Date: Sat, 14 Apr 2018 22:07:07 +0000
From: Douglas DD <thehakaanen@hotmail.com>
Subject: Aiden II  Chapter 23

Welcome back to another chapter in Aiden. For those of you reading Aiden as
it posts, I will be away for a while and will not be able post. Emails will
be answered, but probably late.

Please support the Nifty Archive to keep the stories coming.

CHAPTER 23
BOYS AND BASEBALL (with a girl or two)

MONDAY, MARCH 5

Aiden sat on his bench in the bus shelter waiting for the school bus to
arrive. He thought about what he and Gordy had discussed Sunday morning.

"We don't tell anybody about what happened after Kalie's party," Aiden told
his friend. "Not even Mason or Miles. Telling Mason something like that is
the same as telling everybody. Miles would keep it a secret except from
Mason, and then Mason would start blabbing."

Gordy knew he wasn't talking about what the two of them had done together
in Aiden's bed. He never talked about what they did when they messed
around. "I won't tell anybody, and you won't tell anybody, but what if
Kalie squeals?"

"I dunno, I guess I should talk to her." That was something Aiden didn't
want to do since he wasn't sure how she would react to his suggestion. She
might think he didn't trust her and get mad at him and go blabbing to
everybody.

As he boarded the bus he was tempted to not sit next to Kalie, but
Mrs. Emerson knocked that idea out of his mind. "Good morning, Aiden," the
bus driver said with her usual friendly cheer. "Your girlfriend looks like
she is in a very chipper mood today. She said her birthday party was a lot
of fun."

"Yeah, it was fun," Aiden replied, "but she's not my girlfriend."
Mrs. Emerson laughed to herself as she waited for Aiden to take a seat so
she could start the bus moving. Looking in the rearview mirror she watched
Aiden sit next to Kalie who literally beamed when the blond boy sat
down. Ah, young love, she thought.

After Aiden and Kalie exchanged greetings, the eleven-year-old girl set
Aiden's mind at ease instantly. "I'm not going to tell anybody about what
happened after they left the party. I'm not like Brittany and Autumn who
want everybody to know how cool they are about sex things."

"Gordy and I agreed that we weren't saying anything either," Aiden told
Kalie.

"Good, because if Brittany or Autumn find out anything they'd tell the
whole world."

"That's exactly what we think about Mason. He's one of our best friends,
but we know to never tell him a secret."

As much as Gordy wanted to brag about his manly exploits at lunch, he knew
that the wrong people would end up finding out. If only he could tell just
Mason and Miles and maybe Brody and they could keep a secret he would feel
better. But bragging now was going to mean trouble later and Gordy was
mature enough to know not to step into that mess. That could change when
hormones started to warp his decision making process, but for now it was
KMS time, which in his group's parlance meant Keep Mouth Shut.

Since Sammy was going to be helping with high school baseball practice
after school, Aiden and Gordy went to Gordy's house. They sat at the dining
room table doing homework and chatting.

"When you and me messed around Saturday in your bed, I think that was our
best ever," Gordy said.

"I think so, too," Aiden admitted. "I was shaking when we finished."

"Maybe we should kiss girls every time before we mess around," Gordy
giggled.

Aiden wasn't real keen on the idea. "That would be hard. We'll probably
just have to kiss each other."

"Yeah," Gordy replied wistfully. "I need more lessons anyway. And Gretchen
does, too. You kiss better than she does."

TUESDAY, MARCH 6

It was cold and rainy when Aiden boarded the school bus. He sat next to
Kalie as usual.

"Maybe later in the spring when the weather gets better you can come to my
house and go horseback riding with me," Kalie told him.

"I've never been on a horse," Aiden said.

"I can teach you how to ride. It's easy."

"Could Gordy come, too?"

Kalie hesitated and then said, "Sure. He's a friend for both of us." She
was disappointed by Aiden's request. What she really wanted wasn't to go
horseback riding but to get to be alone with Aiden and maybe get to see
what she just missed seeing after her birthday party—his penis.

