Junior YearChapter 5 Don t You Want To Share
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Junior Year - Part IIIChapter 23: Capitán Cojones free porn video
I smiled when my guys hit the lobby in their new clothes. The three amigos all looked good. We all stood out, compared to the other ballplayers. It wasn’t that the others were dressed badly; they just looked like teenage boys.
I wore the sport coat I’d gotten in Japan with the graphic on it. I also wore an Abercrombie light blue button-up shirt under the jacket and cream-colored slacks with my new oxblood-red leather tennis shoes. To finish it off I wore my Japanese designer sunglasses. I’d been warned that the press had been asking about me in Mexico, so I decided to pull out my inner model.
“Did you guys let David get his hands on you?” Allard asked when he saw us.
“He said we have to look like someone a girl will want to date,” Phil said.
“Uh ... okay,” was Allard’s witty comeback.
Other players noticed and soon had the three amigos cornered, asking them questions. Allard, Daz and Austin pulled me aside.
“How come you didn’t invite us for a makeover?” Daz asked.
I think Austin realized how that sounded and scowled for a moment, but then nodded.
“I wouldn’t want to look like I was in a boy band,” Allard worried.
That made me laugh. I had deliberately not gone too far with Phil, Roc and Yuri; I’d just tried to make them more presentable. I’d remembered how worried I’d been when my freshman-year ‘sex tutor,’ Cindy, had changed my look. Even worse was when Ford Models had let their ‘artist’ loose on me. I’d had to remind the agency that if I wore makeup at school, I would get my butt kicked. I knew exactly what they were worried about. It had taken all this time for me to be comfortable enough to wear the clothes I currently had on in public.
“Do you think they look like that?” I prodded.
“No, but I know you well enough that I could see you making me look goofy just for the fun of it,” Allard admitted.
The other two watched at me suspiciously.
“He has a point,” Daz said.
“What you’re all looking for is a cleaned-up version of yourself that attracts women and makes you look a little older,” I guessed.
“That would be perfect,” Austin said.
“You also know I live in Arkansas. I can’t be citified,” Allard said with concern.
“So, no eyeliner,” I said with a straight face.
“You have eyeliner on?” Daz asked as his eyebrows disappeared into his bangs.
“Doesn’t it make my eyes look better?” I teased.
“This was a mistake,” Austin said, backing up.
“I’m just teasing. You’re my teammates. Do you really think I would make you look foolish?”
Okay. That was probably the wrong question, but they calmed down. I told them to ask around and see who else wanted some help. I made it clear that it might cost them some money because a good haircut wasn’t cheap. It looked like most of them went to Cheap Cuts and got their Wednesday special when the barber school came in for practice.
Once everyone was downstairs, it was off to Mexico. When we got off the plane, I was happy to see Fritz and Paul in the airport debarkation area. They’d gone down a day early to prepare for everyone else’s arrival. I was glad they were there when we cleared customs and got to the section of the airport where the press could get in.
I was standing next to Coach Kingwood when we saw the paparazzi waiting.
“Let me go first and draw them off. I’ll talk to them until you text me that you have everyone on the bus, and then we’ll join you,” I planned.
I quickly found my security team around me. Poor Chuck looked a little green. He’d never experienced anything like this before. I’d dealt with it in LA, and then it was simply crazy in Japan. I soon found out that Mexico loved baseball. I was American, which made them want to hate me. I was also in movies. I found that the two conflicting feelings sort of canceled each other out. I think I won some of them over when I could do my interviews in broken Spanish.
The airport police showed up and made us move out the exit. That might have been a mistake because there was a large crowd of fans waiting outside.
“What should we do?” I asked Fritz.
We could see the team’s bus was at the far side of the pickup lane, and my teammates were getting on.
“I think it would be safer to just push through and get you on the bus,” Fritz decided.
I was happy when the police helped us navigate through the crowd so I could escape. When I was finally on board, I looked toward the back of the bus and was met with stunned silence.
“That was special,” I announced.
Phil had saved me a seat.
“That totally sucked,” Phil observed.
“It’s all part of it. This was a little out of control, and you never really get used to it, but it’s the price you have to pay,” I explained.
