Page 33 of Fastball Fever
"No, not at all.Any kid as brave as August deserves a little something special."I bend forward until my head touches his."How would you like to throw a pitch with me?All your friends will be super jealous."
August grins again."Please, please!Let's do it!"
With the kid in my arms, we both wind our arms back together, his small hand nestled inside mine.The ball feels right between our shared grip.The crowd goes wild as we launch the ball toward the plate—not the fastest pitch of my career, but definitely the most meaningful.
"Strike!"the umpire calls, playing along perfectly.He even waves at August.
The kid erupts into cheers, bouncing in my arms."We did it!We threw a strike!Can't wait to tell Dad about it."
Now the entire stadium is on their feet, clapping and cheering—even some of the opposing team.Everyone except Jared, that is, who leans against the dugout rail with a sour expression.Guess that jackoff won't give up his hatred of me even for a kid with cancer.
"That's my boy," August's mother says, tears glistening in her eyes as I set him down.She whispers to me, "Thank you."
I wink—and she kisses my cheek.In a chaste way, naturally.
Amy leads August and his mom back to the dugout, but not before giving me a look that makes my heart skip.Pride, warmth, and something deeper that I can't quite name.It's almost like she's seeing a different side of me—not just the pitcher with a wicked fastball, but something more.
When I turn back to the mound, I'm suddenly laser focused thanks to August Murphy.I'll win this game for him.The crowd noise fades to a distant hum as I glance toward Morris, who's now pacing in the opposite dugout.For once, his taunts can't penetrate my concentration.
My next pitch is a screamer.The batter doesn't even swing—just watches it sail past.
"Strike one!"The umpire's call rings clear across the diamond.
I catch the return throw, roll my shoulders, and reset.August is watching from the dugout, his small face pressed against the chain link.I'm not just throwing for me anymore.I'm throwing for him, for all these kids who need heroes to believe in.
Jared gives an exaggerated eye roll.
Oh, I want to pitch the ball straight at his smug face instead of the plate.Yeah, okay, I won't kick Jared in the balls—today.
I turn back to the batter.The kid's maybe eighteen, wearing an Admirals jersey that hangs off his thin frame.His arms look like twigs, but his eyes are fierce with determination.
"You got this," I mouth to him, nodding encouragingly.
Then I wind up and deliver a pitch with just enough speed to challenge the kid without overwhelming him.He connects with a solid crack that sends the ball sailing over the shortstop's head.The crowd erupts as he takes off running, his face split with a grin so wide it must hurt.
"That's it!Go, go, go!"I find myself shouting, pumping my fist as he rounds first base.
Amy gives me a thumbs-up sign and mouths, "Fastball fever!"
Her expression is filled with…love.
And suddenly, I feel ten feet tall.I'm not just Charlie Braddock, struggling pitcher trying to make a comeback.I'm August's hero.And maybe, just maybe, I'm worthy of that look Amy just gave me.
Another batter approaches the plate.I wind up again and deliver a fastball that sings through the air, popping into the catcher's mitt with a satisfying thwack.
"Strike one!"
The crowd roars.I can pick out August's voice among them, squealing with delight.I glance at the radar gun: 98 mph.Not bad for a charity game.
"Lucky pitch," Jared calls from the dugout."Let's see you do it again, has-been!"
I ignore him, focusing on the feel of the ball in my hand, the weight of it against my fingertips.The seams are perfect ridges beneath my skin.The smell of freshly cut grass, the hot dogs from the concession stand, and the faint scent of chalk from the baselines grounds me to this moment.
My next pitch is even faster.The batter swings—a second too late.
"Strike two!"
The crowd is on their feet now.I can see August jumping up and down, his small hands pumping the air.His parents are beaming, their arms around each other, watching their son experience pure joy.For a moment, I forget about my failed marriage, about Alicia leaving, about all the nights I spent wondering if I'd ever find my way back to the mound.