Aiden had mixed feelings about visiting Kalie alone. After the mess with
Autumn, he was leery about the motives of the female sex. On the other
hand, kissing Kalie hadn't damaged anything and she had not been as pushy
about things as Autumn was. Still, it would be good to have insurance with
him, and if Kalie wanted to kiss a boy, he was sure Gordy would be willing.

During lunch Mason talked about the older boy he "did" during the
weekend. Aiden was surprised that Mason didn't spill every detail about his
session with Ian at Kalie's party, but he left out the details and just
said he had "done" an older boy.

"What does Mason mean when he says he `did' somebody?" Lenny asked Aiden.

"He means he sucked his dick," Aiden replied.

"Oh," Lenny nodded, "cool."

Miles told Aiden and Gordy later that he had told Mason to tone down his
talk about what he did with Ian or he wouldn't mess around with him for a
week.

"That's a worse threat to make to Mason than threatening to beat him up,"
Gordy laughed.

Aiden and Gordy helped Sammy and Miles' brother, John, with being equipment
managers at baseball practice. Sammy had to leave early for the meeting he
went to on Tuesdays. Aiden rode with Larry to the Bear after practice.

That night he chatted with Marty. Spring training would soon start for the
Mariners, but minor leaguers wouldn't be reporting until the end of the
month.

"Do you know who you'll be playing for?" Aiden asked his big bro and idol.

"Nope. I've been told it will probably be High A or Low A. I'm hoping it's
High A because the competition is way better and it means I might move up
faster," Marty answered.

"You mean like move up to the Majors?" Aiden asked eagerly.

"Sorry to disappoint you bro, but if I'm in High A, I may easily stay
there. But, things happen and maybe I'll go up to AA. Since I played four
years of college ball it puts me ahead of some players, and behind others
who have some minor league experience. It all gets complicated."

"I think it's real simple," Aiden told Marty matter-of-factly. "If they
don't move you all the way up to the Mariners, then they're not moving you
fast enough."

Marty laughed and said, "Oh, you don't know how much I love you bro."

"I love you, too. And I gotta go finish my math before daddy yells at me."

"Okay. Always great being with you."

They logged off and Aiden went right to work on his long division problems.

WEDNESDAY, MARCH 7

Larry's planning period was the sixth and last period of the day. Having
sixth period planning was accorded to head coaches as much as
possible. After patrolling the hall outside of his classroom between fifth
and sixth periods, he reentered his classroom to gather up the materials he
would take home after practice. As he reached his desk a call came over the
PA.

"Mr. Sanders, you have a parent who wishes to speak to you," came the voice
of the secretary.

"Tell the parent I will be right down." Larry sighed. He did not need an
interruption when he had a practice to prepare for. But, he also knew his
obligations and headed down to the main office. When he saw who was waiting
for him, he couldn't help but be surprised. He was certain that this was
not going to be a friendly visit.

"Hello, Mr. Astor. How may I help you?" Larry asked with an air of
professional friendliness.

"The best way you could help me is by resigning as the baseball coach here,
but I won't hold my breath waiting for that to happen anytime in the near
future," Ross Astor said. "But, I'm here to talk about my boy. His name is
Peter, in case you didn't know."

Larry ignored Astor's haughty attitude and invited him to take a seat in
the office's conference room. Mr. Wilson, the principal, who was busy
appearing busy, gave Larry a look that said he was ready to help if he
needed it. Larry gave a quick shake of his head. Wilson was a good
principal and it meant a lot to Larry to know that the administrator always
had his back.

After they each took a seat at a table, Larry let Ross Astor open the
conversation. "I know you don't like me or my kid," Ross said without
fanfare.

"I don't have a problem with your son, Mr. Astor," Larry replied, leaving
part of Ross's statement unanswered.

"Then why isn't he practicing with the varsity? Why is he practicing with
the klutzes on the freshman team?"

"Because he's a freshman."

"I know the rules say freshmen can play on the varsity and I know my boy is
probably the best player you got, so the only reason he's not with the
varsity is you've got it in for him because you think he bullied your
so-called son."

Larry decided that the best thing for him to do was ignore Ross Astor's
attempts to move things off topic and concentrate on the issue at hand.

