DAY DREAMS (standard:fantasy, 1097 words)
Author: JoeD	Added: Nov 03 2006	Views/Reads: 3681/4	Story vote: 0.00 (0 votes)
This man would have rather been something else than what he is.

1,087  words 

DAY  DREAMS by Joe  DeMonte 

Milton Myers moved to the edge of his chair.  It was almost over now. 
In fact, he mused, if Billy Parker could get Iverson to hit a ground 
ball, it could easily be converted into a double play and that would 
finish it. That would be all it would take, since the Cubs had by far 
the best infield in either league. Just as Parker was about to go into 
his wind-up for the next pitch, Milton's wife called out to him again. 
“Are you coming, Milton?”  her shrill voice rang out from down the 
hall.  “They'll be here any minute and I'm not calling you again.” But 
he knew she would. He did not even bother to answer her this time.  His 
eyes were fixed directly on the giant sized screen across the room.  
Milton's pulse raced a bit as Parker's pitch was met by Iverson's bat. 
The elderly Yankee shortstop hit it on one bounce to Whitfield at 
second.  He fielded it cleanly and flipped it to Collins near the bag.  
Collins leaped high, to avoid the sliding runner coming his way, then 
rifled the ball to Sandusky at first.  The lanky first-baseman snagged 
it securely in his outstretched glove.  Double play!  It was all over. 
Milton's tired eyes gleamed with a combination of admiration and envy 
as he watched the entire Chicago team swarm about their star left 
handed pitcher.  He was eventually carried off the playing field by two 
of his team mates as Milton's eyes stayed glued to the scene. This was 
Parker's third victory of the seven game series, and though a most 
convincing one, and a shutout to boot, it lacked in comparison to his 
first outing of this series.  In that one, just nine days ago, Milton 
recollected, Billy Parker, only twenty-one years of age, had become the 
youngest pitcher ever to twirl a perfect game !  He had also become 
only the second man in history to accomplish such a feat.  Don Larsen,  
Milton had recalled upon viewing the first game of this now completed 
World Series, had done it back in 1956, when Milton was just ten years 
old.  How well he remembered that event, even now, some five decades 
later.  A smile of fond reminiscence crossed his slightly wrinkled face 
as he reflected back in time when he had viewed that great game on his 
parents old Crosley television set.  Don Larsen had become his idol 
right after the final pitch has been thrown in that miraculous game.  
He had tried to pattern himself after the one time Yankee hero for 
almost a year after that. Then other baseball greats took Larsen's 
place in Milton's long list of heroes and idols when Milton converted 
from pitcher to outfielder. “Are you ever coming out of that room?” he 
heard his wife Carolyn plead again.  “Isn't that game over yet?” She 
was still down the hall, so Milton was not disturbed by her efforts, 
quite yet, to remove him from his setting. The press was interviewing 
Parker now in the Cubs' locker room, but Milton paid no attention to 
the actual words being exchanged between Parker and the media 
personnel. “They're here, Milton,”  Carolyn called out once more.  
“When are you coming?” she added in frustration. “In a minute, dear, ”  
came his reply. He flicked off the television set and donned his suit 
jacket.  He straightened his tie, then walked about the room to make 
certain everything was in order.  He had always been meticulous in his 
habits, a trait he had inherited from his father. Thoughts of baseball 
reeled about in his mind as he walked down the hallway towards his 
wife, but that was not unusual for Milton Myers. His mind was always on 
baseball, so it seemed, when he could afford the time to let his mind 
wander.  Right now he was thinking back to those sandlot days in Omaha, 
when things were different and so much better than they were now.  What 
he would have given to realize the feeling that he was sure young Billy 
Parker was feeling right now.  It had been his dream to be a major 
league baseball star, and he still fantasized about it at every 
possible opportunity.  Carolyn called it his “day dream.”  She thought 
it was “foolish”, Milton reminded himself, as he and his wife descended 
now down the long spiral staircase, but she just didn't understand, 
Milton reminded himself, as she smiled up at him. Carolyn, he pondered, 
had no conception of what such a life meant.  He could have shown her, 
had she let him pursue his dream, instead of insisting, upon their 
marriage long ago, that he get into a “more solid field”, as she had 
put it.  And so he had gone from following his dream to working for her 
father, then on to other things.  And now, at age 63,  all he had was 
his day dreams of what might have been. Lou Patterson, his old high 
school coach, had told him he could make it to the majors one day.  
Hell, he reminded himself, he had hit .390 in his senior year, and 
hadn't those two scouts from Kansas City told him to “stick with it.”  
You bet they did, he recalled, as he and Carolyn reached the bottom 
step of the stairwell. He crossed the thick carpeting and approached 
the oak paneled door.  Still another day dream flashed into his mind 
just before he opened the door.  He imagined a group of sports writers 
to be inside that room he was about to enter, and they were gathered 
there to ask questions about his success today in Chicago.  He was he, 
not some twenty-one year old named Billy Parker, who had shut out the 
Yankees today!   He could even hear the cheers and applause ringing 
loudly in his mind as they paid homage to his playing skills. A 
fleeting moment later his day dream ended as he opened the door and it 
was back to real life again, much to his dismay.  The large gathering 
of reporters rose from their chairs upon seeing him enter the room, and 
sounds of  'Hail To The Chief' blared from a speaker.  Milton walked 
the few steps to the podium, shook hands with his press secretary, then 
began to speak. “Let's begin the questions, ”  Milton stated in his 
crisp, even tone. “And let us please refrain from any mention of the 
World Series.  There are more important matters to discuss today than 
baseball.” 

-------------  THE  END  --------------


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