’t afford to go out into the free agent market to buy a veteran winner to show them how it was done.

The local press had been kind to Red. They understood what he was trying to accomplish. His strategy was a way for a small market team to compete.

They Twins had been expected to do better than last place, last year. Injuries had been frequent and serious. The scheduling had been bad. Sue had thought this year would be different. So far things hadn’t happened the way they thought it should have.

You really couldn’t blame the fans. The franchise hadn’t won a pennant in seventeen years. The town would respond to a winner, if she could just figure out how to field a winner without spending any money.

They had drawn over 3 million fans not too many years ago. This year they were on a pace to draw 1.4 million. Maybe it was her fate to have to sell the team.

It was late. She looked at her half-finished meal and thought about going home. Sue often took her meals at the park. She’d rather be in the park eating a hotdog than spending another evening alone in a fancy restaurant. Cooking at home for one was so depressing.

She kept several changes of clothes in her office. She often slept there. Some people loved the Dome. Others hated it, preferring outdoor baseball. Sue thought of it as home.

According to the marketing people, the Twins lacked personality. There was nothing about them that was special in the eyes of the fans. They didn’t have pizzazz. They were nice players who played a good brand of ball. Not one jerk in the bunch.

Dad had taught her people will come if you put a winner on the field. The payroll you had to pay to field a winner was huge. So huge that you couldn’t generate the revenue needed strictly through the gate receipts. The other revenue in a small market just doesn’t compare to what you can get in L.A. or New York. However, if you didn’t put a winner on the field people didn’t come and you didn’t even have the gate. It was a vicious cycle.

What would Red have done?

**

The electronic sign outside the Dome blinked:

YANKEES TODAY

Has there ever been a more compelling billboard in all of baseball?

Nothing spins the turnstiles faster than a game with the pinstripes. You'd think Babe Ruth, Lou Gehrig, Joe DiMaggio, Yogi Berra, Whitey Ford and Mickey Mantle were suiting up.

The Twins had been averaging about 20,000 fans a game coming into this series. Here it was Monday night... the worse drawing night of the week... and it looked like a crowd of 35,000. The Yankees were leading the Eastern Division by four games and were the favorites to take the pennant and the Series.

Andy arrived at the park fifteen minutes before his normal early time. By the time any of his teammates were in the dressing room, he had his other leg completely shaved.

His teammates appreciated what he had done and kept the wiseacre remarks to a 'bare' minimum. This was very hard. Andy had some nicely shaped legs that begged whistles. If you looked at his legs and didn't know Andy and didn't look what they were attached to... you could be misled.

The Twins worked especially hard before the game to assure that nothing jinxed them that day. Their starting pitcher didn't shave his face (or his legs for that matter). Every player put on the same uniform as the day before, without having them cleaned. All the outfielders remembered to touch second base going to and from the field. Absolutely no one on the team stepped on the chalk baselines. Everyone wore a red tie coming to the stadium.

The game wasn't even close. The Twins combined timely hitting with four double plays and won 5-2. The crowd was 'in the game' from the start. Everyone went home from the ballpark satisfied the Twins were the equal of any team in baseball.

After the game, the Skipper thanked Andy for doing what he did. All of the Twins were now convinced they had luck in their camp.

The morning paper contained a column by Sol Lunggal. Sol cautioned the Minnesota fans to ‘wait and see’. George Steinbrenner's boys weren't going to lie down. They had their ace on the mound and things were going to be a lot tougher. Sol and George were very close and very personal friends.

Prior to the game, Steve came up to Andy. He dragged him off into a corner where nobody could hear.

"Andy, you've got to help me."

"Sure Steve. What's the problem? Do you need a loan or something?"

"Nah, I'm okay with the money. But, I really do need your help."

Steve had come through the minors with Andy. Lately, Steve had been in a terrible slump. He was supposed to be their batter in the four spot. Usually the clean up position is reserved for a .300 power hitter. Steve's current average was .235.

"Skip's moving me to seventh. If I don't start hitting he's going to send me down to 'AAA'." Getting sent down when you’re in your late 20's can be the kiss of death. Every ballplayer in the world can tell you the story of Wally Pipp. Wally had a headache one day and was replaced by Lou Gehrig. Lou never gave up his starting assignment until 2,130 games later. Wally was quoted years later as saying, "I took the two most expensive aspirins in history."

When Gehrig finally announced his retirement due to what was later named Lou Gehrig’s disease he said, "I consider myself to be the luckiest man on the face of the earth."

Andy could commiserate with Steve’s misery.

"It's really bad this time. I've been sleeping with my bats for about a month and still can't break out of this thing."

"That's rough... what can I do for you." Andy really wanted to help.

"Here's how I've got this whole thing figured." Steve lowered his voice again to a whisper so that only Andy could hear. "I don't want you to get mad. You've got to promise me you'll remember how long we've been teammates."

"I promise. Now who do I have to kill?"

Steve wasn't looking for humor. His face was turning scarlet. What he had to say wasn't going to be easy. "Andy, you've got some good looking legs."

"COME ON STEVE." Andy looked around the locker room to see who was watching. He wanted to see who was in on the joke with Steve. He could see a few people were looking at him, but no one was laughing. He looked at Steve and saw deep concern in his face.

"Andy, I need you to do this. I'll pay you."

"What is it you want me to do." They both were whispering again.

"Well... here's the deal. When you shaved your leg the first day you looked a little feminine."

"Golly... Steve. So I'm not as big as the rest of you. I'm no homosexual, you know that." There had been homosexuals on the team from time to time. It was fairly common in baseball. There were three 'out of the closets' on the current team. Most of the guys were fairly understanding. Only a few of the rednecks would make a raw comment now and again. Andy wasn’t upset by anyone with a different lifestyle. Sex with either gender wasn’t on his radar-screen.

"That's not what I'm getting at. What I'm saying is a fact. Your shaved leg looked like a woman's. And, when you shaved your other leg, you became even more feminine. Actually, quite a bit more."

"Telling me I look like a sissy won’t get me to do a favor for you...'

"Andy… I'm only telling you what everyone is saying."

"Okay... so let's agree for the sake of moving this discussion on... that my legs aren't quite as manly as they were before I shaved them. So what."

"Here's the deal Andy. I figure in order for the team to be lucky; you have to get a little more feminine each day."

"That's a crock. I admit we've won two games we didn't really count on winning. But, hey Steve, that's happened before."

"I know this hasn't really been put to any test. But, I don't have the time to run experiments. I need to have you do something for me today. We'll just keep it between you and me. I need this. I've got to get my swing back or I'll be a fond memory."

"You still haven't told me what it is you want me to do."

"It's not easy... it sounds so damned silly... but you have to do it."

"Let’s have it Steve. I don't have all day. You’re not the only one having hitting problems. I need to get extra b.p."

"Okay, okay... here it is. Just before the game starts today, after the National Anthem, I want you to duck back in the locker room and spray on a little of this cologne."

