Baseball's Most Scandalous Trade

"It's a valid question. I'm just curious."

"I...I don't know. It doesn't matter. I'm a married woman."

"The times are changing, Mare. The old rules are being stretched and bent every day. Plenty of married people are having sex with others outside of their marriage. It's not all that abnormal anymore."

"It is for me."

"But you didn't answer my question. Do you want to sleep with Mike?"

"I...I don't know. He's very attractive. Would you also sleep with Susanne?"

"In this hypothetical scenario, yes. Would you be okay with that?"

She fanned herself with the palm of her hand. "I don't know, Fritz. This is all so overwhelming."

They met with Mike and Susanne later that evening for dinner at the Steak and Ale in Fort Lee. Mike sat with Marilyn on one side of the table, while Fritz sat with Susanne at the other. All four agreed that it had been fun to spend time with each other's partners the previous night.

"What do you say we do it again?" Fritz suggested.

"What do you mean?" Mike asked.

"I mean, after we finish dinner, Susanne and I will take my car back to my place, and you and Marilyn take your car back to yours. Then we'll meet back at the diner tomorrow morning."

They sat in stunned silence for a moment before Mike spoke. "You mean we stay overnight? At each other's houses?"

Fritz nodded and smiled. "Why not?"

Mike and Susanne exchanged a nervous glance before Mike spoke. "Just so we're clear..."

"Whatever happens, happens," Fritz said. "Look, we all know what's happening here. I mean, let's just address the 900-pound gorilla in the room. The chemical attraction between you and Marilyn is practically glowing. And we all know Susanne and I have a strong connection. We've been joking about this for so long, so why not just go ahead and do it?"

Susanne looked to her husband. "I'm game if you are."

Mike thought for a moment, looking from his wife to the woman seated next to him. "Yeah, okay. Why not?"

"But no jealousy, right?" Fritz interjected. "No hard feelings or drama or anything like that. We just enjoy each other's company and have fun, okay?"

The four co-conspirators agreed and clinked their glasses above the table to make their decision official. After dinner, Fritz and Susanne departed, leaving Mike and Marilyn alone. Upon arriving at his house, Fritz greeted his nanny at the front door. As he paid her for the night, she looked with confusion at Susanne and repeatedly glanced at the front door, expecting Marilyn to arrive at any moment. She left with the same look of confusion.

"I think poor Esmerelda is a little—"

Before he could finish the sentence, Susanne kissed him. He returned her kiss with great intensity. Their kiss lingered for a long while before she broke away.

"I've wanted to do that for so long," she confessed.

"Me, too," he replied.

They embraced and kissed once again while their hands explored each other's body. Fritz suddenly broke away and looked about the house.

"The kids have been asleep for hours," he said, "but I don't want to take any chances. What do you say we move to the bedroom?"

The bedroom door had barely closed when their lips met once more. They fumbled with each other's clothing. He raised her blouse over her head while she wrestled with his belt buckle. She freed his hard cock and dropped to her knees to take it in her mouth.

"Oh!" he whispered. "Oh, wow!"

It wasn't long before she sensed he was about to burst. She rose to her feet and kissed him. "I need you inside me," she said.

They tore at their clothing as they made their way toward the bed. He lay on top of her and kissed her as she guided him inside her. She gasped and moaned and clawed his back. He entered her fully and held himself there, pausing for a moment to look in her eyes. Her beautiful hazel eyes sparkled in the moonlight that slipped through the gap in the curtains.

Their bodies moved together in perfect symmetry, like a choreographed dance. His gentle touch and loving caress was so foreign to her, it stood in stark contrast to her husband's rough-and-hard bedroom style. He continued to tease and tantalize her until she couldn't take any more.

"Fuck me," she whispered. "Fuck me hard."

He did as she pleased, and soon the bed springs sang beneath their bodies until, at last, their song came to an end. He remained on top of her, still inside of her, breathing heavily. He kissed her lips, and then her neck.

"That was incredible," he said.

"Mmm-hmm," she purred.

Across town, Mike lay on top of Marilyn, thrusting hard and fast into her. Her mouth was agape and her eyes wide open. He suddenly pulled out and forcefully flipped her around onto all fours. He entered her from behind and continued fucking her with lustful intensity.

"Oh my god!" she said in a loud whisper.

