You're Out of Here

“The Pelicans, sir, had nothing to do with it!”

“I don’t give a shit.”

“Language!”

“I’m sure your boys have heard it worse at home. Hell, I’ve heard it worse from the stands. Those parents got no boundaries when it comes to kids' sports.”

“That is neither here nor there.”

“Quit your fancy talk, coach. Kid says he was assaulted by some boys in blue and white uniforms. The Pelicans and the Raptures are the only ones in blue and white. Both gotta go. Zero tolerance policy on violence.”

“The Raptors are the only ones who are responsible. They’re from Denton, for Christ's Sake. My boys are innocent.”

“Easy, pal. My wife is from Denton. And the kid was roughed up somethin’ good. Couldn’t even tell us which logo was on the jerseys. Jus’ that they took his fancy shoes and busted his lip.”

“Then there you go. There’s no reason my boys would take anyone’s shoes. They’re wearing the newest cleats. It’s part of their required uniform.”

“Yeah, I see that. This kid was just someone watching from the stands. It was his sneakers that was stolen.”

“And just where would my boys stash any such sneakers? They’d have to be carrying them all day. This goddamn tournament has us trapped here, like we’re being punished because we’re a winning team.”

“All the better that I’m kicking you guys out, then.”

“This is an outrage, I tell you. A fucking outrage!”

“Language, Coach. And quiet down.”

“Oh, blow it out your ass, Frank! I won’t quiet down until we get some justice here!”

“Dan, what’s goin’ on?”

“Big umpire here…”

“Hi, ma’am. I’m Frank.”

“Frank here says the ‘cans are out of the tournament, Beth. That some kid was bullied or something and he’s blaming every boy on the team.”

“The fuck you are! My Peter would never do anything like that. What proof do you have?”

“Ma’am, we only know it was some kids in blue and white.”

“There you go. It’s those assholes from Denton. They’re in blue and white, too. I knew somethin’ like this was gonna happen. Carrie! Sarah Beth! Get over here!”

“Sweet Christ…”

“What’s goin’ on?”

“Frank here says one o’ our boys messed ‘round with some kid and they’re kickin’ the ‘cans out.”

“Messed ‘round? L-l-like… s-s-sex…?”

“Nah, like beat ‘em up or somethin’. Tell ‘er, Frank.”

“Not sure why you’re sayin’ my name like that… but, yes. A boy was assaulted and his shoes were stolen.”

“And he said it was one of those Denton fucks.”

“Them Denton fucks? Why’s he kickin’ us out?”

“What I said is the kid only identified the color pattern on the jersey. Blue and white.”

“Oh, it was them Denton fucks, a’ight. Raptors, my ass. You see what they rode up in today? A goddamn schoolbus!”

“I’m not sure what that has to do with anything...”

“If all’s you got is uniform color, then I’m tellin’ you we’re not goin’ anywhere. The ‘cans got this tournament locked up with one more game. You know how many scouts are here today? Davis will not be missin’ that kind of exposure!”

“I thought your son’s name was Peter?”

“That’s my son. Show’s what you fuckin’ know, Frank.”

“Again, not sure why you keep saying it like that’s not my damn name.”

“Where’s this kid anyway? I wanna ask him some questions.”

“He’s already left.”

“So he’s gone and we’re still gettin’ punished?”

“Coach, I’m just glad the parents didn’t call the cops. Kid’s lip looked real bad.”

“Oh, boo-fuckin’-hoo. My kid’s playin’. I don’t give a rat’s ass what you say.”

“Ma’am, we’ve already redone the bracket to exclude the Pelicans. Once the Raptors finish their game, we’ll let them know the situation.”

“So those Denton fucks get to finish their game and you’re just gonna make us pack up and go?”

“Again, I’m just glad the cops aren’t getting involved.”

“Well they might if you keep sayin’ my boy can’t play. ‘Cause I’m about to put my boot in your throat!”

“Ma’am, please… calm… down! It’s over. The final round has the Cobras facing off against the Titans.”

“The fucking Cobras? Those Bartonville fucks? I don’t fuckin’ believe it! We fuckin’ creamed them this morning!”

“Please, your language!”

“Eat my ass, Frank.”

“Coach, I’ve already made my ruling. We’re done here. The Pelicans need to go. You all do.”

…

“What the hell you mean we gotta go? You know it was those Ashville assholes!”

“Coach, all I know is the kid said it was some kids in blue and while jerseys and that your team and the Pelicans are out of this tournament.”

“And who do I speak to about this? Sammy hasn’t been properly scouted yet. This might be his only chance and his mom will be… appreciative.”

“I can’t recall little league tournaments being this intense before, and now there’s scouts?.”

“It’s a big deal, Frank.”

“Like, what the hell? Does everyone think I have a different name?”

“You show me the kid that said one of my boys did this.”

“He didn’t say one boy, but a group of them. That’s why both teams are getting eliminated. The Raptors are out.”

“Fine. Who fucking cares about this shitty tournament anyway?”

“I’m guessing the boys on your team could care less.”

“Hey! They’re stars, all of ‘em! Go back to your little booth, Frank. Before the Raptors rip your guts out Jurassic Park-style!”

“Sweet Jesus, I need another line of work. One that doesn’t involve parents. Or people in general.”



Word Count: 926