Saturday, January 13, 2007
Dream: Baseball With The Mob
I was playing baseall with against the mob. Actually, I was the son of a mob guy, and was part of the business, I just wasn’t made yet. And that’s the way it was, the sons and underlings of the made guys against the real deal.
It was a tough game too. We were neck and neck the whole time.
For some reason, the made guys had a little kid as their catcher. He was like 13 years old, and not very good. So, I was enlisted to stand behind him and make sure the game ran smoothly – catch anything he missed, keep the ball rolling quickly so the game would keep going, but since I was on the opposite team, it was understood I would not be making any fast throw to get somebody out.
Bottom of the ninth, we were up by one. The made guys are up, this time I’m really catcher. There’s the pitch and somebody tries to steal third. I grab the ball and throw it fast to third and….whoof…it just keeps going. There isn’t a third baseman. I look around and see all of my players not doing anything.
It is then I realize we are making the made guys win. They are in the mob you know, and if they lose, they might get made. Mob guys mad is bad. Very bad.
Game over and we’re all headed out t a meeting. My real dad walks by, and he is one of the top mob gus. He’s helping all these really old mob guys into their cars and asking the “boss” if he wants to go with him.
At this point I think I begin to wake up, so the dream sort of swirls and moves quickly. I remember there was a moment where I was explaining to dad that I didn’t want to be in the mob. And another one talking with my fellow sons of the mob about not being willing to kill.