He Throws Like A Girl By: Willy Mays Hayes “The time has come” a slender slightly graying woman stated “Every walk of life is in baseball, there are the Blacks, the Jews, even the Hispanics are in baseball, and yet women are still not allowed in the game, this has to change!”

 
 
“The time has come” a slender slightly graying woman stated “Every walk of life is in baseball, there are the Blacks, the Jews, even the Hispanics are in baseball, and yet women are still not allowed in the game, this has to change!”

The woman continued to speak in front of the group of gathered women her grey form fitting business suit accentuating her slightly flabby figure.

“We have the necessary items and a sound plan, now all that remains is for us to vote on this proposition and then implement it, we cannot fail and neither will we!

The voting was a pro forma matter, the results having already been determined before hand. All of the twenty or so women gathered around the had extensive experience in the areas of minor league baseball, some had been executives, others assistant GM’s to lesser qualified men and one owned her own team. All hands raised simultaneously when the votes for the plan were called, sealing the fate of one minor league player forever.
 
 
The first day of a new season is always the best. Everyone is ready to play, no one is hurt, the fields are all freshly prepared and everyone is excited to play. For some it might be the end of a lifetime of minor league servitude, for others possibly the beginning of a special career. But for whom ever it might be, everyone all ways starts their career in the low minors, and such is the way it was for a young right handed pitcher named Daniel Schmidt. Danny had been drafted that year in the 15th round out of junior college, low enough in the draft to not get a significantly large signing bonus, but high enough that the organization cared about him and his development.

The season got under way with the Low A ball team, the Brooklyn Pigs dropping the first twenty out of their first thirty two games. But worst of all was Danny, he had been hit hard in his first few starts and then was injured throwing a pitch when he felt a twinge in his right elbow. The doctor had diagnosed it as a tear in his ulnar nerve and recommended a few weeks rest and then some rehab work before examining the elbow again to determine if surgery was necessary.

“Three more Danny!” a smallish woman in her late thirties shouted, she was approximately five foot three inches tall and weighed a very cut one hundred and fifteen pounds. She had been working for the Iron Pigs for just over twelve years as the trainer having been passed over for several other higher paying jobs in favor of other men. “Come on, you can do it!” she encouraged.

Danny was continuing to feel elbow pain even weeks after the initial injury and was headed to Tommy John surgery if its condition didn’t rapidly improve. Danny knew that his career was in danger of being over before it even started. At five foot five and only one hundred and twenty five pounds, he was far from the prototypical pitcher’s build. His small stature limited his draft status even though he threw by far the hardest of any one selected in that year’s draft.

“Can you help me Kelly?” he asked the trainer.

“With what, for what?” she responded, already knowing what he meant, she had been around a while.

“I need a little boost, that’s all, can you get some?” he asked, practically begging.

In minor league baseball, getting steroids is sometimes as easy as getting in the car and driving to a certain pharmacy, in fact it was a widely know secret that players in the Arizona Fall League routinely drove across the Mexico-US boarder to purchase cheap, legal steroids. While it wasn’t as easy as that in the Carolina League, they were still widely available if you knew the people to ask. And if you were going to ask, who better than the trainer who has all the connections?

At the end of their next rehab session, Kelly asked Danny to follow her into the team’s shower area. Because it was only about twelve thirty in the afternoon, the clubhouse was deserted except for the two. Kelly asked Daniel to pull down his workout shorts to his knees as she began to fill several syringes with different chemicals.

“All right Danny, this first one is some HGH to assist with the healing of your elbow, hold on, this might sting a little.”

She inserted the wide gauged needle into his glute and depressed the plunger. “This next one is Winstrol, it helps to develop fast twitch muscles used to throw a baseball hard.” she stated matter a factly as she plunged the needle into a fold of fat near his navel.

“This last one is a masking agent used to prevent you from testing positive for the others you just received.”

She injected the entire bottle even though she knew that the instructions only stated for a very small amount to be used. She neglected to mention that she had just injected him with a massive dose of female hormones, hundreds of times more concentrated than those flowing through the veins of pregnant women.

“Well at least he will have he the excuse of having a “hormone imbalance”” she thought to herself as she watched Danny pull his shorts back up and made for the exit to the parking lot.

Kelly immediately wrapped up the vials and placed them back into her office’s mini fridge. She carefully placed the dirty needles into an empty coke can and slightly crushed it before walking it to the dumpster and making damn sure it was at the bottom of the pile. Her next stop was for a quick bite to eat in her office before placing a call to her mysterious boss.

“Hello?”

“This is K, the subject accepted everything I gave him, no questions asked.”