"I agree that Peter is a talented athlete. I could see that during football
and basketball seasons. But, he simply does not have the experience needed
to turn out with the varsity. The biggest issue for him is that he hasn't
played summer baseball since he played on the ten-and-under travel team."
Where he'd been quite good, Larry thought. "Other players have passed
him. Mr. Astor, Peter is going to have his work cut out for him just to be
a regular starter on the freshman team."

"Of course he didn't play in the summer," Ross Astor replied sharply. "In
this fucking little burg he would have had to play for the phony Mayfield
Baseball Club run by the players and parents who get to where they're going
by kissing your ass. And eventually his coach would be your boyfriend and
finally he'd have to play for you, and everybody knows you have it in for
my son."

Larry sat stoically and let Ross Astor continue his ramble.

"I did my best to move to Kentburg where I work, but I couldn't make it
happen—this year. But, believe me, when my son becomes a big star at
Kentburg, you will be very sorry about how you treated him and me."

"I can assure you that your son is treated fairly by me and my staff,"
Larry said.

"Like I can believe that. Peter tells me different—much different." Ross
Astor was stretching the truth, but he would never admit it. "And you know
what? Peter likes beer. He often has one or two when he comes home from
practice. You know why I am telling you this?"

"Sorry, I have no clue." Larry couldn't figure out why Ross Astor was
making that confession when the team rules regarding alcohol and drug use
by athletes was very clear—total abstention. That was not only the rule
for the baseball program but also for the entire high school athletic
program.

"Because I wanted you to find out from me, not from you spying on my son."

"I assure you that I don't have spy cams hidden in the refrigerators of my
players."

Ross ignored Larry's sarcasm and kept rambling. "I want you to know I
approve of his drinking some when he wants to. Where else is a healthy
fourteen-year-old boy going to learn but at home? So, what I am saying is,
I don't want you and your outdated rules becoming your excuse for kicking
my boy out of your program, because if you do punish him for what I told
you I'll sue your faggot ass off."

"Mr. Astor I have heard enough. If you wish to say more to me, I will call
in Mr. Wilson to be a part of it. And you know how well it went for you
last time you and I met with a school principal."

"Fuck you."

"And, I also am going to let you know that I am going to talk with your son
before practice about what we just discussed."

"Fuck you one more time. You're going to cut him is what you're going to
do."

Larry got up and headed for the door. "What happens from here will be up to
Peter. Thanks for coming in and...um...enlightening me." Larry left the
room and knocked on Principal Wilson's door.

"I thought I'd see you, Larry. Come in and tell me all about it." Which
Larry proceeded to do.

Larry was in the coach's office in the locker room as the dismissal bell
rang. When he saw Peter Astor come into the locker room he asked him inside
the coach's office. Peter came in and saw Larry and Coach White, the
freshman coach. He knew he must be in deep shit, although he couldn't
figure out what he had done, at least recently.

"Have a seat, Peter." Larry gestured to one of the empty chairs in the
office.

"I didn't do nothing," Peter said with an air of adolescent indifference
that belied the butterflies that had suddenly started flopping through his
stomach.

"Nobody said that you did. Coach White and I just wanted to say a few
things to you. Some things to help clear the air between us. Your father
paid me a visit today."

"Shit." He looked quickly at the two coaches. "Sorry coaches. But I told
him to keep out of my business with you guys. I said I can handle things."

"Peter, your father means well for you and he said some things that concern
us, mostly about your unhappiness with which team you are currently
assigned to."

"Coach, I ain't stupid even if my old man is." Larry stifled a smile. "I
know why I'm here. It's because he wouldn't let me play summer ball cuz
he's got all kinds of dumbsh...of stupid ideas. I think I'm gonna be better
than most guys on the team, but I'm not better now."

Both Larry and James White were surprised by Peter's mature answer. "This
is quite a change from how you've been thinking," Larry said.

