Steve Rogers, aka Captain America (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
stark_spangled) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
ten_fwd2015-03-31 10:42 pm
stark_spangled) wrote in ten_fwd2015-03-31 10:42 pm
Entry tags:
[Holodeck 5:] Buy me some peanuts and crackerjacks... [for whathemademe but OTA]
Keeping track of the seasons isn't always easy, but Steve knows the date here is for the end of March, and even if the calendar back home says "April" that still means one thing.
Baseball season.
He hasn't used the holodecks in a while. Akito has been taking up a lot of his free time, and while he's fine with that the kid has started getting on his case about brooding too much. Peggy's been gone for a month now. She's probably not walking through his door again, and that's a good thing -- for her. It just reminds him of what he's missing.
To stave off any ill-conceived attempts to set him up on dates or push him around to other people, Steve has left Akito to his own devices for a few hours. He didn't really have a goal in mind when he ended up at the holodeck. He thought maybe he'd stop in Ten Forward for something to eat, but his feet just kept going after he reached the lounge, and didn't stop until he was standing in front of the computer panel currently telling him the holodeck was vacant. He frowns for a few minutes.
"Computer, um. Are there any baseball fields on file?" he asks. The computer gives him an affirmative answer, and starts listing off more baseball fields than he knows what to do with. "Whoa, wait. Uh, sorry. How about Ebbets Field?" Another affirmative, and another long list of options. Steve rubs the back of his neck. "OK. Ebbets Field, Flatbush, New York, Earth, around the year..."
He thinks back over some of the games he's seen, but he doesn't feel up to taking a walk down memory lane tonight. He's tempted to ask about the 1920 World Series, but as he's forming the words another thought occurs to him. "April 15, 1947. Jackie Robinson's first game with the Dodgers."
There is another affirmative chirp, and at last the Computer says, "You may enter when ready." Steve pockets his hands and steps inside the holodeck doors, and with such shocking clarity it almost knocks the wind out of him he finds himself in the bleachers at Ebbets Field, just as he remembers it.
Baseball season.
He hasn't used the holodecks in a while. Akito has been taking up a lot of his free time, and while he's fine with that the kid has started getting on his case about brooding too much. Peggy's been gone for a month now. She's probably not walking through his door again, and that's a good thing -- for her. It just reminds him of what he's missing.
To stave off any ill-conceived attempts to set him up on dates or push him around to other people, Steve has left Akito to his own devices for a few hours. He didn't really have a goal in mind when he ended up at the holodeck. He thought maybe he'd stop in Ten Forward for something to eat, but his feet just kept going after he reached the lounge, and didn't stop until he was standing in front of the computer panel currently telling him the holodeck was vacant. He frowns for a few minutes.
"Computer, um. Are there any baseball fields on file?" he asks. The computer gives him an affirmative answer, and starts listing off more baseball fields than he knows what to do with. "Whoa, wait. Uh, sorry. How about Ebbets Field?" Another affirmative, and another long list of options. Steve rubs the back of his neck. "OK. Ebbets Field, Flatbush, New York, Earth, around the year..."
He thinks back over some of the games he's seen, but he doesn't feel up to taking a walk down memory lane tonight. He's tempted to ask about the 1920 World Series, but as he's forming the words another thought occurs to him. "April 15, 1947. Jackie Robinson's first game with the Dodgers."
There is another affirmative chirp, and at last the Computer says, "You may enter when ready." Steve pockets his hands and steps inside the holodeck doors, and with such shocking clarity it almost knocks the wind out of him he finds himself in the bleachers at Ebbets Field, just as he remembers it.
no subject
"Yeah," he says, one corner of his mouth ticking upward. "First game. Are you a fan?"
Of Robinson or of baseball in general, Steve doesn't bother to clarify. This guy at least knows something about baseball, and that has Steve relaxing his defenses and settling back in his seat again. He won't ask how, since he wouldn't have pegged him for someone almost 50 years into the 20th century, but Steve's got his own problems when it comes to being a man out of time.
no subject
Still clasping his beers, he takes one swig from each in the same breadth. Jim is very much the real deal.
"And Robinson's a great man and a great ballplayer."