“Good, continue as planned!” with a sharp click, the phone went dead.

While there was no reason to suspect that anyone was listening in on their conversation, there was no need to take any chances. The call lasted all of five seconds and nothing of any illegal actions were discussed.

On Kelly’s end she relaxed and thought nothing of it. While the request was illegal and bizarre, Kelly didn’t care so long as the extra money on her checks continued to flow in.
 
 
On the other end, Carol King had other things to do. She immediately tossed the cell phone she had been using out of the window. The phone itself was a cloned phone, one of many purchased on the black market and was easily replaceable for a person with the financial power Carol controlled. On the outside she played the unassuming owner of the minor league franchise, the Brooklyn Pigs, but on the inside she seethed.

It was that drive that lead her to found the Council For The Advancement of Women in Baseball. And it was the other members of that group to whom she placed her next call on her personal cell phone.

“Ladies, its started!” she said, her voice being heard on speakerphone to the other gathered women in the same crowded conference room where the idea was hatched.

“The subject’s name is uh, let me see here…” Carol checked her notes, “Daniel Schmidt, he was drafted earlier this year, he is currently rehabbing an injury, umm, oh yeah, and he throws in the mid nineties!”

“Very nice!” responded one member, “But do you really expect the owners in the Major Leagues to accept a woman on to one of their rosters, much less a man who changed into a woman?”

“First, when we are finished “helping” his fastball if you know what I mean,” no one needed to be told what that meant, “Then they won’t have a choice because who would turn down the next Nolan Ryan? And besides if it comes to that we could always sue them!”

“Should we continue?” one lady asked, “Can we win?”

“Of course we continue, we have no choice now, what can we say, we castrated a teenager and then did nothing? We have a once in a life time chance and we need to act now!” Carol paused to gather her thoughts before continuing.

“If there are no objections, then I think this meeting is concluded!”

Carol killed the power to her phone, the short but intense meeting having tired her. She rested in the back of her massive SUV as her driver and she made their way to the park for another night of Iron Pigs baseball!
 
 
And so it went for the next three weeks. Danny would go to the park early for rehab, Kelly would give him his little “helper” and then he would relax. Daniel’s elbow had completely stopped hurting and was almost ready to make his return to the team. The doctor who had examined him earlier for his elbow was amazed by the complete , miraculous recovery of the elbow. He had been positive that he Daniel would need Tommy John surgery.

That night Daniel was scheduled to make his first start since the injury. Daniel sat in his locker, beginning to dress for the game. The team they were playing that night, the Gwinnett Guppies, had been the team he had hurt his arm against.

“I hope I’m ready for this.”

He began to pull on his socks and pants, pausing only to notice that his pants seemed a little tighter in the seat. This was some what curious considering he had been working out harder than he ever had before but he easily dismissed the thought for other more important things, like winning.
 
 
The game began in a pedestrian way, with both sides held scoreless into the sixth inning. However, Danny had yet to allow more than two hits and only one ball out of the infield. He needed only one more out to get out of the inning and head to the showers.

“Well Mort, whadda ya think o’ Mista’ Shmid’ tonight?” stated Willy Spleen, the long time radio announcer for the Pigs.

“Who’s that?”

“I couldn’t have said it any better myself, that broadcasting school last winter sure helped Mort; here’s the first pitch from Schmidt.”

“Cut on and missed, strike two, and that pitch was jusssst a bit outside! Danny really has them guessing tonight!”

“Right!” Mort responded.

“Thanks for that brilliant observation Mort, you sure do tell it well!”

“Here’s the oh and two pitch, and he popped him up boy, he really hit the shit outta that didn’t he Mort, you know what they say, nothing sucks like a Hoover!”

“I don‘t get it but I do know he didn‘t hit it very far.”

“Absolute brilliance folks, Mort has a future in radio I’m telling you which is good for him cause he sure as hell don’t have the face for TV!”
 
 
There were congratulations all around in the locker room after the game. Danny had pitched a dominating six complete innings allowing only two hits while fanning eleven and walking none.

“Great job Danny, you looked great!” the manager yelled as he walked by on the way to the shower.

“Thanks skip, it felt great!”

“Good job kid, you looked good out their tonight!”

Danny turned around to see the general manager of the New York Dodgers standing next to his locker.

“We were afraid we were gonna’ lose you after that elbow thing but you recovered nicely. If you keep throwing like you did tonight it won’t be long before you reach The Show!”

“Well thanks Mr. Davison, I’m just trying to help the team, I’m just happy to be here and the good lord willing I’ll succeed!”

Nuke LaLoosh