Alec was ecstatic. Not only would he get to be the team’s batboy for a game—how many kids got to be a major league batboy?—but he was also going to Anaheim. He was sure he’d be able to spend some time with Tanner, and the stadium was right next door to Disneyland, a place he’d always dreamed of visiting and never had. He grinned at his dad, nodding; this was going to be great.
First, however, he’d have to learn how to be a batboy. Watching games on TV and at the live games he’d been to, he’d seen batboys doing their thing, but there were details he didn’t know. Learning everything he needed to know on the fly while doing the job wasn’t something he wanted to do. He wanted to do a good job of this. He wasn’t only representing himself; he was representing his dad and the team as well. He could just imagine hearing someone say at some point: ‘Yeah, that Rafferty kid was a real fuckup as a batboy. That’s nepotism for you’.
Alec knew he could meet and talk to the manager about what he’d be required to do, but the guy was an older man and not the most pleasant one, from what he’d heard. The didn’t-suffer-fools-gladly type—or most anyone else, either. It would be better to hear what he needed to know from the horse’s mouth. The horse in this case being Trevor Barnet.
He got the Barnet phone number from Mrs. Gonzalez. He’d discovered that just about any question he had, Mrs. Gonzalez had the answer. He called the number, and a woman answered.
“Mrs. Barnet? I’m Alec Rafferty.”
“Yes. What’s this about?” She didn’t sound all that friendly, so Alec tried to turn on the charm.
“I hope you can help me out. I’m filling in for Trevor as the batboy for the Sea Otters on this road trip, and I have no idea what I’m supposed to do. I was hoping you’d allow me to talk to Trevor, in person if possible. I don’t want to make a fool of myself—or of the team for that matter. Do you think this would be possible?”
“That you could look foolish acting as a batboy? I suppose you could. I don’t know you well enough to know for sure.”
Well, Alec thought, she might sound severe, but she certainly had a sense of humor. Dry, yes, but certainly alive. How best to respond to her?
He’d always found self-deprecation effective when dealing with adults. He tried that. “See?” he said in a downcast voice. “I’m already screwing up, and I haven’t even put the uniform on yet.”
“You’re okay. That was just me being funny. Trevor’s grounded. He’s only allowed out to go to the games here, but if you can come to my house, I’ll let you two talk.”
Ha, Alec thought. Worked every time. He got her address and said he’d be there as quickly as he could. He thanked her and said it had to be a short meeting as he had a plane to catch at 4:30. The team was already in L.A., having taken a redeye fight after the game yesterday. He and his dad would be flying there this afternoon, getting in just in time for the game.
Hubbard was busy, so Alec called Lyft. They had a driver there within ten minutes. It was a young man who introduced himself as Cal. He turned out to be loquacious.
“You work here? Really. That must be the best! You know the players? What do you do, help clean up the stadium? I always wondered about that, how they could clean the entire place before the next game, all the cups and hot dog wrappers, cans and French-fry paper dishes and spills and such. How can they get the place looking like new again? Or do you work in one of the concession stands? You couldn’t be pouring beer; you’re not old enough, but selling popcorn and dogs, you could do that. Hey! Could you be you be, are you one of those guys who work through the stands during the game, yelling ‘Hotdogs, get your hot dogs,’ or ‘Popcorn, pretzels, peanuts’ and like that. I always thought that would be great unless it was a day game and about 95° in the shade and there wasn’t any shade out there and carrying that heavy tray . . .”
He stopped to take a breath and realized Alec was in the back seat laughing.
“Oh,” he said. “I do that. Sorry.”
“That’s fine,” Alec said. “I work as a janitor, really. I clean the locker rooms and clubhouses after the players have trashed them. I don’t really see much of the players.”
“I’d like to hear more about it. But we’re almost there. Hey, if you need a ride much, give me a call. I’ll give you my card when we’re there, which’ll be in about a minute. I’ll give you a discount. I’d love to hear the inside dope on the Otters.”
He did give Alec his card, and Alec told him he’d need a ride home in a short time, a ride home to pack. Cal said to call him and took off. Alec went to the door and rang the bell.
Trevor Barnet turned out to be only a couple of months older than Alec, but his personality was much different. He had the self-confidence of a bull assigned the job of servicing a herd of cows. He spoke loudly and without the slightest doubt in whatever he said. He took Alec to his room and discussed his responsibilities as a batboy.