"You like that?" he growled. "You like my hard cock?"

"Yes," she said. "Yes, I do."

"You want it harder?"

"Yes."

"Then tell me. Tell me to fuck you harder."

"Please. Fuck me harder."

He grabbed a handful of her hair and pulled it toward him as he fucked her as hard as he could. Their flesh collided again and again until he loudly groaned and held himself deep inside her before collapsing onto the mattress in a sweaty mass.

She rolled onto her back and felt a warm rivulet between her legs, soaking the sheet beneath her. They lay together for a moment, panting for breath.

"That was different," she remarked.

He laughed. "A good different, I hope."

She nodded vigorously. "Yes, definitely a good different." She placed her head on his chest, and he wrapped his arm around her and pulled her to him.

October 4, 1972

Fritz and Mike sat side-by-side in the dugout, watching their team lose its fifth game in a row to end the season. Barely five thousand fans bothered to attend. Although it had been a bleak and mostly joyless year for the team, on a personal level, the events of the summer could not have unfolded better for either one of them. They continued trading spouses throughout the summer and found that all four partners were happier than they had ever been before.

Mike and Marilyn carried on their passionate affair and grew closer both inside and outside of the bedroom. Marilyn discovered that she enjoyed playing a more submissive role in the bedroom, which was brought forth by Mike's more dominant bedroom personality. Susanne and Fritz enjoyed a more loving and passionate relationship and connected in a way they had never connected with anyone before.

After one particularly passionate romp in bed, Susanne confessed to Fritz that she had fallen in love with him. To her relief, he echoed that sentiment. Later, Fritz spoke to his wife about it, and was brutally honest about his feelings for Susanne. She confessed that she and Mike had developed feelings for each other as well. By the end of the summer, it had become obvious to all four that they were happier with each other's partners.

Mike and Fritz showered and dressed quickly after the game. They then took Mike's car together to join their wives at Mike's house. When they arrived, they were greeted with warm embraces and cold beers. They cooked dinner together and pretended as though it were just another typical evening. As the sun set, however, the mood grew far more serious.

With their children playing in the living room, the adults gathered around the kitchen table. They were silent for quite a while before Mike spoke first.

"I'm gonna miss you guys," he said to Fritz and Marilyn. "It's been an amazing summer. One I'll never forget."

"I couldn't agree more," Fritz said. He waited a beat before adding, "But who says it has to end now?"

Mike and Susanne exchanged a look of confusion. "We're scheduled to fly back to California on Friday, Fritz. You know that, right?"

"Yeah, I know," Fritz responded. "I'm just saying, it doesn't have to end unless we want it to end."

"What are you suggesting?" Susanne asked.

Fritz took a swig of beer before he responded. "Look, let's just state the obvious, okay? Susanne and I have been getting along really well, and so have you and Marilyn, right, Mike?"

Mike nodded and smiled at Marilyn.

"What if we traded places on a more permanent basis?" Fritz asked the group.

Only the squeals of the children from the other room could be heard as the group contemplated. At last, Marilyn spoke. "How permanent are we talking?"

Fritz took another sip of his beer. "Let's say we make it a month. At the end of the month, we'll decide if we want to make it permanent - for good. I'm proposing the greatest baseball trade of all time!"

"What if we decide we don't want to make it permanent?" Mike asked.

"Then we call it off," Fritz said. "If any one of us decides to back out, then we all back out. Either all four of us are in agreement or we don't do it. Plain and simple."

"This is a big decision," Mike said after an extended period of silence.

"Big risk, big reward," Fritz said with a grin.

"What will we tell the kids?" Susanne asked.

"The truth," Fritz said. "There's no reason to lie to them. We're not doing anything wrong. We're all happier this way. Kids want to live in a happy household, right? If we all agree to this, then let's huddle the kids together now and tell them what's going on. They're too young to really understand, anyway. Greg and Kristen start first grade next fall, so it's not like we'd be tearing them away from their schools and their friends. When you think about it, this is the perfect time to do this. It's like all the stars in the universe have aligned just for this to happen."

They exchanged nervous glances before agreeing to the arrangement. "I'm excited about this," Susanne declared. "I really think this is going to work out so well for all of us!"

"To the future!" Mike declared, clinking his beer can with Marilyn's. She smiled and nodded toward her husband.