"I hated you Coach Sanders. And my dad hates you. After that Halloween when
I was drunk and bullied your son and I got in trouble with you, I hated you
more." James was surprised Larry sat calmly and didn't say anything. Larry
was tempted to interrupt, but let Peter continue. He obviously had some
things to say and Larry knew from experience that at this point the adults
go to Keep Mouth Shut mode.

"When I started high school and hung around older kids in football, they
told me I was an asswaffle and to keep my big mouth shut and watch and
listen. And they weren't nice about it." Ah, the power of peer pressure,
Larry thought, especially when it comes from the leadership of the upper
classmen. Larry could see team captain Nick McCall putting a big-mouthed
frosh in his place in an instant.

"Remember last Halloween when I waved to you and you waved to me?" Peter
asked.

"Vividly," Larry replied.

"I never thought you'd wave to me. I know it sounds stupid, but I figured
if you could give me a wave out on the street on Halloween when I was
talking to your kid that you didn't hate me and maybe I could play baseball
for you. It's not like I was ready to make you my best buddy, it's just
that I thought you might not be a total asshole like my dad said you were."
Peter turned pale when he realized what he'd just said. "Um, no offense
coach."

"None taken." Larry gave Peter a long, hard look. This was the only time,
except for maybe the Halloween wave, that he wasn't looking at a young teen
sporting a hard, adolescent look on his face, or trying to hide that
look. What he saw was a handsome boy who emitted an air of sincerity. He
saw a boy who suddenly looked terribly sexy in many different ways. But,
there was still one more thing to cover, no matter what Peter emitted.

"Your dad told me one more thing, Peter. He told me about your fondness for
a beer or two most days after practice."

Peter's pallid face turned paler. "Does this mean I'm getting kicked off
the team?"

"No, it doesn't, because I won't let your dad's misjudgment do that to
you. But it does mean you and I will have to come to an agreement."

Peter took a deep breath. "I'll do anything, coach, and I mean it."

Larry told him what his expectations were regarding the beer drinking as
well as what he was going to have to work on to move up not only on the
freshman team but in the program in the future. "You're a talented athlete,
but just being talented won't cut it, Peter. Coach White will give you a
program to work on."

"When do I start?"

"Yesterday." Peter looked at Larry quizzically. "It's a figure of speech,
Peter."

"Oh, I think I get it. It means I'm already late and I better get my ass in
gear."

"That says it perfectly."

After Peter left the office, Larry asked Coach White what he thought. "I
think he is serious about changing his ways," the freshman coach replied,
"but he is also under the powerful influence of his father, who happens to
be an..."

"...asshole," Larry concluded.

A bit over two hours later, Peter pedaled his bike home from practice. He
thought about what his coaches had told him. The idea of working hard
didn't bother him; his ego had been deflated enough by players of lesser
talent outperforming him that even he could see he needed to step up his
game. The business with the beer would be easy to circumvent. After all,
who would know? Coach Sanders had said that there was no spy camera in the
refrigerator. He liked his cold beer or two or sometimes three and
occasionally four. It helped him to relax. He decided that as long as his
dad approved he'd keep drinking his beer.

When he got home he parked his bike in the garage and hung his "stupid"
helmet on the wall. He'd been stopped twice by the police for not having
one, and his dad was angry at having to pay the fine. He had been angry at
the city for having the ordinance, not at Peter for riding without a
helmet. His dad was home and shouted to him from the living room.

"I like it better when you don't have sports and can cook dinner," his dad
said half-seriously when Peter entered the living room and said hello.

"I can quit the team and become a cook," Peter said with the same mock
seriousness as his dad.

"Go grab yourself a beer and bring me another one. I'll tell you about the
chat I had with your asshole coach. Dinner is mac and cheese and should be
ready in about twenty minutes."

When Peter opened the refrigerator, he took out two beers from the bottom
shelf and then stopped. He thought about the events he had pushed out of
his mind on his ride home. It was Coach Sanders saying, "I can't and won't
babysit you at home. If you grab a beer with your father giving you his
approval there isn't much I can do about it."

Peter remembered his coach's stare drilling a hole through his
forehead. "But, I will tell you two things. You will know in your own heart
and mind how much dedication and sacrifice you're making to being the best
you can be. You can be rigorously honest about it, or you can cut corners
and keep drinking your beers. Just remember that once you act dishonestly
and cut one corner it becomes all that much easier to cut other corners."

