Page 18 of The Yips

Sam: Are you flying back on Friday?

Me: Yes, late Friday afternoon…

Sam: Whatever you need while you’re there, please don’t hesitate to ask.

Me: Monica helped a LOT. I won’t need to worry about much while I’m there.

Sam: She’ll also have basic staples delivered to your suite. If she hasn’t asked, send her what you like for snacks and beverages.

Me: Oh. Do you do anything for yourself?

Shit, Kelsey, that sounded rude.

Me: That’s not how I meant it.

Me: I just meant that Monica takes care of so much.

Sam: It’s okay. I travel a lot, and I need to focus on the game. She handles these things so I can get my luggage, eat properly, and make it to the game on time. Travel, especially between time zones, can throw your body off. The team handles a lot of the arrangements, but Monica fills in the gaps.

Me: Thank you for everything. I’m feeling a lot less nervous after talking to her.

Sam: No, thank you. I am pulling both of you out of your routine. This is nothing.

CHAPTER 16

Sam

My phone vibrated, indicating a text message, and I smiled when I saw Kelsey’s name on the notification. She had been researching baseball and its rules, trying to gain a better understanding of them before the next game. I appreciated her effort, and her questions were adorable.

Kelsey: You’re going to face Nick Ramon in Minneapolis?

Me: Yes. I’ll likely pitch to him three, maybe four times.

Kelsey: He’s got twenty home runs already. Are you nervous?

I can’t tell you how much it meant that she had tried to understand the game and looked up my opponent. Earlier, she had asked about my screwball, which is not a pitch I’d ever thrown in a professional game, nor was it used much in modern baseball. I was thankful I didn’t react toher question in person because if I had laughed at her, she might not have had the confidence to keep asking questions.

Me: When you face a batter that good, you can’t make a mistake. They won’t miss it.

Kelsey: I used to think pitchers threw every pitch as hard as possible and aimed for strikes. I’m surprised you have to be smart about it, too. Have you ever intentionally hit a batter?

Me: Officially? No. Unofficially, yes.

Kelsey: Is it because you were pissed when B.K. Ramirez got three hits off you in one game.

I smiled to myself. She had done more than a little bit of research. Last year, I had hit Ramirez with a pitch, causing him to charge the mound. The catcher in that game had jumped in to stop the fight, and Ramirez had been ejected. The umpires hadn’t thought I had done it intentionally, though I had been trying to get him to back off the plate.

Me: My fastball averages 102 mph; I would never intentionally hit someone with that pitch. Maybe another one, though. But I sometimes need to keep the batter from crowding the plate by pushing them back. That time, my execution was a little off.

My father’s reputation as a pitcher included many hit batters; he was known for being aggressive and not afraid to injure a batter to get an edge. I did what I could to be a different player and tried to play a clean game to avoid comparisons to Sam Sr. every chance possible. After that game, he had called me,elated that I had played dirty and gotten away with it. He didn’t believe me when I said it was unintentional.

Kelsey: Are you already in Minneapolis?

Me: Yes. We arrived this morning. I had Monica pick up a hat for you and Crew. You both might need the visor.

Kelsey: Oh, thank you. I was going to have him wear a plain hat.

Me: It will be nice to see some Minutemen hats in the sea of Twin’s hats. Could you please text me when you arrive? I may not be able to get back to you right away. We don’t use our phones during the game.

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