Thankfully, there were no crowds at the hotel. I did see Jeff, my favorite reporter, with his camera crew. I had Paul take my bags up to my room so I could talk to Jeff.
“You missed the circus at the airport.”
“No, we caught it. We just decided to stand back and film it. Do you have time for an interview?”
“Sure. I need to get used to you following me around.”
“When you say it that way, it sounds a little creepy,” Jeff said, with hooded eyes that made me wonder about him.
USA Baseball had a room for interviews in the hotel. I found a man sitting there that I didn’t recognize.
“Jonathan Stoddard, Major League Baseball dot com,” he said as he shook my hand.
“David Dawson. This is Jeff Delahey and his film crew. You mind if they record this? They’re following me around, doing a documentary.”
“Yeah, I guess. I’ve never had someone film me like this,” Jonathan admitted.
“What can I do for you?” I asked.
“I’m down here to put together a story on potential prep draftees that are here for the COPABE Pan Am ‘AAA’ Championships. My idea is to do one story on the prospects from the US and then another on the international players.”
“Why do you want to talk to me? I plan on going to college and skipping the draft.”
“As the captain of Team USA, you have a lot of potential as a draft pick. When we get closer to the draft, I’d like to do another story on just you regardless of whether you enter the draft or not,” Jonathan said.
“I’d love to,” I said with a smile.
Jeff almost blew my cover when he began to chuckle. He knew me too well. I talked to Jonathan for about twenty minutes. I did my best ‘aw, shucks’ shtick. I was truly blessed.
When Jonathan left, Jeff shook his head.
“That never gets old. How you can say all that with a straight face is beyond me.”
“Hey, I see what you’re doing. You’re trying to get me to say something bad for your little docudrama. It won’t work, Buster,” I said, shaking my fist at him with mock indignation.
“All kidding aside, are you going to be ready for Cuba? They have a great team this year,” Jeff prodded.
“Last I looked, we play Panama first. I haven’t even looked at who else is on the schedule,” I said, and then had a brilliant idea. “I think you’re selling the host country short. I heard they may be the favorites. The current international rankings are USA, Cuba and then Mexico. Mexico might be a slight favorite because they’re the home team.”
“Do you know any of the Cuban players? I understand that you practiced with some of them,” Jeff said.
“If you know the answer, why are you asking the question?” I asked.
“Because I need to have you respond on tape.”
“Yes.”
“If you’re going to be like this, I’ll interview your mom. She said she has baby pictures,” Jeff threatened.
I decided I’d better play his game for now. I debated as to whether I should talk to Mom about it. That could go one of two ways: she could give Jeff grief, or she could turn on her youngest son. I figured it was a toss-up between turning on me and her giving us both grief.
After we got settled, the coaches wanted us to loosen up and have a little fun playing baseball, so we went to the practice field. Coach Kingwood left us to our own devices, since he and the coaching staff had a meeting with USA Baseball and then another meeting with the other coaches involved in the tournament.
When he and his staff arrived at the field, the players looked like a truck had run over them. I’d had Yuri run them through sixty minutes of hell.
“What happened?” Coach Kingwood asked me.
He was in time to see a couple of them dry-heaving as they leaned against a fence.
“I won’t name names,” I said, pointing at the ones who’d started it, “but a few of them mouthed off that they were in great shape. Then someone questioned someone else’s manhood ... it devolved into taunts, so I put an end to it. I am now Capitán Cojones, and these are my soldiers,” I said, as I surveyed the devastation I’d triggered.
He looked at Coach Way.
“He thinks he’s Captain Balls.”
I chuckled because I’d played it off like I had no idea what ‘cojones’ meant. I let the team think they’d pulled one over on me. I just figured you had to have real balls to pull off that nickname.
I think Coach Kingwood liked what I’d done with the team. He seemed to have plans to use our work out on his ballclub back home where he coached. I told him that Cassidy would be here tomorrow and she could tell him how to implement it.
After my teammates were done acting like big babies, I made them play football with me. My plan was to throw for the next few weeks so I was ready when we returned for the end of two-a-days back home. I didn’t want to give Coach Hope any excuse to be mad at us for not getting ready for the season.
