Book 3 Chapter 1
Chapter 1 CHRIS The smell of freshly cut grass is still on my jersey by the time I sit down in one of Cougars’ Manager Alfonso Rodriguez’s oversized chairs. His office is cold, filled with the fear of a thousand baseball players whose careers have ended before mine. The air-conditioned environment is a stark contrast from my skin, which is still hot from this afternoon’s game, and for the first time in a long ass while, I thank God for my Mediterranean heritage—the only failsafe that has kept me from burning like a breakfast sausage in the dead heat of a broiling April Arizona sun. I know now, sitting here, that no amount of thanking God will save me from Rodriguez, a man who consumes careers for a living. My eyes barely adjust to the harsh fluorescent lighting before he’s back. He
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