Peter tried staring back at the man he once hated, the man who intimidated
him, the man whom he respected but would never want to volunteer to play
for. He was the first to look away and Larry continued. "All it takes is a
slip to somebody, be it a friend or just a teammate. All it takes is me
hearing you opened a beer and drank it, and that includes hearing it from
your father. You now know where you stand with me on that topic, so saying
you have your father's permission won't cut it if there is a next time. You
abstain or you're done. You are rigorously honest about meeting
expectations or nobody on the baseball team or in the entire athletic
department will feel that they can trust you."

Sighing heavily, Peter placed one beer back into the fridge, pulled out a
soda, and took the beer to his father. "What, no beer today?" Ross asked
his son.

"I am being rigorously honest until the end of the season, and that means
not drinking beer," Peter replied.

"It sounds like your coach has brainwashed you, son."

"No, dad, you brainwashed me. You made me think I was Mr. Big Shit since I
can remember."

"Shut up."

"But guess what dad? There are some little shits who've been playing when
I've been doing crap, like not playing and being suspended and not thinking
I had to work and now they are first team and I'm not."

"I said shut up."

"Doesn't that tell you something, Dad? I mean, doesn't it?"

"Shut the fuck up. I should just send your ass to your room and tell you to
forget dinner, but I know that faggot coach of yours has you fucking
wrapped around his finger. What did he do, give you a blow job in the
coaches' office or something?"

Peter looked at his father, seeing him for what he was really like for the
first time. "I'm hungry, let's eat."

"I take it that's a yes."

"I was in the office with Coach Sanders and Coach White, so that means no."

"You know I can beat your ass. I've done it before; I can do it now."

"Last time you hit me I was thirteen and four inches shorter. I dare you to
try it again." Peter gave his father a determined look that told exactly
that: don't try it again. "Listen to me dad. I don't want to fight with
you. I want to be the best baseball player I can be, but I can't do it your
way."

"That's bullshit. It worked in football and basketball."

"One thing I've learned from the guys in high school is that when somebody
tells you that you are crap, what they're doing is calling you on your
bullshit. Well, nobody did that in football and basketball. You saw me play
basketball..."

"...you led the team in scoring," Ross Astor pointed out.

"Yeah, because I was playing on the shitty team and shot the ball all the
time because the coaches were too dumb to tell me not to. I don't think
drinking beers every night helped me either. Nobody called me on my
bullshit, Dad, and Coach Sanders and Coach White, today they called me on
my bullshit. I either do it right or forget being the best."

"Well, I'm calling you on your bullshit, son. Big time."

"Dad?"

"What the fuck do you want? You stop in the middle of this and ask, `Dad?'
What a crock of shit."

"I want you to be proud of me. But, I gotta do it the right way, like the
guys who've played at Mayfield before me. I could name the names the
coaches said, but you know who they are. And you know they won a lot of
championships. Please, Dad, let me try it my way, or the coaches'
way. Please. Let's do it without arguing and shit."

"I'll give you this season to do it your way. But that doesn't stop me from
thinking your coaches are ignorant faggots who have it in for you because
you got more talent than they ever had."

"Does that mean I get to play summer ball?"

"Fuck, you want it all don't you?"

"Yep. If I'm not the best I don't want it to be because I didn't try my
best."

Ross Astor suddenly surprised his son by wrapping his arms around him in a
bear hug. "Fuck, you're taller than I am. You say you're fourteen?"

Peter stood tall and looked down at his dad and grinned. "Yep, and I'll be
taller for the rest of your life, sukkah." What Ross Astor didn't
understand and Peter Astor did, was that he had just forfeited some of his
power to his teenage son.

That night, alone in his bedroom with his favorite rock music playing,
Peter admired his naked, five-foot-ten young teen body. It was the body of
an athlete. He flexed his bicep and grinned. He then pushed out his groin
and wrapped his left hand around his almost five-inch piece of teen boy
meat. He cupped his sagging ball sack with his right hand. His pubic and
arm hair was filling in nicely.  He wanted a blow job badly, but jerking
off was going to have to suffice.