"What?"

"I don't know what else you could do... I just know we need... I need all the luck you can bring me. And, your luck comes from you becoming more feminine each day. I've thought and thought of something else for you to do... and this is all I could think of... will you do it?"

"And, you think this will help us win."

"I'm almost 100% sure."

"Okay Steve, I'll give it a try. I’m only going to put on a little so people don’t notice."

"That's okay. Just a little bit should work. Geez! Thanks, Andy. This is great. How much do you want for this?"

"There's not enough money in the world to pay me to do this... but if it's going to help the team... I'm all in favor."

Steve gave Andy a small curved bottle. The words L'Air du Temps were on it’s bottom on a gold label.

As the team took the field against the Yankees, Andy rushed back to their locker room and took out the bottle. He assumed you splashed on the cologne like aftershave. When he took off the cap he discovered it was a spray bottle. He pulled up his jersey and gave himself a couple of squirts in each armpit. He caught a few strange looks from the other Twins, but as the game went on everyone's attention was directed to the field.

The bottom of the ninth inning rolled around and the score was a 4-4 tie.

Nelson had broken out of his slump. He was three for three with a walk. Two of his hits were doubles. His single had set off a three run inning. He came up with one away and hit a 2-0 fastball into the left field bleachers for a walk-off homerun.

As the team met at the mound for the traditional high fives, Steve hugged Andy. "You smell like a French whore, but it was worth it. I don't know what I can ever do to get us even."

"Don’t worry. Your homerun was all the thanks I needed."

The two smiled at each other like the longtime friends that they were and joined in the celebration.

Andy spent a long time in the shower scrubbing. Incredibly, he seemed to smell even more feminine after he took a shower.

The next day was the fourth and final game with the Yankees. The Twins top pitcher was taking the mound and the Dome was alive with an air of optimism. By the end of the fourth inning the game was already out of hand. Unfortunately, it was the Bronx Bombers who were on top 8-1. They coasted to a 12-4 victory.

Once again, the Skipper called a team meeting before allowing the press to come in the room.

"So what happened?"

Everyone looked at each other expecting someone else to come up with an answer.

Steve looked across the room and begged, "Doggone it Andy, I've got to tell them."

"I suppose you do." said Andy "Go ahead."

"You know how Andy smelled yesterday?" Everyone shook their heads in affirmation.

"And, you know he still smells somewhat girlish today. Doesn't he?" Again the locker room bobbed their heads. Andy blushed. He hadn't been aware the cologne was still lingering.

"Well this loss proves it... unless Andy becomes more womanish each day we no longer have his luck on our side."

What followed was general discussion of other possible superstitions that might have come into play. But, when all was said and done everyone, including Andy, was in agreement that Steve had a point.

"So what are you going to do?" The Skipper was looking directly at Andy.

"What do you want me to do?" Andy was programmed to look to the coach for guidance at times like this.

Nothing in all the years of the Skipper's experience covered this type of situation. He didn't have any idea what to do next. He started thinking aloud.

"There are certain things a man does and certain things a man doesn't do. Would you all agree?" No one could disagree with that.

"I mean, there are players on this team who have sacrificed quite a bit for the team to help us win. Wouldn't you all agree?" Again, it was hard not to agree with something as true as that.

"I'm not naming names or pointing any fingers here. I think we all know what happens to a guy's performance in bed when he takes a little something to help his performance on the field?" The room went dead quiet on that one. No one bobbed their head and no one shouted, "You got that right coach... my Willy ain't been up for quite some time!"

But if you looked deeply into the slightly yellow eyes of those who had bulked up with steroids over the past few years, you could see they were agreeing wholeheartedly with the coach.

The coach was beginning to see where he needed to go," As always, what’s said in this room stays in this room. I don't want anyone outside our team members to have any idea what Andy has done and what he might have to do in the future." The room rang again with agreement, now that coach wasn't asking anyone to reveal their impotence.

"Whatever we ask Andy to do has to be something that won't be too embarrassing." Andy led the affirmative agreement on that one.

"It's clear Andy needs to prove or disprove Steve's theory. The stakes are too high to ignore the signs. Andy, do you have any ideas how you can become more feminine each day without doing something that's totally too…?"

This wasn't really Andy's area of expertise. So the coach opened it up for discussion.

"How about if he puts on some ladies' underwear. It will be under his uniform and nobody but us will ever know." You might expect there was some giggling and fooling around, but that wasn't the case. The team was trying to win games and they were dead serious.

"He might use a little makeup, something that doesn't show."

"The main thing is he's gots ta keep shaving them legs and using that perfume... he can't go backward... only forward."

"What if he... only when he's out of sight of the public of course... but what if he walks a little different."

"Yeah and he could talk different... when its just us guys."

"The mustache has to go..."

"He could paint his toenails. No ones ever going to see his feet outside our locker room."

"He could shave his arms and the rest of his body."

Andy was taking it all in like a man. He had a job to do. His coach expected him to do it. His teammates were doing what they could to help him. He could see there was really no choice.

As long as it didn't have any serious impact on his ability to play the game... what did he care?

Luckily the Twins had an extended home stand. That night Andy went to the convenience store down the street from his apartment and made several purchases. He didn't notice the woman standing by the front counter watching him select some peculiar items (for a man).

The next day, Boston came to town. Before the game, Andy shaved his legs. He sprayed a small amount of the cologne in the air and walked into the mist figuring that would count and would wear off quickly. Then he painted his toenails with the pink enamel he had bought the night before.

They won, of course.

On the following day he added shaving his underarms and they won again.

Before the game on Saturday, he also shaved his arms, chest and back, leaving only his pubic hairs. Once again, another win for the Twins.

Sunday they had a double header. Before the first game he shaved all over, spritzed with perfume, checked his toenail polish and put on some clear lipstick.

Twin victories for the Twinkies.

Coming into the last game of the home stand, the Twins had won nine in a row and Andy was completing a daily 'beauty' treatment.

He was now talking in a voice that could land him a job with a 1-900 phone sex company. He was walking around the locker room with a sway in his hips due to the tiny steps he was taking and his inline strides. He was shaving everyday. His entire face was smooth and cleared of all hair. He was using the clear lipstick on a daily basis and was also using smearing on foundation. Several of his teammates had stolen undergarments from their wives. Under his uniform he was wearing a size nine pair of panties that fit him like a potato sack, a 38C bra and a pair of queen size panty hose.

All this was taking its toll on Andy. Although he wouldn't gripe to his teammates, he wasn't feeling his best. He had lost both his appetite and fifteen pounds ...from his already slight frame.

Andy was having trouble sleeping. He was agitated by conflicting thoughts. There was no doubt he was helping his team win. But, shouldn’t he be more embarrassed. His teammates were so supportive he was finding the whole things to be… enjoyable. That shouldn’t be.

**

The banker was back with an ultimatum. "My board is a group of reasonable men."