December 14, 1972

Their month-long arrangement was extended, as their travel arrangements were delayed by various personal matters. By the time they criss-crossed the country again to rejoin their original partners, both Mike and Fritz began to feel like strangers in their own homes. At night, they felt awkward sliding into bed next to their own spouses. "It feels like I'm cheating on Susanne," Fritz confessed one night. Marilyn agreed that it felt strange.

"I'm sorry, Mare," Fritz said one night, "but I just have to be with Susanne."

"It's okay," she responded. "I know how you feel. I'm in love with Mike."

A few expensive cross-country phone calls verified that all four spouses agreed that they were happier with their new arrangements. Mike proposed that their oldest children should stay with their fathers, but that idea was vetoed by all three of the other spouses. "Siblings need to stay together," Marilyn insisted.

In the end, Susanne and her two girls were flown to New Jersey, while Marilyn and her two boys flew to California. "You'll love it there," Fritz told his boys. "It's warm all year 'round! You can play ball all year! And Mike is so much stronger than me, and can throw so much faster. He can teach you how to throw just as fast."

Mike had a much more difficult time saying goodbye to his daughters. "Fritz is a lot of fun," he said. "You girls will have so much fun in New Jersey. It snows there in the winter, so you can go sledding, build a snowman, and maybe even go skiing. But I will miss you SO much. And I will always be there for you, okay? I will always be your dad, no matter what."

"I called my agent," Fritz told Susanne. "His attorney told him that in the state of New Jersey, all we need to do is prove separation for a year in order to file for divorce. We can file under 'no fault', so no grounds are required. We can be divorced by October and married by November."

Ten days after their official swap, Fritz sat on the couch with his arm wrapped around Susanne. In his free hand, he held a warm mug of hot chocolate. They listened to Nat King Cole's "A Christmas Song" while admiring their Christmas tree and the dancing flames in their fireplace.

"I don't think I've ever been happier than I am right now," Fritz remarked.

Susanne smiled and kissed him. "Mmm. Same with me."

"I feel like I'm free for the first time in my life. No mother telling me what to do. No wife telling me what to do."

"I know," she said. "I feel the same way. Like I can be myself now."

He kissed her softly, and she melted into his arms.

"Do you think it's time to start playing Santa?" she asked.

"Let's give it another minute," he said. He pulled her close to him and inhaled the sweet scent of her perfume.

Three thousand miles away, Marilyn wept in the shadow of her Christmas tree. Mike tried to console her, but she pushed him away. "Not right now," she said. "I just need a minute, okay?"

"Okay," he said. She hadn't been acting normally since she moved back in. She said she felt like a guest in a stranger's house, but yet she ordered him around as if he were her servant. The fun-loving woman he had known for so long had been replaced with an authoritarian.

She constantly badgered him about the smallest infractions. He left the toilet seat up. He left his dirty socks and underwear on the floor. He didn't rinse his dish before putting it in the sink. He didn't help her enough with the boys. He didn't discipline them correctly when they misbehaved. It seemed as though he could do nothing right.

"I just think it's time we put out the gifts," he said. "You know, from Santa."

"You do it," she said.

February 1, 1973

"Fritz, it's Marilyn."

"Yeah, hi, Mare. What's up?"

There was a long pause before she spoke. "I want to come home."

Fritz paused just as long. "Mare, you are home. You're with our boys in your new home. It's just gonna take some time to get used to it."

"I don't want to get used to it. I don't like it here. I want things to go back to the way they were."

"Mare...sweetie...we can't do that. The girls are finally adjusted to their new home. They like it here. They have friends. We're all really happy with the way things are."

"You're happy, but I'm not. I don't want to do this anymore, Fritz. No one in my family has ever been divorced. I don't want to be the first. You said if any of us wanted out, we would call it off. Well, I want out. Call it off."

"It's too late now, Mare. We're too far into this. I'm sorry."

February 17, 1973

Mike sat at his locker, hunched over, with his face in his hands. He rubbed his temples, but it didn't help alleviate the pounding pain. Thankfully, he was nowhere near Fritz's locker. He had asked the clubhouse boy to move him as far away as possible.

He thought of Marilyn. She and the boys had moved in with her mother in Illinois. He was confident she would eventually change her mind and give him another chance, but yet he had a strange feeling that he had permanently blown whatever chance he ever had to be with her.