USA Baseball had a buffet ready for us in the hotel. In the corner of the room they’d set up an interview set where their in-house reporters could ask us various questions. The plan was to intersperse the interviews in-game when there was a lull in the game action.
Logan, Tristan and Allard pulled me aside.
“I asked around, and there’s a mall not far from here. We want to go after dinner and have you do your magic,” Tristan said.
“How many are going?” I asked.
“Everyone,” Allard said.
I was a little surprised when I could roll my eyes like a teenage girl.
“Come on, man, you promised,” Logan said, sounding worried.
“No, sorry. I just ... ah ... didn’t think you guys were seriously interested in fashion,” I admitted.
“Yuri and Roc showed us pictures of the girls you date and some of the models you’ve taken out. I mean, seriously, I would kill to go out with that Victoria’s Secret model,” Tristan said as their explanation.
Someday, if they made it to the major leagues, they very well might date a model. I mean seriously, if that goof of a pitcher could be with Kate Upton, then they surely had a chance.
“I agree. I love my girlfriend or I’d be right there with Tristan, but Molly says she wishes I dressed better sometimes,” Logan admitted.
I looked at Allard, daring him to throw M.E. under the bus. He just shrugged.
“Fine, but you have to figure out transportation. My security people told us we can’t walk anywhere after dark,” I explained.
“Coach Kingwood and the rest of the coaches are going with us, so we can use the bus,” Allard said with a big smile.
I’d been set up.
I guess I should have known that Jeff and his camera crew would load onto the bus with us. It was just a few miles to the mall, and our first stop was to get haircuts. They had five stylists available. One of them was free, so I asked if they had any books, and he went and got us a couple. It was much easier to show them what I thought would work.
I had shudders go down my spine when several wanted the Bieb’s latest hairstyle. Coach Way pulled me aside once I’d helped them all figure out what they wanted.
“How come you got a flattop and not just a buzz cut?” he asked.
“You know what’s funny? My granddad wore a flattop. I used to make fun of him, but he assured me that once I figured out how easy it was to take care of, I’d want one. I just thought he was being old-fashioned. You know how some fashions seem to come back in style? Shorter hair is back now, but with a few twists. Most younger guys are wearing it short on the sides and then doing something creative on the top. Plus, I love that it takes me no time at all after a shower.
“For someone your age, a buzz cut would just look like you’re avoiding a comb-over,” I teased.
“You must not be planning on ever playing,” he warned me.
“You’d look better in a flattop than a buzz cut. People see those and instantly think you’re trying to hide the fact you’re going bald. The other problem is a lot of guys just don’t have the head for a buzz cut. The flattop helps hide the goofy shape of their noggin,” I advised.
“I take it you’ve had a buzz cut?” Coach Way asked sardonically.
I got out my phone and showed him a Stryker picture.
“I’m going to try the flattop,” he said, after he saw my bald head.
I showed him the hair-wax stick they sold to help your flattop stand up in the front. I was lucky that my hair stood on its own. Coach Way’s hair was finer and I suspected it would just want to lay down.
When the first group was done getting their hair cut, I took them to a couple of stores and showed them what went with what. When the next group came out, I shook my head. They’d gotten their hair dyed red, white and blue. I sure hoped that washed out, because their parents were all coming tomorrow and I didn’t want to be the one they all pointed at when their sons looked like circus clowns.
It turned into a nice team-building experience as everyone seemed to have a good time. I’d helped them pick out some clothes they could wear for both interviews now and then later for dates. I did notice that half the coaching staff had gotten flattops. In this heat and humidity, it was probably a wise decision.
When we got back to the hotel, I talked Fritz, Paul and Chuck into playing poker with me and the three amigos, as I was now calling them. We kept it friendly so that Phil, Roc and Yuri could learn the game. Paul was the big winner when he took home five dollars.
Wednesday August 10I made everyone who’d played poker the night before get up and run with me. I brought my Bo staff with me out of habit. Chuck hadn’t seen me with it before and was impressed with the drills I did while running. It had made a significant difference in my forearm, wrist and hand strength.
