faustmidas

Colby nodded, rubbing his face with his hand. "I know, man. But that's baseball, and you shouldn't beat yourself up for it. We're not gonna be the best all the time. And we certainly ain't ever gonna be no Ruth or Pujols," he chuckled. "Slumps just happen, yanno?" He stood then, and walked over to the dresser, staring at himself in the mirror, then making eye contact with Brendan's reflection. "Heck, I bet if you wanted, my dad would even give you a few pointers when he gets in town tomorrow. He ain't bad at fielding, either. He wouldn't mind helpin' ya out, if he can. After he gets done instructing me, that is..." Colby turned around to fa

Colby watched Brendan's unblinking face, wondering what inner monologue could be going on in the shortstop's head as he lay on the bed, staring at the ceiling. Colby had been so ready to jump on him about all of the little trivial things that had been bothering him, but when he saw the look on Brendan's face as he walked through the door, he knew something was up, and now wasn't the time to start in. They may not be the best of buds, but living together for the past few months had made Colby able to pick up on Brendan's moods rather easily. Sure, Brendan was typically a happy-go-lucky kind of guy - but not always. And who could expect him to

Colby bent down to pick up his toothbrush, grimacing as he did so. "Ugh, nasty.." he said, as he tossed it into the trashcan. It was then that he heard a pounding at the door, and someone yelling words he couldn't quite understand. Brendan, he thought, turning around and glaring at the door to their hotel room. He walked to the door, and just stood there, listening to Brendan yell. Then Colby turned around and looked at their room, which he generally tried not to do because he couldn't stand the state it was in half the time, anyway. He looked at his own bed, which granted wasn't perfect or even made up, but at least the pillows were in thei

After getting the scoop from Brendan about what happened down in the clubhouse, Colby didn't think it was that big of a deal. Carp had a point to make, and Brendan had listened and understood it - that was that. The game went by fast enough, and it was another win in the books for the Cards. Just a half game from first place now, and Colby felt lucky to be part of a club that was in such a close race for the pennant, even if he wasn't getting much play time at the moment. He showered quickly after the game (he might not have played, but he had been hot and sweaty all game long), putting on some jeans and a plain t-shirt before he headed bac

"Uhh.." Colby mused, as his eyes scanned the locker room for the shortstop's glove. He turned around and spotted it behind him, in Brendan's locker. "Here ya go," he said as he trotted towards Brendan and tossed his glove to him. Why does everyone want me to keep track of their gloves? Dang. He clutched his own glove to his chest as he took the steps two at a time, doubtful that he would get to use it today, but still hopeful. It was comforting to just have his glove with him, anyway. He felt naked without it within reach. He emerged from the clubhouse and turned right, and settled down on the bench in his usual spot next to Stavinoha. "Hey

When Tony first told Colby he wouldn't be starting this week, Colby was a little irritated. It was a blow, especially after becoming so accustomed to starting this year - and it was no secret that he didn't see eye-to-eye with Tony most of the time, anyway. But his irritation only lasted a little while, and he got over it. His batting average had dropped to .221, after all, and that was a big problem. So he would stay quiet, and try to regain his focus. He'd already called his dad, who had said he'd be waiting for him in the cages the next day for some much needed father-son BP. Colby really wouldn't have gotten this far if it hadn't been for