Looking in the mirror as he went to work on his cock he thought about the
last blow job he had received. Roger Clauson had sucked his cock right here
in his own bedroom two Saturdays ago when his dad had to work an extra
day. Roger was eleven and a sixth grader. His dick was hairless, which
Peter liked, but it was almost four inches and he shot cum.

Barry Bender, another sixth grader, gave better blow jobs, but his parents
had gotten strict with him and Peter rarely saw him anymore. But Peter
realized he had changed along with Barry. While he still had a clan of
younger boys following him, with the exception of Roger and Ed Shaffer in
the fifth grade, the bullying and extortion had ended. Roger and Ed were
bullies on their own as Peter came to the realization that success as an
athlete was more important to him than bullying and extorting.

That didn't stop him from enjoying sex with younger boys, however. Roger
had become his most frequent sex partner. He and Roger often traded blow
jobs and he'd fucked the sixth grader a half-dozen times as well. Ed
Shaffer had sucked him off over President's Day break and he'd sucked Ed
and finger fucked him, but the ten-year-old acted like he wasn't having fun
in bed.

He thought again about Roger and how they'd sucked each other in his
bedroom and then sat in the living room getting drunk. Roger was so drunk
when Peter's dad got home that his dad had to arrange for Roger to spend
the night. That was when he fucked Roger for the sixth time.

As his climax approached, Peter felt his cock stiffen. He massaged his
plump young testicles—he could swear they'd gotten bigger. But he wasn't
thinking about Roger or Ed or even Barry. The person he was thinking about
as his sweet teen cum shot out and coated the mirror in front of him was
the sexy blond son of Coach Sanders. He imagined the ten-year-old boy naked
in his bedroom. The cum he was shooting on his mirror would be filling up
his little ass instead. "Ohhhhh, fuckshit," Peter moaned as he came. "I
want you so fuckin' bad Aiden Miller."

WEDNESDAY, MARCH 13

After school, Aiden walked to Gordy's house with Gordy, Miles, and
Brody. Miles and Brody had permission to stay at Gordy's for about an hour
while Aiden would be staying for dinner and later. The Mayfield Mustangs
had an away game at McQuade Island while Phil had to attend a meeting of
the county council.

Because the boys had minimal homework, they spent time playing games and
with some of Gordy's toys. One of their topics of conversation was the
upcoming birthday party at the Bear Pizza on Saturday the 24th. Miles would
be turning eleven on the seventeenth and Brody's eleventh birthday was two
weeks later on the thirty-first. Their parents got together and decided to
have a double party at the Bear and split the expense. Both sets of parents
lamented the fact they hadn't thought of doing that earlier, forgetting
that Brody didn't really become a part of his group of friends until the
previous spring.

Gordy's mom got home just before Brody and Miles had to leave. "Dinner at
quarter after five," she announced to Gordy and Aiden. "Gordy's dad should
be home by then."

After dinner, Aiden and Gordy went to Gordy's room and sat on his bed. "I
can't believe we had the house to ourselves for almost an hour and didn't
mess around," Aiden said.

"That's because I didn't know when my mom or dad would get home. And, as
everybody keeps telling us, we're not in puberty yet."

"We're just really close, is what my dads tell me."

Gordy nodded. "I wonder how long we're supposed to be really close?"

"Probably the rest of our lives," Aiden said and both boys giggled at the
thought.

Puberty or no puberty, Aiden and Gordy had managed to get themselves
interested in playing around a little and got daring on Gordy's bed. Gordy
lay on his back and pulled his pants and underpants down to his
ankles. Aiden opened his pants, worked his cocklet out of his underpants,
and edged up next to his best friend's steel hard three inches, sliding it
into his mouth. Aiden didn't even think about how Gordy's attitude toward
messing around had changed since the two of them had met. The fact that
Gordy was willing to get a blow job while his parents were in the living
room said a lot. Aiden knew that he and Gordy would probably be naked on
his bed humping each other if they were alone.