I had set a good pace to get the blood pumping when Fritz called out.
“Don’t look back, but we’re being followed. A white van is pacing us.”
“What should we do?” Yuri asked, with a tremor in his voice.
“Allow Paul and Chuck to move to the edge of the street, and the rest of you get closer to the buildings. When we find a spot, we’ll get off the street,” Fritz said.
I made sure I was between the street on one side and Phil, Roc and Yuri on the other. I didn’t want them getting hurt. I at least could do some damage with my Bo staff, if they got close. I debated about breaking it apart so I could use the two halves as batons, but I decided I would rather have the length of the Bo staff. I was also better with a staff than I was with batons when it came to a fight.
“There’s a restaurant half a block up. Run in there,” Chuck ordered.
“Keep your pace,” Fritz warned as Yuri sped up.
He wanted us to keep together.
“Get down!” Fritz yelled.
I heard the engine of the van speed up. Right before the restaurant, there was an alleyway. Out of it, another van drove in front of us, blocking our intended path. Yuri and Roc dropped down on the sidewalk. My brother, Phil, stood frozen. I tackled him and took him to the pavement.
The side door of the van blocking us slid open and a man with a mask and a gun began to get out. Fritz, Chuck and Paul had all drawn their weapons and were facing the street as the white van had sped up and slammed on its brakes next to us.
“Gun!” I yelled.
I heard the three amigos scream out in fear. I knew I had to protect them. The van blocking our path was only six feet away, so I didn’t hesitate as I exploded off the sidewalk. I think the gunman was surprised when I used the Bo staff like a spear and drove him back into the van. His arms flailed as he tried to catch himself and the gun fell back into the van with him. I dropped down into a fighting stance and kept an eye on the driver to make sure he didn’t get out.
The van on the street suddenly took off when they saw my security was armed. It flashed past in my peripheral vision as it left. I looked into the van in front of me and my blood ran cold. There was a second person in the back who was also armed. He raised his gun and pointed it at me. The driver took his cue from his partner on the street. Just as it looked like I was going to be shot, the van lurched forward and I heard the explosion of the gun as it went off. Fortunately, he shot just as the driver punched the accelerator. The bullet went over my head, and I let out a sigh of relief as I watched the van race away.
I turned back and found Yuri and Roc hovering over Phil. I saw blood and my gut instantly tightened. ‘God, please let him be okay’ was the little prayer I thought as I rushed to see what was wrong. His knees, elbows and forehead all had road rash where he’d slid across the concrete.
“I thought you’d been shot,” I blurted.
“Something worse happened. You knocked me down,” Phil complained.
“We can talk about this later. Let’s head back to the hotel,” Fritz worried.
We picked up the pace as we ran back to the hotel. When we got back to my room, everyone seemed to collapse into themselves. I was happy to see Paul leave and come back with the first aid satchel Tami had made for my security team. I think she thought she was a trauma doctor, with all the stuff she had in that bag.
No one said anything as we all tried to process what had just happened. I was now glad I’d listened and hired security. Up until this moment, I’d thought of them more as crowd control and someone to hang out with. I shouldn’t have, because of what Trip had gone through, but that had been a terrorist attack. How often would you ever find yourself in the middle of something like that?
The realization was sinking in that someone had just tried to either kidnap me or rob us. With how they seemed to be organized, it wasn’t a simple robbery. It scared me that my friends may have gotten seriously hurt just because they were hanging around me.
I looked around at the group. Fritz had been watching me to see how I’d react. Paul was calm, but Chuck was shaken. I could tell that both Paul and Fritz had both been in situations like this before, just by how they carried themselves. Phil seemed to be okay, but Roc and Yuri were breathing hard.
“I don’t even want to be in the room when you have to call my mom and tell her what just happened,” I said to Fritz.
He gave me a pained look, but my teammates burst out laughing. It was the nervous kind of laughter people have once they realize that they just escaped death. As soon as they stopped laughing, their body language was better.
“Chuck, you stay here. Paul, you’re with me,” Fritz said.
I figured he wanted to call the police and give my dad a heads-up. I doubted Fritz had a death wish and would make the mistake of calling my mom. Once they left, I figured I had better talk to the guys.
