Chapter 22 Chapter Twenty Two

They took the subway to Yankee Stadium.At this time, the No. 4 train was empty, and they quickly found their seats and sat down. Myron asked, "Why did you beat those two muscular men?" "You know why," Wen said. "Because they challenged you?" "The way they look, it's hard to call it provocative." "Then why did you beat them?" "Because it's the easiest." "what?" Wen hated repeating himself. "You're overreacting," Myron, "as usual." "No, Myron, my reaction was just right."

"what do you mean?" "I'm famous, you know that." "Yes, everyone says you're a violent lunatic." "Exactly. This reputation is created and earned by relying on your so-called overreaction. Sometimes, fame can be traded, isn't it?" "I think so." "Does this help us?" "I think so." "Stop saying 'I think so,'" Wen said. "Friends and foes alike think I'm too impulsive, like you said, overreacting, they think I'm unpredictable and out of control , However, they are all talking nonsense, I never lose control, on the contrary, I have carefully considered every attack, and I have carefully weighed the pros and cons before making a shot."

"Just this time, do you think the advantages outweigh the disadvantages?" "yes." "That is to say, before we went in, you already planned to beat them both up?" "Yes. I thought about it, and when I found out that neither of them was armed, and it would be easy to teach them a lesson, I made my final decision." "Just to further enhance your reputation?" "In one word, yes. My reputation keeps us safe, why do you think Xiaofa's father didn't let Xiaofa do anything to you?" "Because I'm a ray of sunshine? Because I make the world a better place?"

Wen smiled, "It seems that you also understand." "Does this sort of thing bother you, Wen?" "What's up?" "Attack someone like you did just now." "They are thugs, Myron, not nuns." "Having said that, after all, you beat them up for no reason." "Oh, I see, you don't like me beating them up, you prefer a fair fight?" "I don't think so, but what if your calculations are wrong?" "It's very unlikely." "What if one of them is tougher than you think and won't be so easy to take down? What if you have to torture or kill them?"

"They are thugs, Myron, not nuns." "Would you do that?" "You know my answer." "I think so." “Who is going to mourn their deaths?” Wen said. “They are just two scumbags who freely chose to make a living of torturing and bullying others.” Myron didn't answer.The train arrived at the station, and the passengers got off one after another. Myron and Wen were still sitting in their seats. "But you are proud of it," said Myron. Wen was silent. "Of course, you have other reasons, but you enjoy violence." "Aren't you, Myron?"

"I'm different from you." "Yeah, not like me, but you get the thrill." "Afterwards, I often feel sick." "Oh, Myron. It's probably because you're a humanitarian." They got out of the subway, came to 161st Street, and walked silently into Yankee Stadium.There are still 4 hours before the start of the game, but there are already hundreds of fans lining up to watch the players warm up.A huge Louisville advertising bat casts a long shadow, and a large number of police officers stand next to a herd of cattle, and the two are in peace.There are some hot dog carts around the stadium, and some have Yoo-Hoo parasols installed, oh, it's really attractive.At the entrance of the media, Myron showed his business card, and after Wei Wei called to confirm, he let them in.

The two of them walked down the stairs on the right, through the stadium tunnel, and immediately saw bright sunlight and green grass.Myron and Wen had been discussing the nature of violence just now, and now Myron remembered Dad's call.Dad was the gentlest man Myron had ever met, and the only time Myron had seen him be violent in all these years was at Yankee Stadium. Myron was 10 years old that year, and his father took him and his 5-year-old brother Brad to watch the game.Dad had already bought four seats in the back row, but at the last moment, one of his business associates gave him two tickets for the third row, just behind the Red Sox bench.Brad was a big Red Sox fan, so Dad suggested that Brad and Myron sit by the dugout and watch a few rounds of batting while Dad stayed in the back row.Myron excitedly took Brad's hand and walked towards the box, heh, this location is really great.

Brad was cheering, yelling with the passion of a 5-year-old, like a little madman.He saw Karl Jastremsky in the batsman's box and yelled, "Yass! Yass!" at the top of his voice. The man sitting in front of them turned his head. He was about 25 years old, with Beard, looks a bit like Jesus in church. "Enough!" Beard yelled at Brad, "Be quiet!" Brad looked aggrieved. "Leave him alone," said Myron, "you have a right to shout." Beard moved quickly, grabbed Myron's shirt, and grabbed the Yankee Stadium logo into a ball with his huge fist. He pulled Myron towards him and yelled drunkenly: "He gave my girlfriend a headache. Immediately!" shut up."

