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Vindicate Me	By : msmartinez Category: Individual Celebrities > Athlete/Sports Misc Views: 2091 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction. I do not know the people written about in this fanfiction. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 1-Vindicate Me
- 2-Ch 2
- 3-Ch 3
- 4-Ch 4
- 3
- 4
I showered the next morning, as if the cold water could somehow cleanse me of the thing I’d done. I set the shampoo bottle on the ledge in the shower and it fell. Instinctively I reached out with my right arm and snagged it. My arm had actually responded to a physical command my brain gave it for the first time in two years. Could it be the dope working that quickly, that effectively?

I could curl five pound weights with my right arm. I curled absently while I sat on the bench at the game that day. Guess who was pitching for the visiting Sharks? I waited around after the game for him. “Hey, I have to ask you something,” I said when I saw him.

“Anything,” he said. “Come on up.”

Once in his room, we could talk safely. “Look at this,” I said. I had the weight with me. I curled it a few times.

He looked unimpressed. “Coming along. You want more?”

“Do I need more?”

“You do if you want to work up to ten pounds.”

“How much are we talking, and for how long?”

“Same dosage, and as long as you want. Only it’ll be a hundred a pop now.”

“A hundred? How often?”

“Three times a week.”

Three hundred dollars…. “When can I stop?”

“Whenever you want. But your arm may not want you to.”

“What does that mean?”

“If you can keep your arm strong without the juice, then you don’t need it.” He shrugged.

“But…”

“You’re smart, even though you’re too damned moral for your own good. All right, I’ll give it to you straight. That wasn’t just steroids. I also had my guy put human growth hormone in there. You’re working off a hybrid product. That’s why your arm responded so quickly.”

“Holy…steroids and human growth hormone?” My head spun. “We could get in some serious shit.”

“We won’t ‘cause we won’t say anything. You know how many guys in the league juice? They rat, it’s their asses too, you dig?”

“What does all this mean?”

“Damn, you sure want to get to the bottom of this. You’ll have to take this until you’re a hundred percent. After that, it’s up to you, but it’ll be hard to keep your strength without it. It’s a loosely life-long contract, at least as long as you’re in the MLB.” He lit up another red on the patio. “Don’t worry about your wife. The HGH in the dope should keep your boys their normal size. So as long as you keep your mouth shut, we’re in.”

Three times a week I came back. Three times a week the needle violated me. I pitched an inning of relief the last game of the winter league in Hilo. I came back to St. Louis and by spring training, my arm had responded and I was in the rotation. 2002 saw me win, win and win some more. An All-Star appearance. Strikeouts again. It was as though I’d fast forwarded past the two years of nothing to the happy days again.

It baffled everyone, but nobody said a thing. Jason visited the house when Dutchie Reid was at work. It seemed like everything was smoother than silk in my life.

After a while, the excitement over my miracle comeback died down a bit and I went back to the low-key dad-and-husband role at home. I got up one morning to have breakfast with my kid and wife. The paper was neatly tucked by my plate as Dutchie Reid made breakfast. Rickey was in his high chair. Where’s Norman Rockwell when you need him?

I opened to the sports page. A headline screamed “Canseco to write tell all book”. A smaller headline underneath: “I’m naming names of steroid users.”

My blood ran cold. I felt like the world had stopped. Just seeing that word in print was enough to make my dope-riddled heart skip. “Morning baby,” Dutchie said. “Juice?”

“No! I didn’t!” I dropped the paper.
“What?” She set the pitcher of orange juice on the table. “Didn’t what?”

Orange juice. “Nothing,” I said.

“You okay?”

“Yea.”

She didn’t look convinced. “I have lessons until three, and then rehearsal. I’ll be in the city until about nine tonight. Take the baby to the park or something.”

“Sure, sounds good.”

Breakfast was a quiet affair. I didn’t dare touch the paper again. She kissed me and the baby and left for the day. Jason was due to come over. I showed him to the front room. We did our business in front of the dormer windows. A big show for all. But first….“Not in front of the baby,” I said. I put Rickey in his crib upstairs.

“Cute kid,” Jason offered.

“Thanks.”

We often made small talk while he shot me up. He forced the needle in, but I didn’t feel the drugs seep into my flesh as usual. He was turned around, looking at the open front door. Dutchie Reid saw me with my pants around my ankles and Jason bent over my butt. “What’s going on,” she asked.

“Dutchie, what are you doing here,” I asked, panicked.

“I live here, and one of my lessons cancelled, so I thought I’d come home for lunch.” She walked around us to get a good look at the goings-on. “What is this?” Jason backed away. “A needle? Why are you not wearing your pants?” She put two and two together in her head, I guess, because her eyes got wide and she covered her mouth with her hands. “Matt! Drugs! Steroids! Who are you?” She turned to Jason. He sprinted right out the door. She looked at me, her face a mess of confusion, hurt and shame. She suddenly tore the needle from my hip, where it still rested. She pointed it at me. “What are you doing? Do you know what this can do to you? How long have you been doing this?”

I tried to answer but I couldn’t speak. I’d never seen her so upset. Angry tears streaked her face. “I did it for you,” I choked.

“What?” She reached back and hit me in the face. The blow surprised me and it hurt a little too. She hit me around my head and shoulders. She knocked me back against the wall. My eye hit the frame of a large mirror my parents had given us as a wedding gift. I had to get a grip. I held her wrists in my hands. “Stop,” I said.

She struggled. “Matt! You did it for me? You did drugs for me? What the hell is that?”

“I was sick of not being able to pitch, and I did it.” It sounded so lame.

“You took the coward’s way out. You’d never do that!”

“I had no choice.”

“Don’t make me laugh!” She was incredulous. “You didn’t have a choice? Well, I have no choice either then! Where’s the baby?”

“Upstairs.”

She stomped up the stairs and returned with my son. “Get yourself cleaned up, and you tell the team what you’ve done. When you can own up to your lack of balls, call me.” Ooh, good choice of words.

And with that, she was gone.

“Where are you going,”allealled out the door.

She shouted at me after closing the car door. “Far away from you, until you get your ass together. If you absolutely need me for something, call my cell. I’ll be back to get things for me and the baby. Right now, I don’t want to even look at you.”

The blood from the cut she’d opened on my eye trickled down my face. The needle was lying on the floor, still full of the juice. The door was wide open. My wife and son were gone.

My life was wrecked.
- 3
- 4
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Vindicate Me