“How are you doing?” I asked.
“What just happened?” Phil asked.
“Those men had guns,” Yuri stated.
“Are you okay?” Roc asked. “I think they were there to take you.”
“My security team was there to stop that,” I said.
“But that last man in the van shot at you. You’re not a Jedi who can use your big stick to deflect bullets,” Yuri said to remind me I’m human.
I gave him a weak smile.
“As much as I would like to claim that I’m a Jedi, I know I’m not. If he’d gotten off a clean shot, I’d have been in real trouble. I know I was lucky,” I said softly.
“How can you not be freaking out?” Roc asked.
“Dude, he’s my brother. He might have been scared, but he’d never show it,” Phil said.
If I had a hairline, my eyebrows would have disappeared into it. I could tell that Phil meant every word of what he just said. I wondered if others thought I was some kind of superhero, incapable of being afraid in the face of danger.
“All I could do was watch,” Yuri admitted. “You, on the other hand, jumped up and whacked the guy with your staff and pushed him back into the van. I was completely useless.”
“You did what you were told to do, and that helped a lot! You forget that Cassidy has trained me to defend myself. What I did was because I knew you three were safe if the rest of us did our jobs. If I had to worry about you jumping into the middle of it, I would have been terrified. What I saw was that you didn’t jump up and run. You listened to direction under extreme pressure. I know I can count on the three of you,” I said.
“I agree with David. The worst way that could have gone was if the three of you had either tried to help or had gotten separated. That’s when terrible things happen,” Chuck said, to pile on.
“Weren’t you scared when he pointed his gun at you?” Roc asked.
“That did give me pause. I’d be a fool if I said I wasn’t worried. It just happened so fast that I didn’t get a chance to be scared, but if I’d had time to think about it, I would have been. Sometimes you do what you can and if God decides your number’s up, there’s nothing you can do about it. I think he still has plans for all of us,” I said seriously.
“Now we have to win State,” Yuri said.
“Can we pray?” Roc asked.
“Absolutely,” I said, and we circled around.
I think we just needed to reassure ourselves that everything was going to be okay.
We missed morning practice as we had to deal with the police. They were impressed when Fritz was able to provide them with four different bodycam views of the incident. They were able to get the plates off the vans to help them begin their investigation.
Fritz made some phone calls to get more security. He did ask me to make a call of my own.
“Hello,” a woman answered.
“Is this Pia Giovanni?” I asked.
“Yes.”
“This is David Dawson.”
It took her a second to figure out who I was, and then it dawned on her.
“Oh, yes, Tony’s friend. How may I help you?” she asked, sounding much friendlier.
“This morning someone tried to kidnap me in Monterrey, Mexico. I’m here to play for Team USA in a baseball tournament. Later today my family and friends will be joining me, and I’m more than a little worried about their safety. I’m not sure if you can do anything...”
“Tell me what happened,” she said, suddenly sounding hard.
I could tell this woman was capable. If she was Tony’s go-between, she would have to be. I explained what happened. She wanted copies of the videos and said she would talk to Tony. She thanked me for calling and then hung up on me. I wasn’t sure what I’d just started.
After we’d dealt with the police, the team returned from practice and joined us in the sandwich shop for lunch. I let the three amigos tell the story. Fritz was pulled away to talk to officials from Team USA. Once we all had food, Coach Kingwood gave us the rundown for the rest of the day.
“Your parents will be here around one. We’ve reserved the Presidencial Ballroom and will have drinks and snacks so everyone can get to know each other.
“You have the afternoon off to do what you want. I want you all to be safe. The incident this morning shows that the unexpected can happen. The local police tell us that they’ll have a presence in the area to assure that there won’t be any repeats of this morning’s event.
“I want you all back here by five and we’ll have an early dinner. Then we’ll load onto the bus at six for our seven-thirty game. We’re kicking off the tournament, so I want you to be on your best behavior and show good sportsmanship,” Coach Kingwood said.
We all went back to eating and just being ballplayers.
