The Closer by Alan Mindell Read Free Book Online

neared, seeking autographs. An hour or two before the game, while players warmed up or practiced, was always the best time for that. Hoping not to keep Karen's mother waiting, he reached over the grandstand railing for pencils, pens, programs and scorecards being thrust at him, and quickly obliged.
    Once the youngsters left, he saw her standing alone in almost the exact spot her daughter had just vacated. He moved to her other side, to where he didn't have to squint into the sun to see her. She had light-colored hair and unusual sparkling hazel eyes. Though thin, her face was pretty. Her figure also seemed thin, beneath simple slacks and blouse, and a green jacket.
    "Thanks for coming to the game, Mrs. Riley," he said.
    "I really have no choice," she smiled. "Since your workout with Billy, that's all he ever talks about. He was thrilled about your trade."
    "I'm surprised he heard about it."
    "When it comes to baseball, my son doesn't miss much. Wish he paid as much attention to other things..."
    Terry grinned. Then he glanced at Billy, still sitting some ten rows away. He'd love to work out with the boy, right here, right now. But there was no way.
    "I'm afraid there's a problem," he said. "It's against league rules to invite him on the field."
    "I understand, Mr. Landers."
    "Terry," he said, flattered that, like her son, she knew his last name.
    "Lauren," she replied.
    There was a pause, and he looked back up at Billy. Then back to Lauren Riley. He couldn't tell her age. About his, he guessed.
    "I'm sorry you made a wasted trip," he said
    "It's not wasted," she smiled. "We came to see you play."
    "I'll make you a promise," he answered. "If you'll give me your phone number and address, first open day I'll come over and work out with Billy."
    She complied and wrote out the information on a piece of paper and handed it to him. After she left him, he watched her go to Billy, put an arm around him and walk with him to where Karen and Tammy sat.
    His attention was then diverted by a new bunch of kids approaching, seeking autographs.
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    The Rileys weren't Terry's only surprise that evening. Just before game time, Rick came to him in the bullpen and informed him he'd be the closer.
    "For tonight?" Terry asked.
    "For’s long as you can do the job," Rick answered. "We just put Denny on the DL."
    Rick explained that after two separate MRIs on Denny's arm and shoulder, specifically his rotator cuff, the team doctor had determined an operation was necessary. For now, they placed Denny on the 60-day disabled list, but undoubtedly he'd be inactive the rest of the season.
    "So you're it," Rick declared. "I don't think any of the younger guys are ready for the pressure."
    "You think I am?" Terry asked.
    "You're not ready by now," Rick answered. "When will you be?"
    Terry wasn't sure he liked Rick's reference to age. There was no questioning his logic, though.
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    The Rileys evidently brought Terry plenty of luck that night. Not only did Rick assign him the closer role, but he got another save, this one much easier than the one in Seattle. Though he did enter the game with the bases loaded in the top of the ninth against Kansas City, there were already two outs and he had a five run lead, 9-4.
    Not that, like in Seattle, he didn't require some good fortune. The first batter hit a sharp liner to the gap in right center, which rolled all the way to the wall. But when the batter stumbled and fell rounding second, shortstop Felix Oates took the relay from the outfield and tagged him before he was able to scramble back to the bag.
    The win was Oakland's fourth in succession.
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    Later on, well past midnight, Terry decided to leave his little bungalow for a walk because he couldn't fall asleep. So much had happened recently, and so quickly. In less than a week, he'd been traded, gone to Oakland from El Paso, gotten his first two major league saves, become reacquainted with the Rileys, and been named Oakland closer. After thirty-three