Myron was filled with fear, and fought back the tears welling up in his eyes.He just remembered being terrified and, more importantly, humiliated for some inexplicable reason.Beard glared at Myron for a few more seconds, then pushed him away.Myron took Brad's hand and rushed back to the back row.He tried his best to pretend that nothing happened, but the 10-year-old is really not good at acting, and as a father, he must be able to see through his son's mind, as if he lived in his son's heart. "What happened?" Dad asked. Myron hesitated, and his father asked again, and Myron finally told his father what happened just now.In an instant, some kind of change seemed to have taken place in his father. Myron had never seen his father become like this before, and he never saw him again.Dad's eyes seemed about to explode, his face was flushed, and his eyes were full of anger.

"I'll be right back," Dad said. Myron used a telescope to see what happened next.Dad went to the front row and sat behind the Red Sox dugout, still blushing, and Dad put his hands in the shape of a trumpet around his mouth, leaned forward, and started yelling with all his might.At first, Beard refrained from ignoring him, and Dad leaned into Beard's ear like Mike Tyson, and continued to yell.Finally, Huzi turned around, and what his father did next shocked Myron: he gave Huzi a hard push, twice in a row, then pointed to the exit, using internationally accepted hand gestures, asking his opponent to go outside and have a good talk. talk.Beard refused, and Dad gave him another push.