At one, the team was waiting in the ballroom when our parents and friends started to show up. Of course, they had all heard about what happened this morning. Phil was soon surrounded, as he was the only one with visible injuries.
My parents and family were on the second bus to arrive. I dutifully allowed my mom and grandmother to check me out.
“What happened?” Mom demanded.
“We went running. I had Fritz, Chuck and Paul with us,” I said to assure her I hadn’t gone without security. “Fritz spotted a van following us and gave a warning. There was a second van that popped out of an alley ahead of our group to box us in. When they saw that my security was armed, they sped off. Everyone’s fine.”
I’d warned everyone not to talk about the guns the bad guys had. I’d also made them promise not to tell anyone about my role in the incident. Of course, that was a pipe dream, as Mrs. Pearson and Zoe rushed over.
“I heard you were almost shot,” Zoe blurted. Roc was a dead man.
I love my dad. He stepped in front of my mother before she ended my life. I could hear tidbits of their conversation and became worried when my mom stated I was going home―”right now!” My grandmother stepped close to me so we were shielded from my parents, and she pointed at my Grandma Felton who was holding Nate.
“You’re a genius,” I said, and gave her a big kiss on the cheek.
I rushed over.
“How’s my big boy?” I asked.
Nate reached for me, so Grandma Felton handed him to me.
“David!” Mom said right behind me.
I turned around and smiled.
“Don’t scare the little guy,” I said in triumph.
Poor Nate would be scarred for life. I found myself in the middle of the ballroom as all other conversation stopped to listen to my mother do what she does best: explain how I was a ‘stupid boy’ and how I would be on the next plane back to the States. Nate, bless his soul, howled when Mom began to get loud. Greg, the big chicken, left his son to his own fate. Angie went into mother-bear mode and rescued him.
I had finally had it.
“Okay, I get it. I’m minding my own business while taking every precaution I know about. Because some criminal decides to come after me, I’m the one that must be punished,” I barked.
“Don’t take that tone of voice with me,” she came back.
Several of my teammates flinched when she said that. I guess they’d been in similar situations. I took a deep breath and bit back about five really good comebacks. I closed my eyes and forced myself to relax. I opened them and looked her right in the eyes.
“I love you. I love that you care enough to protect me, and I know you’re trying to do what you think is best. I wouldn’t want it any other way,” I said as my chest tightened with emotion.
I think my mom could see I was being sincere and not just trying to placate her. Up to this point, our emotions had been running wild, and my taking a step back made her reconsider her position.
“If anything ever happened to you...” she began, but I wrapped her in my arms to hug her.
Dad took that moment to wrap us both in a hug, also. I think my allergies were acting up to cause my runny nose and watery eyes.
“What did he do?” I heard behind me, and I turned and found Tami, looking annoyed.
That seemed to lighten the mood as I let go of my parents and hugged Tami. I heard someone clear his throat. I didn’t care, but it made me aware that I was making a spectacle of myself in front of everyone.
I looked over Tami’s shoulder and saw she was standing with Mr. and Mrs. Mass, their daughter Harper, and, surprisingly, a smiling Tim and Wolf. What was going on?
“What are you guys doing here? I thought you were going to be at two-a-days.”
“The Mass family decided to come down and, lo and behold, all interns got an end-of-summer bonus check that was enough to cover the group airfare, food and hotel room with a little spending money kicked in,” Wolf explained.
Next, Peggy came in with the boys, followed by Tracy and Pam. Coby wanted his mom, and Little David wanted out of the stroller; I don’t think he cared who freed him. I picked him up and he giggled. That was exactly what I needed right now.
I began my circuit around the room to meet everyone’s parents with Little David as my helper. The first ones I found were Allard’s. I told them what a fantastic job he’d been doing and then got an invitation I might want to decline.
“When you get a chance, stop up at our room. We brought Allard his favorite thing to eat, jars of pickled-bologna and red-hot franks,” his dad announced.
“I’m almost afraid to ask what that is,” I said.
“It’s exactly what it sounds like. My mom canned it herself. She pickled bologna in a jar. You haven’t lived until you’ve had a fried pickled bologna sandwich,” Allard explained.
I think I let my concern about eating something like that come across my face.
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