I'll bet they’re all men, thought Sue.

"We all love the Twins and want to see the organization flourish. It appears you might not be the one that can make that happen. They've directed me to tell you that this team has to show a profit this year or we’ll have to call our note. You'll be receiving a registered letter tomorrow."

Sue's attorney's had warned her a year ago that this was a possibility. She knew no other creditor would takes Norwest’s place.

After she showed the banker to the door, Sue pulled out a picture of Red and her when she was eight. They were at the ballpark sharing a hotdog. Both of them had scorecards in their hands. Sue couldn't remember a time when she didn't keep a scorecard. She looked at the back of the picture for the date and went to her files. There it was... her scorecard from that day. The Twins had won that day and the attendance was 43,032.

Sue closed the blinds on the windows to the stadium. The tears came easily as she realized losing the Twins meant losing the last of her family.

She had to have a miracle to avoid that horrible fate.

**

"I can't do it. I've tried. I can't play my position with all this girly stuff on under my uniform. I can't make the pivot. I can't even throw right. It just won't work."

Andy was upset. Until today, he had gone along with the whole thing. It was no biggie. Yesterday, Pedro Cardenas came up lame after the game. Andy was going to have to actually play.

The clothes he had to wear were going to hurt his play. He couldn't allow that. It was ten minutes before the ump would shout, "Play Ball." The Skipper needed to make a choice.

"You're right Andy. Maybe we've all carried this too far… this is voodoo junk. You've done everything we've the right to ask. Go get out of that stuff and take the field."

Andy sprinted to the locker room.

Three hours later, the Twins packed their bags for a road trip having lost 5-1.

There was no denying it now. Andy was their talisman. It was up to Andy to do the right thing.

Andy took more makeup on the trip. He wouldn't be called on to play. By the time he came back home he had added blush, eyeshadow, powder, eyeliner, mascara, clear nail polish and a camisole. In his newly pierced ears were gold studs.

**

"Congratulations Skipper!"

It wasn't often Sue asked the coach to come to her office. The team had made up the ground on Cleveland. They were now in first place and on a pace to win 85 games. The fans were buying tickets in bunches for the rest of the home games.

The marketing people were predicting an average of over 40,000 fans a game for the next seven games at home.

 

IF... the Twins could keep winning they could close out the year with a very nice profit.

There was a problem. Sue had asked the Skipper to come to her office for a 10:00 A.M. meeting. The game that evening would start at 7:05.

"Skip, you know I don't like to meddle."

"And, you know how much I greatly appreciate that."

"Skip I'm starting to get calls. The cameras at last week's games spent a lot of time focused on Blake in the dugout. Today I got a call from Sol Lunggal. He wants to know if Blake needs psychiatric help."

"He what?"

"He said he's noticed quite a change in Blake since the all-star break. He thinks Blake is acting very strange."

"Strange?"

"Come one Skipper, we've known each other a long time. I don't want to pull rank. However, this is one of those rare times. If you don't tell me what's going on with Blake, I'm going to have the GM trade him."

"You can't do that! If you trade Blake we'll lose half of the rest of our games ...or more."

"Coach, you haven't even played him for over a month, what the heck are you talking about...?"

"Heck, you know how these guys are. My outfielders won’t take the field without touching second base, every batter has a ritual they go through before they step in the box, one of my guys eats chicken and nothing else before every game…"

"I’m aware superstition is a big part of baseball, so what does that have to do with Andy."

"It goes wayyy beyond simple superstition. We have eight guys on our active roster from either the Dominican Republic or Puerto Rico. Those guys believe in voodoo. They do all sorts of things with red peppers, chicken bones, horseshoes, human hair, snakeskins… it’s wild. They believe Andy’s got powerful hoodoo and the other players are just as convinced."

"Tell me specifically about Andy."

"It all started several weeks ago when the players got it in their heads that they could win if Andy became increasingly more feminine each day."

"That’s crazy!"

"Crazy or not, that’s what the team thinks and that’s what has this ball club turned around."

"What exactly has Andy had to do?"

"It started with him shaving his legs for taping."

"Well that isn’t really womanish… lot’s of guys shave to avoid the pain of ripping the tape off their hairy legs."

"Right… but not a lot of ballplayers wear perfume."

"Perfume… why on earth would Andy wear perfume? No wonder Sol thinks he needs help."

"Nah he’s okay. He started wearing perfume to help Steve break out of his slump. He’s Steve’s hero because he’s wearing that perfume."

"Steve’s hit .368 for the month of August. I’d say it worked." Sue was beginning to understand what was going on. "What else is he doing?"

"Some of the guys brought in women’s underwear for him to put on… and he’s been using lipstick and other stuff on his face."

"I thought he was, from what I saw on television..."

"We owe a lot to Andy. No one but Andy could do this for us."

"Why do you say that Skipper?"

"Everyone likes him… hell they all love him. If they didn’t this would have killed him by now. Instead of giving him craaa..er.. a.. guff, they’re all helping him get more female."

"What do you mean?"

"They got together, Andy and the guys, and they decided the best way to help Andy was to treat him like a woman?"

"How are they doing that?"

"Some of the guys are holding doors for him. Other times they carry his bags when we’re on trips. They even help him with how to hold his hands and such…?"

"Hands and such???"

"They tell him when he isn’t holding his arms right, when his walk is wrong, if he uses words that girls don’t use… things like that."

"How often do they do that?"

"All the time… when we’re on the road they’re at him 24 hours a day. Steve got Andy a pair of high heels to wear in the clubhouse. He’s been in those things five or six hours a day for weeks now."

"Why on earth would Andy want to do all this?"

"He’s helping us win. He and the boys think its easier for everyone if Andy stays in the role as much as possible."

"But haven’t you lost a few games?"

"Sure and that’s only made it tougher on Andy. Every time we lose, he figures he didn’t make enough effort to become more like a girl between that game and the previous game. He just gets more determined and tries harder."

"And how has Andy reacted personally to all this?"

"I think he’s doing okay… it just seems the more they treat him like a girl, the more he seems to be a girl. It’s feeding on itself."

"There isn’t anything funny going on… I mean sexually deviant… is there?"

"No. Not even George is hitting on him." The way the Skipper said George indicated that George was out of the closet and that the Skipper and Sue had talked of George on other occasions.

"Is Andy having any problems with this?"

"No. Andy is still Andy. He’s different, but the really likable parts of him are still there. The only thing is, he wants to play baseball. He knows he can’t really play his best with the undergarments restricting his play, so I haven’t tried to put him on the field. He’d like to be helping us on the field… be part of the winning effort by playing, as well as by being our lucky charm. If he wasn’t missing a chance to play here and there, I think he would actually be enjoying this whole thing."

"Enjoy it."

"You know Andy… smiling, congratulating the guys… talking a mile a minute… hands flying all over the place … he’s one in a million. Yep, I’m sure this whole thing would be a lark if he wasn’t missing playing."