It was a good thing Alec had a good head on his shoulders. There waer lots of details involved, but Alec never interrupted Trevor.
Trevor spoke for about 20 minutes, then finally asked if Alec had any questions.
“Not really. I’ve been to quite a few games and seen what the batboys do, so I already had some idea. I knew about the stuff you do out on the field. I wasn’t as sure about what you did in the dugout. I knew about bringing players a replacement bat when they break one, collecting equipment left by players who reach base, and getting balls to the umpire; I didn’t know about little things like errands for players who ask for something. I guess mostly you don’t do much in the dugout but watch for some reason to run out onto the grass.”
“That’s about right. One thing I try hard to do is stay out of Cranshaw’s sight.”
Alec nodded. “Yeah, I’ve heard the manager’s not all that friendly. I haven’t met him yet.”
“Avoid him as much as you can and never argue with him. You’ll do fine.”
Alec thanked him, then asked about the uniform he’d have to wear, and Trevor told him they’d have it there for him. Well, they’d have his, but as the two boys were close to the same size, it wouldn’t be a problem.
Alec was ready to go. He called Cal to come get him, and then, out of curiosity and with a grin on his face, asked Trevor why he was grounded.
Trevor looked pleased to tell him, like he was proud of it. “I’ve got a girlfriend, and we’ve been doing it, you know, for a couple months now. We were in my room, naked and screwing, and Mom walked in, right when it was the absolute worst timing. I expected her to scream or something and then walk out. She didn’t. She just stood there, then yelled at me to get off her. I told her to leave, and she said, ‘Get off her now or I’ll come and drag you off!’
“Now that’s not just a little embarrassing, having to pull out with your mother watching. I still get goose bumps, thinking about it. It was awful! But what could I do? She’s bigger than I am and much more fierce. She’d have done it, too—dragged me off. When she’s mad, look out! So, I withdrew, and she just stood there and watched!
“My god, she saw me with a rubber on, looked right at it. I wasn’t completely hard any longer, what with her yelling at me and the entire situation, but it was still awful, the worst thing ever. Half hard and my mom staring! I’m pulling out, scared my condom won’t stay on, and there she is. I’m 15; I buy the small-size Trojans, but even with those it’s a little iffy that they’ll stay on, especially when I’m not rigid. I’ll never forget how that felt, her seeing that. But thinking about it now, some time later, if I force myself, I can see some humor in it, and Mom now knows I’m no little boy any longer, which is good.
“But back to when it happened. I was out of Annie and sitting on the side of the bed, covering myself with my hands—which was sorta pointless right then—and she yelled at Annie to get up. Annie was naked; I already said that. Well, so was I, and neither of us are exhibitionists, so yelling at her to get up was asking a lot.
“‘Let me cover myself,’ Annie said. She sounded upset, but not as embarrassed as I was.
“My mom is a force to be reckoned with, and her face was red, and she was glaring at Annie. She wasn’t going to back down. “‘Get up,’ she repeated. ‘Now!’”
He shuddered, remembering. “You have to know Annie. I like her because she’s different. I can come on strong with girls, being a major league batboy, not a bit shy—and, of course, being stunningly handsome.” He smirked, showing it was a joke. “Besides, most girls are at least a little intimidated by me, even the ones eyeing me and flirting. They get docile and shy when I talk to them. But Annie’s not like that; not a bit. She stands up for herself, and I like that. That’s why I’m with her. Plus, she likes sex as much as I do. That’s a really good trait in a girlfriend.
“But, anyway, Annie’s no shrinking violet. She don’t take shit from anyone. With Mom yelling at her, she got up. She didn’t cover herself at all, faced my mother standing there nude, and said, ‘What’s wrong with you, not giving either of us the privacy any normal person would? It would be common decency for you to leave us, but you? No! Why embarrass your son any more than you already have? Are you some kind of voyeur? A pervert who wants to see her son naked, maybe aroused? Wants to see me? You should be ashamed of yourself.’
“There she was, standing there bare and unashamed in front of Mom, showing no remorse. No one talks to Mom like that. I’ve seen Mom make strong men cringe. But Annie was mad, and she was letting Mom have it, and I could see Mom had no idea how to respond. How could she even deny what Annie was saying; the proof was right there? It was incredible!
“Mom was speechless. But I’d never seen her walk away from a confrontation. Annie wasn’t moving. It looked like an impasse. I stood up, still with my hands belatedly over my crotch, and said, ‘Mom, please go so we can get dressed.’
