The guys come in, loud and rowdy. They’re satisfied with the win. Most played well and have reason to celebrate. I exchange some high-fives with them before I head to the shower. The night before a road trip, things are hectic. We leave right from the stadium and fly at night. By the time we get out of here, two buses will be waiting for us, one for the team and the other for personnel. The best part is we don’t have to go through security. We have our own TSA personnel on site that checks each of us before we board the bus. Then the police escort by Boston’s finest gets us to Logan Airport.
Our chartered flight, on our custom plane, will be ready when we arrive. Each flight has the same flight crew, which makes it easy. They know what we want without asking. The flight attendants are strictly off limits; at least that is what Diamond says. He doesn’t want anyone screwing up the relationship we have with the crew. I don’t blame him and think maybe the same rule should apply for fans, although, if that rule existed none of us would ever find dates.
As soon as we land, I’m jostled awake by Kidd. I slept through the three-hour flight and feel like complete shit. My neck is stiff, my mouth is dry and my ears are plugged. I don’t even remember getting on the plane, much less deciding to take a nap.
“Now you’ll be good to hit the bar,” Kidd says. His words are muffled, but it’s the same thing every time we land someplace. I move my jaw back and forth, trying to unplug my ears, but it’s not working. He takes my head movement as a positive response and slaps me on the back. He’s ready to party and get laid.
The air is stifling when we step off the plane, but the heat is welcomed. It’s unusually warm for Tampa Bay this time of year and an early heat wave mixed with the ocean air has laid down a thick blanket of humidity. Still, the heat is a welcome reprieve from the cold of Boston. I’m cautious to hold the handrail as I descend the stairs onto the tarmac. My head is still in a fog from my impromptu nap, mix that with the heat and I’m feeling less than stellar at the moment.
Two charter buses and a U-Haul truck idle not far from the plane. The second bus is always for the players; it’s how the Renegades staff has set it up. Traveling, at least for the team, is easy. All we have to do is check our travel bag in, the same one every member uses, and get on the bus. Renegades staff does everything else for us. We’re spoiled, but we appreciate it.
I follow my other teammates as we step onto the bus. A few of the guys have their ‘usual’ seats and most of us know not to even think about sitting in them, but for the most part it’s a free for all. I like to sit in the third row, left side and next to the window.
Kidd sits down next to me and pats my leg. “You, me and a dozen single ladies.”
Sometimes his enthusiasm is overboard and other times it’s catching. I can’t help but smile. I’m game to go out and have a good time even if that just means the hotel bar. We can usually find a few girls to party with and have a good time. The only thing that sucks is that Kidd and I share a room. We’re not the only ones, but I do dream of the day when my contract says I get my own room.
The hotel is nice. A six-star resort as my mom would call it. I don’t pay attention to shit like that. I only care if the room is clean, food is hot, and the bed is comfortable. Everything else is just a luxury and makes me wonder if it’d be cheaper for teams to start buying hotels in each town they travel to. It might save them money and be able to offer lower ticket prices to fans. But what do I know? I’m only a baseball player.
By the time we’re ready to get off the bus, our room keys are being distributed. Kidd and I take ours, exit the bus and head straight to the bar. As soon as we walk in, the bartender tells us we have an hour. Kidd and I sit down and order.
“No way are we picking up chicks in an hour.” I turn, resting my elbows on the bar and look out over the patrons. There are four, not including the two of us. The other people are couples and looking very cozy with each other.