"We're waiting for you inside," Lundquist said.
Great, Rizzotti thought; what'd I do now?
Dusty Wathan, the Threshers' manager, was sitting behind his desk when Rizzotti walked in. He rolled a baseball across the desk toward Rizzotti.
"Promise me something," he said to Rizzotti.
"What?" Rizzotti asked as he caught the ball.
"Promise me that's your last hit in A ball."
Rizzotti paused. It didn't register.
"All right, man. Cool," Rizzotti replied, his mind hazy: Is he trying to say . . .
Wathan realized the disconnect.
"Yeah. Because you're going to Double A tomorrow," Wathan said.
Rizzotti replied, "Bleep off."
Rizzotti rose and left the office. In the hall, he waited a few moments.
He peeked his head back around the door and said: "Lundy. Is he serious?"
Lundquist was stunned at Rizzotti's reaction, and, finally, replied, "Yeaah."
Sometimes, the best joke is no joke at all.
A 6-5, 235-pound, lefthanded, 24-year-old hit man with a 44-year-old's hairline, Matt Rizzotti finds life's little challenges amusing. With a smart-aleck, New York City wit, he wants to share his mirth.
In 2009, he found himself hanging on too tightly. Every time he stepped into the batter's box he wanted to hit the ball so hard it landed back home in Long Island. With feet of clay and hands of stone - or so say the scouts - Rizzotti knew he would have to hack a path to the majors.
He relaxed, and he's hacking like crazy now: .358 in 31 games at Clearwater, .362 with 16 homers and 61 RBI in 76 games at Double A Reading, .300 in his first 10 games with Triple A Lehigh Valley.
He recalls Ryan Howard, the injured Phillies first baseman who scorched through the minors 6 years ago as an older prospect who took time to get hot. Howard now blocks Rizzotti's path to the majors.