The problem was that they were too alike. He was stubborn, and so was she. He wanted to be in charge, and so did she - at least, outside of the bedroom. In fact, the bedroom was the only room of the house where they seemed to really connect. He thought that would be enough of a foundation to build upon, but it turned out he was wrong.

A distinguished-looking, portly, gentleman suddenly burst into the locker room and strutted along one row of lockers to the other, shaking the players' hands and wishing them luck in the coming season. He wore a three-piece suit that looked as though it had cost a year's salary. A young, college-aged, kid scurried closely behind him as he prowled, scribbling notes on a pad of paper. "Stottlemyre. Munson. Peterson. Dobson," the man barked to the kid.

He stopped at Mike's locker and seemed to inspect him as if he were a specimen in a lab. He glanced at the name tag above his locker. "Kekich," the man said before waddling to the next player.

"Who the fuck is that?" Mike asked the club's trainer. "He struts around here like he owns the place."

"He does," said Gene. "That's our new boss. He just bought this club for around $10 million. Some ship builder from Cleveland."

"He bought this dumpster fire?" Mike snorted. "I'll give him a week. Why the hell is he writing my name down?"

"Rumor has it, he doesn't like long hair and beards."

Mike scratched at his week-long growth. He hadn't grown it out intentionally, but now it felt rebellious.

At the other end of the locker room, Ralph stood next to one of his coaches and surveyed the scene. He puffed on his cigar and blew a dark cloud above him. "Look at this guy," he said, motioning toward the new owner. "He's so worried about facial hair, yet he has no idea what else is going on in this clubhouse."

The rumors had spread quickly. Throughout the first few days of spring training, it became obvious that Mike and Fritz were no longer speaking to each other. They had been so close the previous season, they may as well have been joined at the hip. That spring, they hadn't said a word to each other.

Fueling the rumors even further, Fritz had been seen in the player's parking lot kissing Susanne Kekich. Fritz's wife, Marilyn, was nowhere to be seen. Rumors of their unholy arrangement soon reached the media. With few newsworthy stories coming out of Yankees spring training camp, the marital statuses of the Petersons and Kekiches soon became a hot topic of gossip.

After one afternoon's workout had concluded, a clubhouse boy handed a note to both Fritz and Mike. An hour later, they arrived in the manager's office together. In addition to Ralph, General Manager Lee MacPhail was also in attendance.

"Take a seat, fellas," Ralph said.

They took the only two seats available in front of Ralph's massive desk. He took an extended drag on his cigar before he spoke again. "Listen, fellas, the rumors are all over the place. You tell me. What's going on?"

Fritz and Mike glanced at each other before Fritz spoke. "It's true, but it's not like you think. There's nothing weird or gross or perverted about it, okay? We haven't done anything wrong."

"No one's saying you did," Lee interjected. "We just need to be sure that our team's image isn't tarnished. You understand."

"Yeah, I get it," Fritz said. "Again, there is nothing sordid about this. We have done this totally above the board, okay? We're getting divorced in October. Then it'll all be legal."

"Are you saying you're doing something illegal now?" Lee asked.

"No, sir," Fritz responded.

"Is this going to affect your play on the field?" Lee asked. "Can you two still function as teammates?"

Fritz and Mike exchanged a brief glance. "In here, we're teammates," Mike said. "When I play ball, I play ball. It's all business. Whatever happens off the field doesn't affect me in here."

Lee and Ralph conferred for a moment before Ralph spoke. "Listen, people live their own lives and you two got a lot of years to live. You only go through this crazy world once. Why go through it miserable? Some people say you have to stay together for the sake of the kids. I've seen people living together and they're practically separated. That ain't any good for the kids. I say you do what's best for you, and the kids will be better for it. I don't have any problem with what you two are doing, as long as it doesn't affect your play on the field. But you both need to get out in front of this story before the media gets carried away with it."

March 4, 1973

Mike stood at a lectern facing a room full of reporters. He cleared his throat and spoke into the microphone.

"Thank you all for coming. I know there are a lot of rumors floating around, so I want to address that today. What you have heard is true. Over the off-season, Fritz Peterson and I swapped families. Our wives and kids, and even our dogs. His family moved to my home in California, and my family moved in with him. Don't make anything sordid out of this, okay? We didn't swap wives. We swapped lives."