Empyreal Environs

Something really strange happened while I was on the field last season. It’s only now that I’ve been able to talk about it....

During games, I wouldn’t remember what I did on the field. I’d be sitting around in the dugout while the other guys batted. I’d go up to bat and I’d remember everything. Then, when the opposing team came up to bat, I’d have no memory from the time I’d take right-field until I was back in the dugout. Completely blank.

One time, I came back to the bench and Johnny [Damon] raved about some play I made. “Holy crap, Trot, that catch you made was insane.” I just smiled and nodded, since I didn’t recall a thing. Seems like I had just saved Pedro Martinez’s ass in Game 5 of the ALCS by making a diving catch of a ball hit by [Miguel] Cairo. I just looked down at the lucky cap in my hands, reworking the bill and getting more and more confused.

I decided to talk to [David] McCarty, since he’s the brainiac on the team. He got all excited. “Gee, Christopher, a few of my buddies were doing studies on the spontaneous proliferation of hive intelligence in microorganisms. In fact, these life forms seem to thrive in an environment of human sudor—”

“What’s ‘sudor’?”

“You know, perspiration. Sweat. Anyway, they need perspiration, pine tar, and heat. Then, once the proper proportion of these elements come together, a multi-cellular intelligent being is generated. This creature can mimic beta waves of anything near it, affecting the synaptic connections of the host.” His voice started going all high, like it always does when he gets excited about some geek thing. “Actually, my theory is that the cerebral parasite living on Eric Gagne’s hat is the one responsible for his Cy Young award. When they say he’s pitching out of his mind, I think it’s literal. How else can you explain an ERA of 1.2 in 2003? It’s inhuman, I say. And what about—”

My head hurt. “Whoa, whoa, whoa. ‘Synaptic’? You mean, like, my brain?!” I started to freak out.

“Indeed, the cerebral cortex. I can put you in touch with my friend with a degree in neuropsych and evolutionary biology. Really keen guy, actually. He just was awarded—”

“Hey, uh, thanks Stretch. Er, my kid just started crying, I better go take care of him.” McCarty’s a smart dude and everything, but goes into just a little more detail than I need. I just had to get the hell off of the phone. All’s I know is that something living on my lucky hat has been controlling my brain and I needed to get rid of it. I took that hat and threw it into the incinerator so that I wouldn’t ever have to be controlled by it again.

Now I need something else lucky. I did wear the same jock all last season....