À la récherche d'Ellsbury perdue. Parte Deux: Black Swan's Way

Mon Dieu.  Quel type d'imbécile goes through 10 outfielders? Et en avante le fin de Juillet?

And now, I am expected to leave Florida, to journey to that City of Sighs they inhabit, and save the team. What do they want of me?

It has been months since I practiced my singular skill of drawing the catcher's interference. Didn't they understand that is a metaphor? My entire life, I have been interfered from those behind me, grabbing at my bat, and taking away my chance to run free as un petit garçon once more.

Zut alors, have they no regard for my literary efforts? The time I need to spend on my reminiscences of Fenway days past?

Must I be once again forced out to perform before some crowd of gaping philistines, like a trained monkey?

No doubt, I shall have to play next to that odd little bald man, always très hyperactif. And now, someone named Giancarlo. What is he, a hairstylist?

Can I do this? Am I a man of action, of the deed? Or just a phantom?

There is no choice—not if I wish to keep the $23 million a year they keep sending me.  Mais oui, bien sûr, I will rush to the rescue of my team the way my ancestors rushed to hold the Maginot Line.

I must accelerate my schedule de réhabilitation. First, two weeks of intensive whirlpool and heat therapy. Then, two more weeks of stretching and running, followed by two week of hitting off what they charmingly call, le T.

Then—two solid weeks of les activities de bees-bol.  After that, I will work my way up through the minor leagues again. Two weeks each at high-A, Double-A, and Triple-A ball should do the trick.

To do it properly, of course, I should also spend two weeks in les leagues de Rookie, et le A-bas bol, but there is no time!

That should get me back to the Bronx by about mid-November, just in time for the stretch drive. (Note to moi: look up précisement when the season ends these days. Every year, they seem to drag it out longer and longer.)

This is a terrible sacrifice, I know, and I cannot guarantee that I will return alive. But as they say, there is no "I" in team. Although, there is one in équipe. Aussi, in "time"...