Two security guards rushed down the steps and pulled the two of them apart without asking them to exit.Dad went back to the back, "You go to the front," Dad said, "he won't bother you anymore." But Myron and Brad shook their heads, they would rather sit in the back row with Dad. Wen said, "What's the matter, have you entered the time tunnel again?" Myron nodded. "You must have realized that you are too young to dwell on memories so often." "Yeah, I know." A group of Yankees sat on the outfield turf, legs stretched, hands behind their backs, like kids squirming for a little league game to start, and a man in a well-fitting suit was addressing them.The man waved his hands excitedly, with a smile on his face, full of enthusiasm, just like the believers on the guillotine who believe in resurrection from the dead are intoxicated by the afterlife.Myron recognized him, and it was Sawyer Wells who was giving this impassioned speech.Two years ago, Wells was an unknown unknown, blah blah blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah. Self-interest is the same.When the Meyers hired him to give speeches to employees, he started to turn around. Although the content of the speech was nothing new, the effect was very significant, and Sawyer Wells became famous almost overnight.Someone started asking him to write a book, and there was a clever title - "The Wells Guide to Wellness" (The Wells Guide to Wellness), and then Wells started recording commercials, tapes, videos, and gradually Formed a theoretical framework, followed by a complete self-help theoretical system, and the top 500 companies in the United States began to invite him to give speeches.After the Meyers acquired the Yankees, they brought him along and gave him a title such as a psychological counseling motivator. When Sawyer Wells saw Wen, he was almost breathless with excitement. "He smelled a new client," Myron said. "Or maybe he's never seen anyone as handsome as me before." "Oh, yes," said Myron, "that's a possibility, too." Wells turned back to his players, waving his hand and shouting some warm, motivating chants, before clapping his hands and saying goodbye.He looked back at Wen, waved vigorously, and came hopping, like a puppy chasing a fresh squeaky toy, or a politician chasing a potential patron. Wen frowned, "Spineless." Myron nodded. "Do you want me to entertain him?" "He should be there when the drug test is done, and he is the team's counselor, and he may have heard a lot of rumors." "Okay," Win said, "you go to Crewe's roommate, and I'll deal with Sawyer." Enos Cabral is a handsome, lean Cuban with a bazooka on his fastball, but his curveball needs work.He is 24 years old, but he still looks childish. Maybe the clerk will think he is not old enough when buying alcohol, and it may not be certain to ask him for a certificate.He stood watching batting practice, his body relaxed except for his mouth.Like most relief bowlers, he chewed his gum or tobacco like a lion on a freshly caught antelope. Myron stepped forward to introduce himself. Enos shook Myron's hand and said, "I know who you are." "Oh?" "Crewe talks about you a lot and he thinks I should sign you." Myron felt a sharp pain in his heart, "Did Crewe say that?" "I thought about changing my agent," Enos went on, "but my agent was nice to me, wasn't he? He made me rich." "I don't want to attack others, Enos, but you are the one who makes you rich. The broker is only a facilitator, he cannot create wealth." Enos nodded, "Do you know my story?" Myron only knew a thing or two about the story of Enos.The voyage was so difficult that for a week everyone thought they were dead in the belly of the fish.When they were finally found, only two of the eight Cubans survived, including Enos' brother Hector, who was considered the best athlete in Cuba for the past 10 years, and the less talented Enos also nearly died from severe dehydration. "I've only seen some in the papers," Myron said. "When I came to the US, my agent was there for me. I have relatives in Miami, and the agent heard about our brother, lent money to my relatives, and paid off our medical bills, Sent me some money, jewelry, a car and promised more money, which I accepted." "So, what's the problem?" "He has no soul." "You want to find a broker with a soul?" Enos shrugged. "I'm a Catholic," he said. "We believe in miracles." Both of them laughed. Enos seemed to be silently looking at Myron, "Crew always doubts others, even me. He always wraps himself in a hard shell." "I know," said Myron. "But he trusted you, he said you were a good man, he said he trusted you with his life and would do it again." Another burst of severe pain hit, "Crewe is not very good at judging personality." "I do not think so." "Enos, I want to talk to you about the last few weeks of Crewe's life." Enos raised one eyebrow, "I thought you were here to win me over." "No," Myron paused, and added, "But, have you ever heard of the idiom 'kill two birds with one stone'?" Enos smiled, "What do you want to know?" "Are you surprised that Crewe failed the drug test?" Enos picked up a bat and kept tightening and loosening it, looking for the best shape.Funny, he's a major league pitcher, but probably never tried to hit a ball. "I don't understand the poison pain thing," he said. "In my hometown, a man may be willing to get drunk, as long as he can pay for the drink. Life is a mess anyway, so what does it matter? But Here, if you have everything Crewe has..." He didn't finish, because there was no need to state the obvious. "Crewe once tried to explain it to me," Enos continued, "and he said, 'Sometimes you don't want to escape from the world, you want to escape from yourself'," he said, throwing his head up. ?” "I don't quite believe it," Myron said. "Like a lot of smart stuff, it sounds good, but it's self-defense." Enos smiled, "You're mad at him." "I think so." "Come on, he's a very unhappy man, Myron. He's a man who needs too many excuses... His heart is broken, isn't he?" Myron didn't speak. "Crewe worked hard, you can't imagine how hard he worked. He stopped going out at night, and if we had a minibar in our room, he would ask the waiter to carry it out. He didn't mess with those old friends anymore, Because he was afraid that he would repeat the same mistakes. He has been in a state of trepidation, he has been working hard, and he has had a hard time." "But in the end he lost himself," Myron added. "I've never seen Crewe do drugs, I've never seen him drink alcohol." "But you noticed some changes in him." Enos nodded. "His life started to fall apart because so many bad things happened." "What the hell?" Suddenly, the organ music became louder, and the legendary Eddie Layton began to perform the classic ballpark song-"Lady Ipanema".Enos raised the bat to his shoulders, then lowered it. "I don't feel comfortable talking about that stuff." "I'm not asking this for fun, I want to find out who killed Crewe." "The newspaper said it was your assistant who did it." "They were wrong." Enos stared at the bat as if there was some secret hidden under the words Louisville.Myron tried to prompt him. "Crew withdrew $200,000 before he died," Myron said. "Did he have financial problems?" "At least I don't know." "Did he gamble?" "No, I haven't seen him gamble." "Did you know he changed his agent?" Enos showed a surprised expression, "He fired you?" "Obviously, he did." "I don't know," said Enos, "I only know that he is looking for you, but not about it." "Why is that, Enos? What broke him down?" Enos raised his head and blinked at the sunlight.The weather was great, perfect for night racing.Soon, fans will be pouring in, filling the stadium and leaving a memory of their own in their hearts.The same story is being played out every day in gymnasiums all over the world. Today, some children will experience their exciting first time. "His marriage," said Enos, "is a very important thing, I think. Do you know Bonnie?" "know." "Crewe loves her very much." "There's something weird about the way he expresses love." Enos laughed. "Sleeping with a lot of women, I think the one who hurts the most from this kind of thing is Crewe himself." "This also sounds like self-defense, Enos. Crewe may have sublimated depravity into an art form, but this is not an excuse for him to betray his wife." "I think Crewe agrees with that. But Crewe hurt himself the most." "Don't lie to yourself, he hurt Bonnie too." "Yes, of course, you're right. But Crewe still loves her, and when Bonnie threw him out of the house he was devastated, you can't imagine." "Do you know why they broke up?" Enos hesitated for a moment, "There is not much to say, Crewe feels that Bonnie has betrayed him, and is very angry." "You know Crewe used to hang around outside too." "yes." "So, is there any difference this time compared to before? Bonnie is used to Crewe's repeated cheating, what made her finally break out? Who is his girlfriend this time?" Enos showed a puzzled look, "You think Bonnie kicked Crewe out of the house because of a woman?" "Isn't it?" Enos shook his head. "You seem sure." "Not women. For Crewe, women are like alcohol and drugs, so easy to give up." Myron was puzzled, "So Crewe didn't cheat?" "Crewe didn't cheat," Enos said. "This time, it was Bonnie." Myron's mind suddenly had a flash of light. He felt a cold current flow through his body, oppressing his stomach. He said goodbye and left in a hurry.