"Do you think his ability to bring good fortune will run out? Can we actually go the distance this year?"

"It really doesn't matter. We're fresh out of ideas to make Andy more feminine. We've run this winning streak out about as far as it can go. Even if you don't trade him, were jinxed."

"Trade him??? Why makes you think I want to trade him?"

"Isn’t that why you called this meeting? Aren’t you worried about the bad press?"

"I wouldn't dream of trading him after all he's done for the team. I can handle the press. And, I can help you with new ideas how to keep this going. Do me a favor. Twenty minutes before the game tonight send him up on the private elevator." There was a small elevator running from the locker room to the executive suite. Back in Red's day, he would go down to encourage the boys once or twice a week. Sue rightly suspected a woman owner wouldn't be as welcome as a man while the men were taking their showers. "Make sure he does everything he did before the last game, with the lingerie, makeup and cologne."

"One more thing Skip." Sue had things to do and wanted to end the meeting. "If all this hadn’t happened were we going to renew Andy’s contract at the end of this season?"

"Not a chance. He’s been a great player, but we can no longer afford to have him in the line up. We need someone that can hit an occasional triple or home run. Not to be too ironic, but he’s a Punch and Judy hitter."

After the Skipper left, Sue worried about Andy’s well being. It was clear that Andy was making a huge sacrifice for the team. Sue’s heart went out to him wondering what damage this was doing to him as a person.

There was something else. She was strangely excited by what he was doing. He just might be the one to solve all of her problems --- on and off the field.

Sue went to her file of scorecards. She pulled the scorecard from the first time she saw Andy play in the Appalachian League. On the back of the card she had written, Andy Blake - CUTE – if this guy is half as nice as he seems he will make someone a great husband

Fast action, based on years of observation and accurate records was the Robinson hallmark. If the team needed a left-handed long reliever, Sue had a file that would give her a dozen options. She could move on transactions while others were still compiling data.

Sue needed a family. She made a decision that Andy was the ideal candidate. She had a few things to check out… if all looked good she’d make her move that evening. Fast action. Just like her dad.

Sue punched the buttons on her desk phone.

"Center for Sexual Health, how can I direct your call?"

"Could I please speak to Dr. Jacobson. This is Sue Robinson of the Twins." Stan Jacobson had served on several boards and charity drives with Sue. They had been friendly over the years. Stan was about her father’s age. He had made quite a name for himself at the University of Minnesota in the field of Human Sexuality.

"Hi Sue, to what do I owe this unexpected pleasure? Is it already time to start work on the St. Paul Winter Carnival?"

"No, this is a personal call. If you wouldn’t mind I’d like some information from you about a friend of mine."

"Sue, as much as I like you, I can’t do much over the phone. I’m bound by some rather tight ethical restraints."

"I understand. I only want you to speak in generalities. I’m just trying to gather information."

"Okay… Since you’ve come to me, I’ll assume your friend has a perceived gender disorder. I’ll do this over the phone on the condition that you agree to have your friend come in to see me as soon as possible."

"Agreed." No matter how this would play out, the team owed Andy the help he needed.

"Go ahead Sue. What’s the problem?"

"Bluntly, I have this male friend who recently has started to wear women’s clothes."

"That sounds like my area of expertise alright. How old is this friend."

"He’s 29."

"Is he married or has he been married?"

"No."

"How often does he wear women’s things"

"Every day."

"Does he restrict his wearing of clothes to his home or does he venture outside the house?"

"I don’t know if he does it at home. I’m only aware of when he’s at work. He’s been dressing in women’s things at work every day for several weeks. He started wearing them sort of by accident. But, he seems to actually enjoy it."

"Is he feminine in any other way?"

"Yes, he uses cosmetics and has adopted female speech patterns. He also walks and postures like a woman."

"As you might know Sue, we are the national headquarters of the Harry Benjamin International Gender Dysphoria Association. We work with hundreds of professionals in the fields of psychiatry, endocrinology, surgery, law, psychology, sociology and counseling. Our goal is to increase the understanding of those suffering from a gender identity disorder and to help them with treatment."

"If my friend is found to have a gender disorder, is there a cure?"

"We normally don’t talk in terms of a cure. If your friend is a transvestite, we try to help him fit his desires into a productive lifestyle. We might get him into counseling or we could help him find other people like himself to ease his guilt."

"Guilt?"

"Most transvestites have conflicted feelings about their lifestyle. They are saddled with the impression that they are bad people."

"And how to you treat their disorder?"

"Common issues for cross-dressers are shame, secrecy, compulsivity, fear of discovery… like I said, things that cause guilt. If they’re married or have a significant other, and the partner knows of their cross-dressing, the partners might suffer from shock, confusion, self-blame, anger, betrayal and fear of discovery. That’s the biggest fear of the spouse; that someone… a relative, employer, neighbor… will find out about the cross-dressing and create a problem. Most of the spouses find it hard to understand the level of the compulsive behavior. They can’t understand why their husband doesn’t just quit. We try to educate and counsel both of them to achieve a common goal of peace and acceptance."

"I guess solving the husband’s problem without solving the wife’s wouldn’t do much good… go on."

"With some male transvestites we recommend cross-dressing unobtrusively with undergarments of the feminine fashion. We also advise they change their body through hair removal or by other minor cosmetic surgical procedures. With others, we help them find relief through increased grooming, wardrobe or appropriate vocal expression skills. We try to get them into support groups and provide literature to help them understand that they’re not unique."

"Why do men do this sort of thing? Are they trying to attract other men for sex."

"If I knew the answer to the first question you asked I could advance medicine overnight by a quantum leap. We really don’t know what the base cause is. Some think it’s chemical, others think it’s due to early childhood trauma, others think it’s simply a natural function or drive that occurs in certain men. Now, I’ll try to answer your second question. It is very rare that a true transvestite is attracted to men. If your friend hasn’t had homosexual tendencies in the past, there is no nexus to conclude he will in the future based on his cross-dressing. In fact, the rate of incidence of homosexuality in cross-dressers is actually lower than the rate amongst the general public."

"So you think my friend is a transvestite?"

"Whoa Sue! I’m just giving you broad-brush options. It’s possible your friend is a transsexual. The namesake of our association created that term in the 50’s to classify those who were born in one gender who firmly believe they are really the other gender."

"And, you think it is likely my friend could be a transsexual?"

"The whole field of gender identity is quite complex. We have a fairly strict standards of care protocol that we follow before we are ready to make a suggested determination such as that. Patients must try a lifestyle for at least a year before we will even attempt to decide whether or not they are a true transsexual."

"If my friend is a transsexual or a transvestite, is it possible he didn’t act on his feelings until recently?"

"There are case studies of patients that had a general feeling of unrest for most of their lives and identified it as gender disorder in their fifties. The social taboo against cross-dressing is very strong. Once the urge to cross-dress has been triggered by an incident the compulsivity comes into play. It rarely goes away… we try to mitigate damage to the person’s relationships through responsible behavior."