“Mom turned around and walked out, but as she was closing the door, she turned and said, ‘Young lady, get out of my house and never come here again. Ever. Trev, you’re grounded, most likely for life.’ Then she closed the door.
“So, that’s why I’m grounded. She still hasn’t said how long. I hate missing this trip. I was going to go to Disneyland.”
««« »»»
Alec asked his dad how much to pack, and Hubbard told him he wasn’t sure yet. They’d spend at least the night there after the game, but maybe his talks would take another day. He said Alec should pack for two nights. Alec still had to ask what to bring because he didn’t know what they’d do for dinner. He ended up just packing casual clothes.
There was a limo at the curb in front of their house. It took them to the airport, which wasn’t far from their Northwest Portland residence.
The limo took them to an entrance Alec had never seen before. The limo drove into a section of the airport that had small hangers, and it pulled up to one of them. A private jet was waiting outside.
“We’re taking a private jet?” Alec asked his dad.
“Life in the fast lane,” Hubbard replied, then laughed. “This is so much more convenient than flying commercial. Much faster, too.”
A man walked out of the hanger and checked Mr. Rafferty’s ID. Alec only had a school ID and his lanyard from the Sea Otters. The man looked at both, then smiled and said, “Go Otters,” to Hubbard and left them.
“TSA doesn’t check our luggage,” Hubbard told Alec. “Airport personnel do that for private jets. I fly enough that when they actually do bother checking mine, it’s only a cursory look.”
“I never knew you flew in a private plane.”
“Sometimes I do, sometimes not. But the team owner is going to L.A. on a business trip, and I bummed a ride on his plane. We’re hitchhikers today.”
“And coming home?”
“That, too, maybe. He’ll wait for us tonight after the game, or I’ll call him to say we’re staying over. He’s a good guy, very amenable. He doesn’t get involved in running the team but likes to talk to me and Gaines Henry now and then just to know what’s going on. We’re profitable. That’s his main interest. That and how much the team is appreciating in value.”
“Is it?”
“Oh yes! A lot. All sports teams are now. Only a few years ago, a team would sell for several million dollars. Today, most will cost over a billion. TV money has a lot to do with that.”
The trip to L.A. was uneventful and quick. They landed at the John Wayne Airport which served Orange County where Angel Stadium was located. They headed straight to the stadium and entered the executive entrance where the gate attendant looked at Hubbard’s ID.
“My son here is the batboy for tonight’s game,” Hubbard told the attendant. “Can you have someone take him to the locker room? It’s kind of urgent.”
“Sure thing, sir. I’ll grab someone. Enjoy the game. The private boxes are on the mezzanine level. The elevators are to your left.”
Alec was taken to the locker room where an attendant gave him his uniform. He dressed quickly and was shown the tunnel to the dugout.
At the end of the tunnel there were four steps up to the dugout. He climbed up and had to stop. A man was standing in his way.
“Where the fuck you been?” he growled.
Alec was taken back. Then his own reaction to being bullied kicked in. Alec had never been one to easily accept undeserved criticism, and he’d never put up with bullying. He was a little shy with people he didn’t know, but he always had been able to stand up for himself. Now, he’d done nothing to deserve this greeting, and he wasn’t going to merely accept it.
He knew who this was. He’d seen him often enough. His name was Elias Cranshaw, called Eli almost exclusively, and he was the manager of the Sea Otters. He had a rep for being crusty, of being in no way a hail-fellow-well-met sort of individual. He tended to run a team by intimidation.
Alec could have quailed. Instead, he looked Cranshaw in the eye and said, “I’m your batboy tonight. Trevor’s grounded. Where I’ve been is in Portland. I’ve just flown here from there. Not my fault I wasn’t here earlier. You don’t want me here, fine. I’ll just go watch the game. No skin off my ass.” He glared back at Cranshaw, holding his eyes with the same fervor as Cranshaw had as he glared at him.
Cranshaw just stared at him for a moment, then moved aside, saying, “As long as you’re here . . . don’t fuck up,” then spit some tobacco juice onto the dugout floor and walked away.
Alec was nervous. Whatever he did, he liked to do it well, and this was brand new. There was a lot going on in the dugout with all the players moving around, their nervous energy making it hard for them to stand still. The game was about to start, and Cranshaw made his walk to home plate to meet with the umpires.
An older man, in uniform but not wearing spikes, came up to Alec. “You filling in for Trevor?”
“Yeah, just tonight.”
