Isn’t that what we all want?
I can list a hundred things I’d choose to have instead.
Beck
Tell me a few.
Okay. To start with, a job where I’m not constantly fearing going broke. I love what I do, but it could be taken from me at any moment. I’d love to go one day without worrying about a fire ripping through and destroying everything I’ve ever worked for, or a sudden drop in customers to the point that I can’t pay my bills.
Beck
What would you do then?
I don’t know.
Beck
What else? If you could have anything?
I . . . can’t get myself to type a response. Not because I’m against sharing right now, but becauseI don’t knowwhat to say.
WhatdoI want? Outside of Blank Page, where do I even see myself ten years down the road? Am I still here, dealing with the same inability to sit still and craft a life that doesn’t involve coffee and stress?
I stare at the screen, unable to find a single thing to tell him. Then, another message comes through.
Beck
I’ll probably only be this good for another three years. If that many, as long as I don’t injure myself.
My shoulders fall, easily accepting the change of focus.
What comes after that?
Beck
I’d coach, if there’s a team that wants me. I don’t want to go back down to play at a lower level again. I’m past that.
What kind of injury could you get?
I expect him to tease me about caring, but he doesn’t. It’s surprising in a good yet mildly concerning way.
Beck
Tommy John, for one. It’s an elbow injury. At this point in my career, I can’t guarantee that I’d be the same after.
Is that common?
Beck
For pitchers? Yeah. I guess. I throw one inning when I’m needed, but on a good night, my fastball is a hundred and four. The odds of me hurting myself are pretty high if I’m not careful.
I refuse to think about the reason behind the sudden nausea rolling over me.
You should be careful then.
Beck
Yeah, Quinny. I’ll do that for you.