"Say there was no real reason the person couldn’t satisfy his desires to the fullest, what would be the harm."

"Nothing, which is the bases for our therapy. We aren’t trying to eradicate. We want the patient to be able to satisfy his needs without destroying his life."

"If my friend is a transsexual, will he have to have a sex change operation?"

"While a sex change is possible, it’s miles down the road. He would have to go through real life experience and a real life test living as a woman."

"If he fails that test would he have proved he’s not a transsexual and can go on with his life?"

"Not really. There’s really is no way to ‘fail’ the test. It’s more probable he might decide that his true gender doesn’t fit into his social, economic or psychological support. If that is the case, he might decide to forego any further treatment."

"So if his support is strong enough anything is possible?"

"Very much so."

"Should he decide to go on with a sex change, what sort of treatment are we talking about?"

"The first step could be beard removal through a variety of ways. Then he could opt for hormone therapy, if approved by a qualified practitioner."

"Would he develop breasts?"

"That’s a primary goal for many transsexuals and some transvestites. The use of hormones would also result in the migration of fat deposits to more feminine positions, decreased upper body strength, softening of the skin, decrease in body hair, slowing of scalp hair loss, decreased fertility or testicular size and sometime, but not always, less firm erections."

"What if he starts these chemical treatments and decides it isn’t for him?"

"Most are reversible. The changes are usually not drastic and may not even be evident for about two years of continuous hormone treatment. He’s not going to change into Morgana overnight." Dr. Jacobson was referring to the overly endowed kissing bandit who had made herself infamous by rushing onto professional baseball diamonds and kissing players.

"What about actual sex change?"

"We don’t even consider further steps until the patient has had at least 12 months of hormone therapy and 12 months of real life experience. If we deem the person ready, we would recommend breast surgery first. That would be followed by other plastic surgery, as needed, to affect a feminine presentation. The last step would be genital reconstruction. The standards of care are rapidly changing, but I’ve given you the quick and dirty on gender disorders."

"This has been most helpful Stan. Could you email a list of books and other material I can read?"

"I’d be glad to."

"Stan, one more question."

"Yes."

"In your opinion, do transvestites or transsexuals make good husbands?"

"Sue, I do entire weeklong seminars on that very topic. I’ve served as a professional witness in dozens of custody battles. I’m a firm believer that gender dysphoria is a non-factor in determining the ability to be a good parent. As far as what it takes to be a good mate… that’s entirely up to the two people involved. I’ve seen some wonderful marriages dissolve over this issue. I’ve also seen other marriages become much stronger. With all the social and economic pressures in the world, I would say it ain’t easy for any marriage nowadays. Does your friend show signs of anxiety depression, substance abuse or other psychological disorders?"

"No."

Then he would have a good chance of being a fine husband if he can make enough to support his wife. Society is pretty rough on cross-dressers. They don’t always get to select the best jobs."

"Under what circumstances do you recommend marriage for your patients?"

"If they have the money thing solved. If they don’t expect problems from their immediate families. But the key is for the partners to have full communication before the ceremony. If both partners are open and honest about their feelings, most of the causes of the disorders we discussed are non-issues. In my opinion Sue, marriages that are honest and open amongst transgendered are very, very good relationships that last."

They chatted for a few minutes about friends and upcoming meetings before ending their conversation. Just before they hung up, Stan suggested a few websites to Sue. In particular, he recommended a site hosted by Dr. Rebecca Auge called Gender & Life’s Paths.

Sue went online and spent at least two hours going from place to place. She was amazed at the information available. Sue made a list of things she needed to do. She made several calls before leaving the Dome to buy a few very necessary items.

**

"You wanted to see me Mrs. Robinson." Andy had been surprised when the Skipper sent him up to the executive office. In the five years he had been a Twin, he had never been there. Like every other ballplayer on the Twins, he thought Mrs. Robinson was a fox. She was like a younger version of her namesake, Anne Bancroft in The Graduate. Dark-haired and earthy, she exuded sex. Everyone respected her for her fairness. She was considered totally unattainable. She had spent a number of years in fashionable Eastern schools gaining the sophistication her father thought would help her in life. As the average ballplayer thought sophistication was spelled with two f’s, they were in awe of her.

"Yes Mr. Blake, I do want to talk to you."

"I have to get back down to the field soon. The game’s about to start."

"This won't take long." Sue was startled by the amount of makeup he was using. It was no wonder people were talking. She could readily see his bra straps and unnatural panty lines.

"Mr. Blake. I want you to know I want the Twins to win as badly as you do."

From what he knew of her, there was no doubt she was telling the truth.

"I had to threaten the Skipper with trading you to get him to tell me what’s been going on."

Andy turned a shade of red that Sue found very becoming. He shifted his eyes to stare at the floor to avoid confrontation. Sue realized that no ballplayer had taught him that very feminine action.

"Can I call you Andy?"

"Sure Mrs. Robinson."

Sue didn't offer him the reciprocal courtesy. Something Andy didn't expect or seek.

"Andy you're doing a fine thing for the team. Becoming more and more like a lady everyday must be very hard."

"Yes, it’s becoming almost impossible."

Sue marveled at what her team thought was the ‘ultimate’ in feminine appearance. Although Andy had become quite feminine in demeanor, she wouldn’t have trouble raising the bar on his clothing. He was also in for a total makeover.

"The Skipper says you’ve run up against a wall and I want to help. I think you men have done an exceptional job to this point. It's time for someone to step in that has had the experience needed. Come over here Andy. I think we can do something simple for tonight's game. After the game tonight, take your shower and come back to see me. Bring me your undergarments and the cosmetics. We'll see what we can do."

"Bring my undergarments and cosmetics?"

"Yes, bring me your bra and the other girly things you’re wearing right now. I need to see where we're starting. You need to keep becoming more and more girlish each day for the Twins to win and I’m certain we can do that." Andy had blushed again and Sue noticed for the first time that he was actually pretty. Not as pretty as he could be, given his facial structure and skin quality. As he stood before her, Andy was very, very pretty for a professional ballplayer.

"I also want to see what you're using for cosmetics. If you're still using the cosmetics you bought at the 7 - 11, you need to upgrade the quality."

How did she know where he bought his lipstick? Andy had no idea she had been in that store that evening. He was caught off-guard and wondered if Sue had the ability to read his mind.

"I need to ask you some very personal questions and must have your honest answers." Andy had no idea how much was riding on his ability to openly communicate with her. However, it was disrespectful not to be honest at all times. Andy could not be disrespectful, no matter the consequences.

"Absolutely, Mrs. Robinson. Whatever you want to know is fine with me."

"Great!" Sue meant that from the bottom of her heart. "Okay. Now this is important …so take your time. How do you feel about the whole thing, the female clothing, the cosmetics, adopting female mannerisms… I need to know your innermost thoughts. I need to know exactly where you are. I can’t help you, or the Twins, if I don’t know exactly how you feel. I need to know how you feel so I will know where you and I stand as individuals."

