Page 11 of Love in Pieces

Dallas

Shouting in the lockerroom echoes down the hall to the exit door. The hinges squeal behind me as Logan and I make our way toward the rest of the team. Our last game of the season starts in less than two hours. To say I’m nervous is an understatement. I’ve been hoping to stand out to the scouts each game. Winning this game guarantees us a spot in the tournament, which tends to be an integral step in continuing your baseball career. Don’t get me wrong. I would be thrilled if I became a pediatric physical therapist after college but getting to play ball as a profession is an absolute dream.

My freshman year of college, I was dead set on majoring in math. I was my favorite subject in school growing up. I was thinking about being a high school math teacher. And then I took an anatomy class in my sophomore year of college, and I fell even more in love with the science behind the human body, the way things moved and why. That’s how I ended up changing my major to physical therapy. I think it’s also fitting with the whole baseball thing I have going on, too. I love the physicality of the sport and in general, baseball is just something I grew up enjoying due to my dad’s obsession with it. But getting drafted into the MLB is such a one in a million shot that I’m still not certain anything will come of it.

And now I’m still torn, still not sure which one to choose. But I don’t want to make that choice before I get offered a spot on a team,ifI get offered a spot.

When I get to the end of the locker room hall, I see Dante standing on a bench. “Losing is not an option tonight! We play strong! We play tough! We crush those Jaguars!” Everyone cheers and pounds on the lockers. Dante sees me walk through the door. “Now, without further ado, your team captain!” He points and offers the spot on the bench to me.

I laugh but take my makeshift throne. “No pressure or anything, but uh ...” I pause. “I think this game is a big deal.” I shrug nonchalantly. Everyone cheers again. “Let’s kick some Jaguar ass!” I pump a fist in the air, and my teammates follow suit, whipping their towels in circles.

Once everyone is on the field, we begin practice: hitting balls, running bases, catching pop flies. I take a moment to check the bleachers to see if Aubrey decided to show up. To my surprise and immense relief, she isn’t in the crowd in her usual spot. I look around to see where my dad is sitting. He’s been coming to every game since I was in tee ball. He usually sits right next to the dugout, but I don’t see his familiar brown suit. That’s odd. He has missed a few games and practices in the last month. I’ve assumed he’s been busy with work, but I didn’t expect him to miss this one. I push the thought from my head, refocusing on the task at hand. The school song plays as each player takes their position. Connor steps up to the plate, bat hovering over his right shoulder. The first pitch is thrown, and he makes a solid connection sending it far into left field, almost a home run.

The innings pass quickly without any score. When the away team hits a home run with one on base, the sixth inning pushes the Jaguars into the lead.

Coach Charlie shouts from the sidelines at the team, telling everyone to move their feet quicker and get that glove positioned faster. In the seventh inning, we manage to fill the bases, taking the lead with a 3-2 score, a winning score if we can hold them here. The final inning approaches and Coach Charlie calls us to the pitching mound before starting.

“All right, guys. This is it. This is our chance to keep the lead and take this spot in the tournament. I know you can do it. So, whatever it is you have going on in your head that isn’t this game, put it aside. This is what matters right now. Okay? You’ve got this.”

Coach puts his gloveless hand in the middle of our huddle. Everyone releases with a “Go team!”

With two men on base and two outs, the away team sets up at home plate, preparing to take the win. The batter takes an extra practice swing before readying himself. I give a few hand signals to Dante, but he turns them all down. Finally, I flash him the signal for the curveball from our last scrimmage. He gives me a knowing smile and nods.

The entire field and everyone on the bleachers go silent, waiting in anticipation for the next, and hopefully, final play.

As I dig my feet firmly into the red aggregate, I brace my glove in the middle of the strike zone, preparing for Dante’s nasty curveball. He winds up, takes a deep breath, and releases. I brace for impact and when the ball hits the sweet spot in my glove, the crowd goes wild. I stand up with my glove in the air and run to the pitcher’s mound to join my team in the excitement.

We made it. This dream of mine is slowly coming to fruition. I never imagined I’d get to keep playing baseball after college, but it might actually be happening. Last year we also made it to the NCAA, but we only made it two games into the tournament before we lost our placement. This year, we have a better lineup of players.

I ride the high of the win all the way to work. When my sister’s name pops up on my phone just before I pull into the parking lot, I answer quickly, excited to share the news with her.

“Hey, Dal,” Rose greets, but not with her usual pep.

“Hey, guess what?” I start, hoping she joins in on my excitement.

“What? Wait, did you win?” she squeaks on the other end. “You had your final game today, right?”

“We won!” I almost shout. I pull into my usual parking spot at the back of the lot. It’s already packed. I’m shocked I’ve managed to get a spot, but most people don’t like parking behind the building. College students flock to the door where Craig stands prepared to keep the underage kids from getting in.

“So, you got a spot in the tournament, right?”

“Yeah! Hopefully, we make it further than we did last year.”

“That’s awesome, Dal.” She pauses.

I can tell she has something else on her mind but doesn’t know how to broach the subject. “What going on? I know you didn’t call for this.”

She sighs on the other end. “I just don’t know what to do about Mom and Dad. They just don’t seem to be getting better. I thought this would blow over, but they are still fighting constantly. I realize it’s probably not my place to try to do anything about the issue, but I can’t help but wonder what’s really going on. It’s so frustrating living in this house. Plus, Dad keeps leaving for longer and longer periods of time. He claims he’s been staying in a hotel and working a lot.”

“I hear you. I talked to Mom yesterday, but Dad hasn’t talked to me since Tuesday. He usually asks about my games, and I figured he would have been at today’s game, but he didn’t, and he wasn’t. I was a little surprised.”

“Weird. He goes to all of your games,” she comments.

“I know. I don’t know. Maybe he’s just stressed.” I pause. “Any idea what might be wrong?” I ask, hoping she has some insight.

“Nothing. I wish I had an answer for you. I hope this isn’t about Cole. Ever since he died, they’ve been so distant from each other.”

I really hope this isn’t about Cole. My younger brother, Rose’s twin brother, died in a drunk driving accident a year ago. That was the same day I found out my girlfriend had cheated on me with him. It was a rough day, to say the least. Rose seemed to have the hardest time with it. Those two never left each other’s sides. Except for that night. Rose decided to go home early, but Cole didn’t want to leave yet.

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