It took Gordy a little over ten minutes to have his dry cum. He was about
to take hold of Aiden's exposed little boner when they heard Flo Lansing
call out that Larry was there to pick him up.

"Shit, how do they know?" Aiden asked.

"How do they know what?" Gordy asked.

"Know when I'm about to seriously mess around and cum. They always call me
then...always."

Gordy pulled his pants back up and Aiden put his junk away. When they came
out into the living room Aiden accepted a hug from Gordy's mom, thanked her
for dinner, hugged his daddy, hugged Gordy, and went with Larry to his
car. Larry and Gordy's dad had not failed to notice that the boys appeared
a bit flushed when they came out of Gordy's bedroom.

"How did the Mustangs do?" Aiden asked as they headed home.

"We won 7-1," Larry replied. "The JV lost 6-5."

"How did Nicky and the Hurricane do?"

"Nicky pitched the first four innings. Gave up one hit, struck out nine,
and got the win. He also had a two-RBI double. Jeffrey made a great play at
shortstop and pitched two innings. He gave up the one run when a walk
scored on a double. He also had a single and scored."

"Dang, you remembered everything."

"Well, they are your favorite players and you do know them the best. I had
a feeling you'd ask about them."

"You know almost everything about me."

"Just about." Maybe right down to what you and Gordy did in his bedroom,
Larry thought to himself.

THURSDAY, MARCH 14

The president of the Mayfield Baseball Club started the monthly meeting
promptly at seven when he rapped his gavel on the podium. The meeting was
being held in the conference room of the Mayfield Recreation Center. "The
March meeting of the Mayfield Baseball Club is now in session," president
Nick McCall announced.

The meeting went through its usual opening ritual with Annette Michaels
reading the minutes and Vern Rice giving the treasurer's report. Annette
was the first girl to serve as an officer of the club. The senior played
softball for the high school, but had been on one of the baseball teams
sponsored by the club since she was twelve. Anyone who had participated on
one of the club baseball teams for one full season and was currently an
active player was eligible for membership. The Club decided that Annette
being on the school softball team allowed her to maintain her
eligibility. She had been elected recording secretary in the general
election the previous June. Nick, Vern, and vice-president Rory McCann were
all seniors as was required by the club by-laws.

The first item on the agenda following the reading of the minutes and the
treasurer's report was a visit from Christopher Garrett, president of the
Washington State Youth Baseball Program, and Carlos Jimenez, the
commissioner of the two upper leagues (the 14 and under and the 16 and
under) in the program. They had asked for time on the agenda to give a
report which could mean a big change in the program.

Christopher Garrett introduced himself, looked at Nick, and said, "We were
hoping to speak to the person in charge of this organization. No offense to
the young man chairing the meeting, of course."

Nick gave Garrett his sweetest smile. "I am the person in charge of the
organization," Nick said pleasantly.

"I can see that you're the person in charge of the meeting, and my
compliments to the board of your organization for giving you the
experience. But, I mean the adult elected by the board to run the Mayfield
Baseball Club."

"I am a senior at Mayfield high school, which is a major requirement for
being the president of this organization. But as for being an adult, I
don't turn eighteen until July."

"Pardon me for being confused. But there must be an adult you report to."

"Nope, the adults we have helping us report to me."

"I spoke to an adult on the phone when I set up this appointment."

"That would be my father, Seth McCall, who is our Chief Executive Officer."
He looked over at his father. "Trust me, this is the only time he reports
to me.  Dad, how about telling Mr. Garrett how the Mayfield Baseball Club
operates."

Seth McCall explained how the club was founded by a group of middle school
players who were upset about the sad state of baseball in Mayfield. He told
the two guests how the club was still run by the players. The president had
to be a senior, while the other three officers had to be high school
students (ninth grade or above). The board consisted of four players and
three adults, all elected by the student members.

"George Bednarzyk is our club administrator and legal counsel," Seth
continued. "He makes sure we dot the i's and cross the t's. As CEO, I take
care of the business end. To satisfy all of the legalities I am listed as
the head of the organization. We also have a financial officer who has
ultimate charge of the money. This is the only area where the player
officer reports to the adult. We three adults are volunteers who are hired
by the players as are the coaches."