Andy was perceptive enough to know that she was talking about more than baseball. He had always been good at reading non-verbal communication.

"My feelings?"

"Yes. Your personal feelings. I assume you’re delighted about how the team is doing."

"It’s great. Better than I ever dreamed it would be. I do wish I could of play more. You see… I’m aware my time to play professional ball is really almost over. I wanted my last year to be quite special. It has been special, but, I would have liked to go out on top as a player." Andy spoke in emotional tones.

"I understand Andy, but what I want to know is how all this femininity is going down with you? Are you embarrassed by it? Can you stand doing it for the rest of the year."

"Stand it, Mrs. Robinson?"

"Yes, Andy, are you able to dress and act like a woman for the rest of the season without too much emotional damage?"

"Mrs. Robinson, I want to honest with you and even though this might mean the end of my career… here and now…. I will be honest with you….. Mrs. Robinson my teammates have been so supportive… so wonderful… they’ve been so great. After the first few days I realized there was absolutely nothing to be embarrassed about. I’m not ashamed that I’ve done what I had to, to help my team. Even if people outside of the clubhouse were to find out now, I would hold my head up high as someone who saw my job and did it."

"You should be proud Andy." Sue wondered if Andy had any idea how girly he sounded, using all those intensifiers and changing his pitch and inflection to express his thoughts.

"But that’s not the whole story."

"It’s not? What else is there?"

"Mrs. Robinson, you’re right to be concerned and I’ve been losing a lot of sleep. I’ve lost ten pounds!"

"I know Andy, I’ve seen your weight loss in the weekly reports."

"I’m very agitated. I’m not ashamed that I’ve been acting like a woman… that’s not it at all."

"It isn’t? What is it Andy? You can tell me." She would help him, encourage him to talk, but not too much. Sue didn’t want to lead him. She wanted to know exactly how he felt.

"Mrs. Robinson, I think you are a wonderful person, but I won’t hate you if after I tell you what I have to tell you, you fire me. I know I probably deserve to be fired for how I feel."

"And what is that Andy. How do you feel?"

"For the first time in my life I feel happy. I feel real joy in getting out of bed each day. I’ve found something that makes me content and I’ve had acceptance from those around me."

"You mean all the winning is making you happy."

"No Mrs. Robinson… it’s not the winning. I like being a girl. I like the clothing, the makeup, the perfume…" Andy had to get it out. He wasn’t trying to gauge her reaction to couch his words. He was speaking from the heart. "When this all started I was confused, but as time went on I looked forward to finding ways to perfecting my feminine side. No. That’s not it. I don’t have a feminine side. Sometimes I think I’m all feminine. Sometimes I think I was born in the wrong body. Sometimes I don’t know what to think. Sometimes the thought of wearing a complete set of women’s things actually sexually arouses me, other times when I try to imagine myself at some point in the future, after baseball is done, I see myself as an elderly lady. At one point this was tearing me up, then I realized I had found a new and exciting way to see life. Does any of this make sense to you?"

"Oh yes Andy, perfect sense. I think you’re wonderful Andy and I think we can find a way for you to be very, very happy."

"I’m sooo relieved you’re not laughing at me!" sighed Andy as his shoulders visibly relaxed.

"Laughing at you? I think the world of you Andy. What you’ve said just now has convinced me you are the nicest person I’ve ever met. And, I intend to make sure you know I mean that."

"But, first let’s take care of the Twins. Andy, if your being feminine is the only thing standing between us and winning the pennant, I think this is going to be the year for the Twins. Over the rest of the season you’re going to have my undivided attention. By the end of the season you’ll be stunning. Now let’s take care of making you more feminine for tonight. Then we’ll get together after the game and continue our discussion."

Sue grabbed a brush from her desk and went to work on his hair. It was quite long. She had a curling iron in her private bathroom, which she used to turn under the ends. She also trimmed his 'bangs'. She noted his hair was honey blonde already. It would look great with a highlight or two.

As he was leaving the office, she prayed the game wouldn’t go into extra innings. She ached to be with him. She couldn’t wait to find out how he felt about her. Andy paused at the door and instinctively touched his hair, fluffing the ends. Sue smiled knowingly as she again identified a behavior that was neither learned or affected.

As Andy rode down in the elevator, he thought how lucky he was to be able to help the team. Surprisingly his main thoughts were about Sue. He hadn't thought about a woman like this in the past. He had seen girls as a distraction from playing ball.

During the game Andy couldn’t concentrate. One inning he even forgot how many outs there were. Luckily he wasn't playing. His responsibility was to chart the opposing team's pitching and keep away the jinx from the other team. He did manage to complete both tasks.

One hour after the Twins won yet another close game, Andy was knocking on his equivalent of heaven's door.

"Come in Andy."

"We won Mrs. Robinson."

"Thanks in no small part to you."

"This is the most excited I've been in quite some time." The bulge in his pants testified he was telling the truth. Sue was pleased that he was excited to be with her.

"Andy, I want your full cooperation tonight. I don't want to have to tell you twice to do something... just so you can impress on me what a man you are."

"No ma'am!" He was a little surprised by her tone.

"Good. Then take off your clothes." Sue wanted to get through the first part of the night without having Andy developing any shame. She was in no way going to force him through intimidation to do something he didn’t want to do. She thought if he didn’t appear to have full choice in what they were doing it would be easier for him.

"Mrs. Robinson, are you trying to seduce me?" asked Andy a bit playfully (and with some hope!).

"Andy, that's just the type of nonsense we don't have time for... we want to win and you need my help." As stern as she was trying to be she was smiling broadly as she spoke.

However, even such a light reprimand was like a lash across Andy’s back. Andy felt very foolish blurting out such a thing to someone as nice as Mrs. Robinson. He would watch what he said in the future. He blushed and hurriedly stripped to his underwear.

"Everything Andy."

In short order, Andy stood in front of her totally naked, Sue looked him over from head to toe. She was intent at the task at hand. One of the calls she had made that afternoon was to the personnel office to get Andy’s measurements. They were up-to-date as the team had verified them the previous week for a new uniform order. They also gave her his shoe size. She called the Oval Room at Dayton's Department Store and had ordered several items to be immediately delivered to her office. Between what she had bought and the clothes she kept in the office for herself (which she now realized would mostly fit him) she had everything she needed.

Everything, that is, if you added in the special items she had purchased that afternoon when she walked the four blocks from the Dome to The House of Sex. What she had read online had been VERY helpful.

"Show me what you've been wearing under your uniform."

Andy pulled out a bag that contained his bra, camisole, panties and pantyhose. They were old, discolored and in not very attractive. They didn't do Andy justice. Sue tossed them in the garbage.

"I think we'll start all over from the skin out."

