First Two Pages of Damon Matthews

[James Dour]

 

 Once again, it’s morning in America.  And bells ring out across our vast nation once more.  The citizens of our country praised Reagan for a reason.  Years earlier, he asked his team to win one for the Gipper.  And Notre Dame became epitomized in the record books.  They even put Miami in their place in ‘88; resulting in the famed Catholics vs Convicts contest.  I know what you’re thinking; how does this relate with me?  Or with baseball?  Nothing necessarily.  You’ll need to forgive me.  I sound like a chatterbox most of the time.  If there’s anything you can take away from me, know I try to be more of a listener than a talker.  Just bear with me and maybe you won’t become too bored.  I certainly don’t want you to suffer from ennui.

I know it’s early in the morning because the chimes I hear in the distance are from my local post office.  They ring out every hour of the day and night, and they are music to just about anybody’s ears.  Seven in the morning though isn’t the ideal time for me to wake up.  My dad though doesn’t seem to care as he knocks on my door. 

“Damon today’s the day.  Time to open up your eyes now.  You’re not gonna like what comes next otherwise.” 

“Leave me alone.  I’m sleeping.” 

The next thing I know he opens the door, and ice-cold water is thrust upon me. 

“DAD!  What the Hell?!” 

“There, you just showered.  Now dress yourself.” 

My bed’s soaking wet, therefore my only choice is to roll out from under the covers. 

“You slept in your boxers?” 

“My clothes made me feel too hot last night.” 

“Well, the draft is today and the TV crew is gonna be here soon.  Move it.” 

Once I made it into the shower, I realized my shampoo bottle reached its expiration date.  Luckily, another one rested next to the sink.  I quickly moved the curtains out of the way and banged my foot on the edge of the counter.  Why couldn’t I stay in bed?  After my shower, I put on my Old Spice deodorant and checked myself in the mirror to look for any pimples on my face.  Next, I pulled out my favorite suit and tie from the closet and wished for a chauffeur to appear magically and do the top button for me.  Dad sometimes came to my rescue for the occasion and even lent me his old comb to tidy up my hair too.  I preferred my comb though since it distinguished me from every other bachelor and gave me the same look as McNulty from The Wire.  After ten minutes, I finally headed down the stairs and saw the light switch in the wrong direction.  I flipped them up and heard the loudest ‘Surprise’ of my life. 

My family, neighbors, friends, and classmates certainly startled me slightly.  Today’s not my birthday, although there’s a big reason to celebrate.  I’m joining the ranks of Major League Baseball.  The draft starts in a few hours and with all the pressure growing and building inside of me, at least I can revel with everyone who means a damn. 

As far as I can remember, I loved the game of baseball going back to when I played it as a youngster.  Baseball brought passion out of me and made my life feel completely new again.  Even when I studied during school, I thought about the sport when my classmates talked about how they wanted to become doctors and astronauts, and architects.  My best friends Dan and Lindsay dreamed of being superheroes.  Dan wanted to be The Marvelous Incognito and Lindsay wanted to be the first Fairy Princess to save the universe.  Granted, they needed to grow up faster than me at some point.  In time, Dan became a chef and Lindsay became a real estate agent.  I knew Dan wanted to give customers a tasteful experience whenever they visited and Lindsay wanted to be a role model since I first met her.  And she saw nothing better to do with her life than to help families find a home at a modest price as a real estate agent.  Every time she’s received clients, Lindsay’s made sure to help with restructuring their finances to ensure their mortgage rates remained fair, honest, and reasonable.