"Unbelievable. I know that Mayfield has one of the most successful baseball
programs in the state from the recreation level to the high school. I never
thought that it was being run from the bottom up."

"It is, up to a point," Seth said. "The Mayfield Baseball Club has no
affiliation with the school programs or with the Mayfield Parks recreation
program."

"But we send the school some damn fine players," Nick grinned, which got
the audience laughing."

What the Mayfield Club learned from the league representatives was that the
organization of the lower levels of the Washington State League would be
changing for a variety of reasons. It would no longer be sponsoring a
ten-and-under league.

Christopher Garrett explained what the league changes would be and why they
were so late in announcing the changes. "The Puget Sound division of the
league will be joining almost all of the rest of the state in following the
dictates of the new organization.  Only the Southwest division will not be
changing its program, at least not this year. You are welcome to move to
that division if you wish. We expect everyone to make the changes if they
wish to remain in the State League. Also, the Southwest teams will not be
eligible for the state playoffs this year."

"This is a big surprise," Nick said, which was an understatement. "When do
you need a decision?"

"By next Friday," Garrett stated. He acted as if this was a routine matter.

Larry and Phil had never been overly impressed with the administration of
the Washington State Baseball League. "Our players run a more efficient
organization than those two yahoos do," Larry whispered to Phil, referring
to Chris Garrett and Carlos Jimenez.

"I'm just glad George and Seth have connections on the board of the State
League," Phil whispered back. "At least we weren't blindsided and have had
a chance to prepare."

"I will need the members of the board to stay after the regular meeting so
we can find a time to schedule a special board meeting to discuss the
matter," Nick announced. With their part in the meeting finished, the
guests left the room and Nick went to the next item on the agenda, which
was the approval of two coaches for the new eleven-and-under team.

Phil was one of the three adults on the board, so Larry waited for the
quick board meeting to finish. The board decided to meet Saturday afternoon
at The Bear. Nick said he would reserve the meeting room and call everybody
with the exact time.

Since Larry and Phil were once again away from home, Aiden stayed at
Gordy's house for the second straight evening. This time, he was dropped
off after dinner. Gordy's dad accompanied Larry and Phil to the meeting. As
a Mayfield baseball booster he was, of course, interested in the business
of the baseball club.

Gordy paid off his debt to Aiden for the night before, by sucking him off
not long after his dad left. Once again they played it conservatively by
not removing any of their clothes. Gordy jerked himself off to a climax
after he sucked Aiden to a dry orgasm. The boys were both fully recovered
when the dads arrived after the meeting.

FRIDAY, MARCH 15

"I'm going to try out for baseball," Kalie announced as soon as Aiden sat
next to her on the bus for the ride to school.

Aiden looked at her like she had lost her mind. "Girls don't play baseball,
they play softball," he insisted.

"Tell that to Annette Michaels. She not only played baseball each summer
since sixth grade but now she is an officer of the Baseball Club."

"How come my dads never talked about a girl playing baseball? I mean my dad
must have coached her last summer, and then my daddy coached her in
school."

"She played softball in school so she could play with her friends. And she
didn't play baseball last summer because she broke her hand in the last
softball game of the season. The other times she played baseball was before
you moved here."

"How do you know all this?"

"Because, I want to play baseball, so I talked to her. I mean it's not like
it's a secret she played baseball, it's just nobody seems to make a big
deal of it. And I want to play baseball for the school when I get to middle
school next year."

"Well, since you're already eleven, we won't be playing on the same team
since I'm playing ten-and-under baseball." Aiden's dads hadn't said
anything about the league reorganization since the Mayfield Baseball Club
still had to decide whether to join the State League, or play in the
Southwest division.

"I don't care who I play with. I just want to play. By the way, I talked to
my parents about you and Gordy coming to ride horses as soon as the weather
gets nice. They thought it was an awesome idea."

Aiden was fine with the idea too, as long as he had Gordy with him for
support.

Next: Mature Decisions