"I see you've got a little rash. The razor you’ve been shaving with is too rough for your sensitive skin. From now on you're going to use a women’s razor and my special skin cream." Sue showed Andy a small bottle. She opened the lid and held the cream below his nose.

"Isn't that nice?" The fragrance was like nothing Andy had smelled before. It was French, very expensive and very intoxicating.

Andy's penis was turgid. He was very embarrassed to feel it throbbing. He didn't look down, hoping Sue would somehow miss seeing his physical attraction for her.

Sue wasn't missing a thing. She had only slept with one man in her life. Andy was very well endowed as far as she was concerned. Her concern was all that mattered to Andy. At this point in the evening, Sue was content to let Andy think she wasn't interested. But she was. Sue was very pleased. Even though Andy's hands were small and delicate for a man... his penis was not.

"Why don’t you try some of that body lotion?"

Andy spread the body lotion over his arms, legs and torso. He noticed right away his skin felt softer.

"Let's see of some of my lingerie will work." Sue could have easily ordered all new things for Andy. She wanted him to put on her panties, her bra and her stockings. Andy hurriedly reached for the panties, wanting to cover himself... but Sue pulled them out of his reach.

"Lie down on the couch Andy."

Andy didn't risk offending her again.

Sue reached into another shopping bag and pulled out a small aerosol can. She sprayed his rock hard penis. It was a mild anesthetic that would wear off in about two hours.

"Lie back and close your eyes."

Ever the team player, Andy did exactly as he was told. He didn't have a clue what she was doing while she attached the artificial vagina. To put the vagina in place, Sue first pulled his penis through a special sheath. Once everything was positioned, she attached the appliance to his body using surgical glue.

"Keep your eyes closed. This will take about ten minutes."

Andy gave her his confidence. He saw her as his defender. She was someone who would help him when, and if, things got rough. She measured and carefully glued two high-quality, artificial breasts to his chest. Sue had an eye for skin tones and had done a perfect job shopping. It was impossible to see where the ersatz stopped and the real started.

"Sit up and open your eyes."

Andy looked down at his chest and crotch. He gasped. The past few weeks had been hard to assimilate, but this was too much. He looked at Sue and much to his surprise began to cry.

As the tears flowed, Sue took him in her arms and gently rubbed his back.

"That's okay. Let it all come out, Sweety."

Andy had no idea how much he had been changed over the past several weeks.

He realized he was no longer able to play baseball at the major league level. The primary focus of his life was gone. Everything about his life was changing.

He cried because when he looked down and saw his protruding top and missing penis... he loved what he saw.

He cried because Mrs. Robinson didn’t seem to think he was a freak.

His shed tears of relief. He had run the good race. He was everything his father and mother could’ve expected of him as a ballplayer. He knew... without a doubt… his future had been opened to him as his past was being closed.

For years Andy had reached out to his dad, in times of stress. Now, he had no one. Over the past few weeks, he had wanted to seek physical contact and support from someone, preferably a woman… perhaps Mrs. Robinson was the one?

Sue had started the day saving her team. Throughout the day her focus had changed from the family she once had to the family she could possibly have in the future. Andy had ignited a need in Sue to create a home for the two of them. She wanted to tend to Andy.

Sue softly kissed Andy. Andy passively returned the kiss seeking answers in Sue's face. He was totally vulnerable.

"Let's go on." whispered Sue. Without either of them saying another word they both knew exactly where they were going. They would work on the ‘details’ of their relationship as needed.

Gently she helped Andy into the bra and panty set she had worn not so long ago when she had first seduced her late husband. The fabric was unlike anything Andy had ever seen or felt. Sue wanted to close the circle of life within her family.

Sue brought out a corset for Andy to give him a waist. The corset was new. It also was specially built, with padding where Andy would need it to fill out his clothing.

Andy was able to pull on the stockings without her help. He fumbled with the tabs running down from the corset. Sue helped him, thinking how precious he was when he was confused.

Sue floated a gossamer silk slip down around Andy. Andy shuddered with pleasure.

She was nurturing his true self and he was deeply indebted to her. Yet, he felt no obligation other than the love he was very willing to give.

Working diligently, Sue attached long acrylic fingernails to his fingers and covered them with a lovely dusty rose lacquer that enhanced the tan a ballplayer carries through the summer. "This color looks great on you!"

The only opinion of how he looked that mattered was hers. He was totally open to her suggestions. She had his best interests in mind. He blushed deeply when he read the name on the bottle… Romantic Mauve.

She gently held his chin in her hand as she plucked his eyebrows to a shape that was much more pleasing to her.

The cosmetics Sue used were of the best quality. Andy was amazed how much different his face felt. Even though Sue had applied full evening make up, he could hardly feel a thing.

The dress for Andy was simple, timeless and elegant. It was high fashions’ answer to the little black dress. The Oval room doesn’t attach price tags. If it had a price tag, it would have said $1,410. Such is the going rate for the perfect LBD. It was crafted of smooth-woven stretch virgin wool. It featured a wrap style with an inside tie and hidden snap closure.

It had slim raglan sleeves. Andy didn’t have ‘popeye’ arms. They did have a little too much definition. Luckily Andy had avoided weights. His dad thought weightlifters lost agility. Andy always listened to his dad’s advice. (Sue made a mental note to help Andy lose what muscular definition he had.) The dress hid what some might consider too much muscle.

It fell to just below Andy’s knees. Sue meant for him to showoff his scrumptious legs. The garment’s sleek body conscious shape accented the curves his corset had produced. There were smooth darts at the bust and long princess seams in the back. It spoke of grace.

There was a black rope belt with tassels at each end. Italy could be very proud of this creation.

It fit Andy like the glove down in his locker.

Sue had chosen just the right 2 1/2 inch heels to go with the dress. They were perfect for Andy. Very glamorous, yet classic… Black suede with gleaming patent leather trim. They had a pointed toe and low cut vamp. There was a narrow strap that wound around his ankle to a silver buckle on the side. Andy’s legs looked wonderful above the stacked heels. He gracefully walked away from Sue showing a sexy sway and pivoted toward her with a confident smile.

He could see in her eyes that she liked what she saw. That pleased him greatly. He loved how he looked and felt.

Without even realizing it, Andy had started to talk in the voice he had perfected in the locker room. They chatted quietly as Sue completed the work she had started earlier on his hair. They talked about everything and nothing. There really was no need for either one to get to know the other. They knew each other better than many couples married for decades.

Sue took the studs out of Andy's ears and replaced them with diamonds. A pearl necklace and a simple gold bracelet set off his new look.

Sue reached in her desk drawer and pulled out the engagement ring she had bought that afternoon. The personnel office had his ring size on file as they were preparing for the possibility of ordering championship rings for the team. She had thought about having her own engagement ring sized for Andy. She rejected the idea as some small circles are too personal …even within the circle of life. She slipped the ring on Andy's hand. Andy was aware of the symbolism of where she placed the ring, and was overcome.

"Does this ring mean we’re engaged Mrs. Robinson?"