“I heard he got in trouble just being Trevor.” He laughed, then said, “He’s a pistol, that one. I’m Brad Towers, bench coach for Eli. You got any questions or concerns, come to me rather than him. He gets a little hinky during games. Best to let him be. What’s your name?”
“I’m Alec.”
“Okay, good luck. You look nervous enough that I’d guess you’ve never done this before.”
“Trevor told me what to do. If I do something wrong, tell me. I don’t have a thin skin.”
“Yeah, I noticed your talk with Eli.” He laughed and shook his head. “No one stands up to him like that. Impressive. You’ll be fine. By the way, you’ll have an extra duty tonight. The home team batboy regularly supplies the home plate umpire with balls as they’re needed, but they have some sort of batboy snafu over there. You’ll be doing that job tonight.”
Alec found the job easier than he’d thought it would be. Taking balls to the umpire when he signaled for them was straightforward enough. Recovering dead balls from the field when they were thrown toward him or were fouled off was easy, too. He found he was enjoying being there among the players, feeling their spirit, their competitive fire. They were winning, and that probably made a big difference in the dugout. He could just imagine how they must act when they were losing and Cranshaw was prowling around, cussing everyone and everything in his vicinity.
He spotted Tanner on the corner of the bench in the other dugout. Tanner noticed him, too, and he saw him smile. Then he got a text from him, asking him to wait for him in the tunnel by the Angels’ locker room after the game. The text said that he’d be out directly; he didn’t bother to shower unless he was called on to pitch, and as he almost never was, he’d be dressed and have left the clubhouse really fast unless their manager had a lengthy team meeting.
The Otters won, 7-2, and it was a happy visitors’ locker room. Alec quickly changed, left the uniform on a bench, and headed out. He found Tanner already there waiting for him. They grinned at each other, then Alec thought, what the hell, and hugged Tanner.
The two had been texting frequently since they’d met in Portland. Tanner had begun unburdening himself of all the angst he’d felt growing up gay and a sports hero. Portland itself was quite liberal and one of the cities most accepting of gays of all U.S. cities. Yet the rest of the state wasn’t that accepting, and as Tanner expected to be drafted out of high school and didn’t want to go to college, he really didn’t want to be out yet. This, of course, left him very frustrated. At an age where sex urges were almost unmanageable, he couldn’t have a partner. It was too risky.
He poured this out to Alec in his texts because Alec was so empathetic. Alec felt the same things but wasn’t ready to out himself to anyone yet. He did like being an outlet for Tanner’s feelings, however. He felt very close to him.
Now, when they met, it seemed the obvious thing to do was to hug. Alec could feel that Tanner needed it more than he did, but he enjoyed it, too.
“How long are you going to be here?” Tanner asked after they stepped apart.
“Not long, I’m afraid. We may be flying back tonight in the owner’s private jet. Wish I could stay. I wanted to go to Disneyland tomorrow.”
“Can’t you stay? I live in a hotel, and you could stay with me. I haven’t been to Disneyland, and I always wanted to, but going alone . . . ? That wouldn’t be fun at all. It would make me feel even lonelier than I do already, being there all by myself. Can’t you stay longer? I’ll pay for your flight back. Money’s no problem.”
“Well . . .”
“Alec, you have no idea how good it is to have a friend here. I don’t have anyone. Can’t you ask your dad?”
Alec nodded. “I’ll do it. I want to spend time here, too. And—Disneyland!” He’d started to say he wanted to spend time with Tanner, too, but at the last moment decided that might sound too mushy, and he’d changed it to ‘spending time here’.
Alec phoned his dad, who was still in the stadium. Hubbard had the two of them come up to the GM’s office. When they got there, the Angels’ GM had left, and Hubbard was waiting in the hall. He said his meetings were done and they’d fly back that night. Alec pleaded his case, and Hubbard was fine with him staying an extra day but gave Alec money for the hotel and Disneyland, telling Tanner thanks for being willing to pay, but it was his responsibility. He told Alec that he’d make the plane reservation and pay for it, so that would be all taken care of, and he’d text him with the details. “Text me with the time you want the reservation,” he said.
Tanner seemed happier than even Alec was. Alec wondered if there was still some kid in him that he could never let out in his new circumstances when he was around adults all the time. It must be hard, he thought, to want to act the age he felt he was, 17 or 18 in Tanner’s case, but have to act like he was in his 20s instead.
Posted 12 March 2025