A few days later, Will attended a poker game at Cole’s house. He’d received the invitation just before they returned home from their road trip. Due to the short notice, Will suspected he might have been a fill-in for someone who backed out. That hadn’t kept him from accepting the offer. He knew a few other pitchers would be participating too, and he thought it would be another good bonding opportunity.
In the six games since he’d broken the ice with the bullpen players by addressing some of their home repair projects, there had been a noticeable shift in their attitudes. He had gone out to Tony, Duane, and Eddie’s homes to help them with the ceiling fan, drywall, and toilet repairs. They had all expressed their gratitude for his willingness to help them out.
“Can’t say I ever pictured you with a hammer in your hand, man,” Duane had said. “You’re so focused on baseball. I figured a ball and glove was it for you.”
Tony and Eddie had made similar comments. As he had with them, Will took the opportunity while he was in Duane’s personal environment to explain himself.
“I am focused on baseball,” he said as he sanded the spackle he’d used to repair the hole in Duane’s drywall. “I consider it a privilege to play the game. While I have that privilege, I’m going to give it one hundred percent of my attention any time I’m on the field. I know baseball won’t last forever. I need to make the most of it while I can. Plus, I really want a World Series ring. Don’t you?”
He wasn’t sure if his indirect lectures had gotten through to them or not, but he deemed it a minor victory that they listened to what he had to say. The poker game was another chance for his teammates to get to know a different side of him.
And, apparently, for Evan Dorsey to take all of his damn money.
“Why didn’t anyone warn me that Dorsey’s a ringer?” he muttered as the Aussie collected the chips from the center of the table yet again.
“Misery loves company,” Randy cheerfully replied.
The starting pitcher was one of seven other players sitting at Will’s table along with Cole, Evan, Javy, Tony, Eddie, and Reynaldo Lagares, another pitcher in the team’s starting rotation. Cole had two poker tables set up in his impressive game room, both of them with eight players each. Over Will’s shoulder, he heard right fielder Kyle Kintzler taunting first baseman Dylan Cordero at the second table. It sounded like Kyle was raking in the lion’s share of the winnings at that table.
“Yeah,” Javy said in response to Will’s complaint. “Aren’t you supposed to be sleep deprived with a newborn at home, Dorsey?”
“Sierra’s moms are helping us out,” Evan said.
Based on his lack of a smile and the coolness of his dark blue gaze, Evan might have been thrilled to have the help or desperate to send his mothers-in-law packing. Will supposed his unreadability was what made him such an excellent poker player. It definitely made him the most unapproachable teammate Will had. He had yet to determine if he really even liked the Aussie.
“Must be nice,” Randy said to Evan as Cole dealt the next hand.
“Yeah,” Evan said.
Again, Will wasn’t sure if the third baseman was being sincere. How was he ever going to find the guy’s tell?
“Free up your schedule next home stand, Campbell,” Duane called out from the other table. “I’m about to win enough to cover the new entry tile you recommended.”
“You into home improvement?” Cole asked Will as the players at the other table told Duane to fuck off.
“You could say that.” He reviewed his cards and contemplated his options. “My company buys properties, renovates them, and sells them for a profit. My dad and I do a lot of the work ourselves. I spent many summers with him on construction sites once I was old enough to wear a hard hat.”
“The other guys hirin’ you to do stuff at their houses?” Javy asked.
“He offered,” Tony said before Will could reply. “Saved my ass with the landlord by replacing my ceiling fan and repairing a crack in the ceiling.”
“What’re these guys doing for you in return?” Randy asked.
Eddie smirked and said, “Paying more attention during the games.”
Cole, Randy, and Reynaldo all exchanged glances, probably reasoning out what he was trying to do. The starting pitchers were just as concerned as he was over the bullpen’s shortcomings.