"It’s Sue… my love. Do you want it to mean we are engaged?" Sue waited breathlessly for his answer.

Andy waited as he thought back to advice his father gave him. He went with the pitch.

"Sue, will you do me the great honor of becoming my partner in marriage?"

"Yes Andy… Yes… I can’t wait for us to be one. We were always meant for each other."

They kissed and hugged and kissed. Sue almost regretted the anesthetic. But, she hadn’t really completed the evening’s work. Andy had not seen himself.

She repaired his face and finally allowed him to look in the mirror. Looking back at him was a beautiful young lady who could have been Jeri Ryan’s twin. The soft, sexy Jeri Ryan of Boston Public.

Andy's mind completed the paradigm shift. His focal point was now on his spouse... to be. He knew she would be his best friend... his only true friend. Not a teammate, for teammates are ephemeral, coming and going with the seasons. This friend was for life.

"Hey Babe! Let’s take a walk on the wild side. You look like Candy, darlin’. Let's go someplace and celebrate." smiled Sue. Sue handed Andy a Prada nylon and leather shoulder bag. The bag held everything Andy needed for a night on the town. Andy didn’t do a thorough search of the purse. Had he, he would have found a leather, Italian wallet with identification in the name of Annie Robinson.

Most people would have a problem getting a meal at midnight in the Rosewood Room of the Northstar Inn. Not the owner of the Twins. As they toasted each other, they laid the groundwork for their future. A future based on equality.

They spoke of the choices ahead for them. They talked frankly about what the University doctors had told Sue that afternoon. They spoke of sex change, sperm banks, hormones, self-actualization… neither had an idea exactly what would happen as far as Andy’s gender and neither cared. They knew they were going forward together. They knew Sue would make sure Andy was more and more feminine each day for the rest of the season. What else would happen was just detail.

That night, they slept together in Sue's apartment. Actually… once some things wore off and other things were taken off, very little sleeping occurred. They repeatedly sampled one of the details of their life together and found it to be exquisite.

Andy went back his apartment the next day and came away with a small box of personal items. The rest of his things he gave to Sharing and Caring Hands.

In a closed team meeting, dressed completely as Annie, Andy told his teammates he would steadily become more feminine for the rest of the season … through a World Series victory. He be around the team, but would stay out of the public eye. Andy was quietly waived and a replacement was called up from the "AA" team.

Andy never played professional baseball again. As the days and weeks went by, he realized he didn’t really miss playing. His interests were in pleasing his spouse. Baseball would just be a distraction. Whatever interest he had in baseball now was due to Sue’ interest in the team. He would support her any way he could.

Sue and the Skipper had a long talk with Sol Lunggal. Some promises for future exclusives were exchanged for a front-page feature article about the 'lost' and recently found Robinson sister. The columnist also promised on behalf of his paper that as soon as Andy/Annie Blake was ready to come out, the paper would do a sensitive feature article. Neither Annie or Sue would live under a cloud of fear.

When the article did appear, Annie was embraced by the community. All the work he had done with charities in the past had established a bond that allowed the people of the Twin Cities to open up to him with acceptance. Andy was receiving back the love he gave over all those years.

The article stated that Andy/Annie would be taking a position with the Twins as he finalized his transition. It did not speculate as to the details of the ‘transition’.

Was it luck brought on by Andy’s actions? Or, did the team actually start playing better? For the rest of the season, the hits came when they were needed. Errors occurred when they didn't hurt the team. The pitching staff gave up runs only when their offense had already scored more runs.

It was like Crash Davis said in Bill Durham, "A player on a streak has to respect the streak. You know why? Because, they don't happen very often. If you believe you're playing well because you’re getting laid or because you're not getting laid or because you're wearing women's underwear, then you are!"

Did everyone in the Twins organization buy into the superstition that had changed Andy's life? The best answer would be... to some degree. No one believed it explicitly, except maybe Sue. Sue knew it was the luckiest thing that had ever happened to her. As Andy knew Sue was the luckiest thing that ever happened to him.

We all remember the World Series of 1987. The Twins beat the Cardinals (not theYankees) in one of the most exciting series ever. The Dome was packed and noisy. Even Wally the Beerman couldn't make himself heard.

After the win, there were parades in St. Paul and Minneapolis. The two Robinson girls rode in a convertible, charming the adoring crowds.

If the throngs of fans had looked closely, they would have seen a bit of a dazed look on one of the girl's face. Her attorney had just presented her with a check for $2,000,000 representing the settlement from a lawsuit he had been handling for her. That money combined with the money she had saved in her previous employment, gave her a nest-egg that would allow her to take good care of her spouse. Seeing as how her spouse's business had shown a very healthy profit that year, that wasn't a worry... but nice things happen to nice people.

**

Late, in the summer of 1993, a young lady sat in the sparsely populated stands of brand-new Lewis and Clark Stadium in Sioux Falls, South Dakota. She was watching the Explorers play the St. Paul Saints. Over the loud speaker Whitney Houston was singing I Will Always Love You.

The young woman was starring off into space, wondering what her two little boys were doing that night. They brought the boys on most trips. But, a four year old and a two year old can really try your patience when you’re trying to assess talent. They were with a nanny.

"Julio, don't swing at every first pitch."

A gentleman in his late 40’s attired in an old, ratty jacket turned and looked at her.

"Julio, keep your foot out of the bucket!" The young lady was dressed impeccably in a red boucle jacket over a matching jewel neck sheath. She wore pearl drop earrings and black leather slingbacks with 3" heels. The air around her carried a light floral scent. In the cool of the evening, she wished her stocking weren’t quite as sheer. However, propriety has its price. She was keeping a very detailed scorecard. She was the type of lady you didn't see often in Sioux Falls and certainly not at a ballgame.

"You sound like you know a little bit about baseball, girly. Does your husband play ball?"

"I don't have a husband!"

"You don't? A pretty little thing like you should have someone to protect you."

When he leaned closer, the words We Build Rite were faintly visible on his jacket.

"Is this gentleman bothering you Annie?" The man turned around to see another woman. She was similarly dressed in a houndstooth wool suit. She was just as stunning. Smiling, she extended her hand to him. She shined with the glow of someone who was in her second month of pregnancy. Just yesterday, they had signed an agreement to sell the Twins to a Minnesota businessman in one year. They were going to concentrate on raising their children.

"Hi! I'm Sue Robinson and this is my sister, Annie. Are you enjoying the game?"

The suddenly silent, middle-aged man automatically shook her hand. Together with her ‘sister’ Annie, they were the owners of the Explorers and nationally known as the outspoken owners of the Minnesota Twins.

The End

 

 

 

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© 2002 by Jill M.I. All Rights Reserved. These documents (including, without limitation, all articles, text, images, logos, compilation design) may printed for personal use only. No portion of these documents may be stored electronically, distributed electronically, or otherwise made available without express written consent of the copyright holder.