Surprise Inclusion
Julien walked into the clubhouse, adjusting the ice pack that he had on his shoulder. The season was getting to its conclusion and his body was letting him know it every time that he went out and threw a few pitches – whether that was in a game or in practice.
The Braves were a few games back in the Double-A South division race, but Julien wasn’t quite sure how he was supposed to take minor league playoffs. Sure, he wanted to win. He always wanted to win, whether that was in the minors or in little league. But did anyone else care if the Mississippi Braves made the playoffs or not?
It wasn’t something on his mind, but it seemed that most of the guys were wondering if they would benefit from others getting the call from the big league club at the tail end of the season should they be out of the playoff race. Maybe not a jump to the show, but a move up to Triple-A.
He wasn’t much of a social media guy, but Julien knew he wasn’t on anyone in Atlanta’s radar.
…or so he thought.
“Augustin, come here,” Wyatt Toregas called from his office.
Julien walked into the room and sat down in one of the empty chairs. He wiped some of the running ice water from his arm and dried his hand on his pants.
The manager walked around the desk and picked up his cellphone. He put the phone on speaker and set it back down. “He’s in here, Chip.”
“Julien,” a voice said from the other end of the line. “Chip Moore here. I’m sure that name doesn’t mean anything to you, but I’m EVP over our minor league affiliates. We’re always watching our guys down there and you got a cannon on you, son.”
“Thank you,” Julien said.
“Told you he doesn’t talk much, Chip,” Toregas said.
“No worries. With all the Spanish guys in the majors, most of the players don’t talk much. Look, I would’ve done this in person if it wasn’t for this damn COVID shit, but we’re going to need you to fly to Colorado, kid.”
Julien raised an eyebrow, confused, and looked at Toregas. “I’m getting traded?”
“Hell no,” Moore said. “We think we might have a diamond in the rough in you and the people voting for this type of thing think so too because you’ve been selected to the Futures Game. Congrats, son. Go out there and do the organization proud.”
“I don’t understand. Who would even vote for me?”
“A lot of fucking people. You led the pitchers in votes,” the manager said as he sat down in his chair.
“Yep. You’re going to be starting up there, too. I got another call I need to hop. These fucking zoom things are going to be the death of me. You keep dealing, Julien. You’ll be in the show before you know it.” And then the line disconnected.
Toregas turned to his computer and smacked the monitor a couple times to get the color right. “They already got your travel all lined up. I think you’re flying out of Jackson, so we’ll get you there tomorrow night.”
Julien nodded and stood up to leave. As he did, he felt a little shellshocked but a small part of him felt as if it was walking on clouds.
…
Standing alongside some of the brightest prospects in baseball, Julien took in the sparse crowd at Coors Field – on account of COVID, of course.
As the national anthem played, he looked back on the whirlwind tour his life had taken over the last 18 months. It wasn’t that long ago that he was preparing to play JuCo baseball at Baton Rouge Community College and now he was playing in the warm-up for the All-Star Game. On the same field that he was about to play on, some of the greatest major leaguers right now would step onto the diamond in the league’s showpiece exhibition.
It was surreal.
And minutes later, when he took off his cap as he walked back out of the dugout for the first inning of the game, he looked to the sky as he did before every game he started.
Then he walked to the mound to toe the rubber in a major league park for the first time.