Page 65 of Fastball Fever
"I know."Can't believe it myself, but the reality will sink in soon enough.We did it.The Admirals are World Series champions.Still reeling from the news, I drag Amy into my arms and spin her round and round.Once I finally set her down, I have to ask."Did I smash the fastball record?"
Just then, Phil and Ray come racing out of the dugout toward us.They must have news.Right?But before they can reach us, the announcer tells me what I've been waiting to hear.
"Ladies and gentlemen!Quiet please!"
An eerie hush fills the whole stadium, as if everyone is holding their breath.
"It's just been confirmed!"the announcer declares.He pauses to take a big breath that's audible through his mic."Charlie Braddock's fastball clocked in at 101.3 miles per hours!It's a new world record!"
Holy shit.
The announcer comes on again."Sorry, folks, I got so worked up about Charlie's accomplishment that I almost forgot to tell you…the Admirals have won the World Series!"
Chapter Thirty-Two
Winners Take All
The stadium erupts yet again in a new frenzy that seems to vibrate through the air, and my teammates pile on me for a second time.This moment—this perfect, crystal-clear moment—is everything I've worked for since the day I first picked up a bat in Little League.Years of training, of pushing my body to its limits—of weathering slumps, injuries, doubts, and Jared's mind games—everything has led to this, the pinnacle of my career.
"You did it, Charlie!"Amy's voice cuts through the noise, and her eyes shimmer with tears of joy."You beat them all—Chapman, Ryan, and most importantly, that bastard Morris."
I pull her close, breathing in her familiar scent."Wedid it, baby.Couldn't have done it without you."
Over her shoulder, I spot Jared being ushered toward the locker rooms, his shoulders slumped in defeat.Our eyes meet for one final time, and I can't help the surge of satisfaction that courses through me.For years, he's been the thorn in my side that kept pricking me, trying to make me doubt myself.It never worked until the day Jared wrecked my shoulder.But tonight, all the keeps running through my mind is that epic pitch and the roar of victory in my ears.I'm finally free of his shadow.
Jared pauses at the tunnel entrance, his expression unreadable from this distance.Then he's gone, swallowed by the darkness.
"Charlie!Charlie!"The fans are chanting my name in a rhythmic pulse.I raise my hands high, waving as I acknowledge them, letting their energy crash over me.
Coach Rivera claps me on the shoulder."That was some of the finest hitting I've ever seen, son."
I can't move or speak, still processing what just happened."The ball…it felt so right."
"It's not the ball," Amy whispers, her fingers twining with mine."The power was inside you all along."
The team hoists me onto their shoulders, and somebody hands me a torpedo bat that I clutch in my hand like a trophy, raising it high.
"Speech!Speech!"someone shouts, and soon the entire stadium takes up the chant.
I shake my head, laughing."Put me down, you animals.You know I suck at making speeches."
But they insist, and soon I'm standing on the dugout steps as twilight begins to paint the sky with vivid colors.The floodlights come on, making me squint as I face the sea of blue and white—Admirals colors worn proudly by thousands.Somebody shoves a mic in front of me, ensuring my awkward speech will be heard by everyone.
"I, uh—" My voice cracks, and I clear my throat."Baseball's always been my language.Not sermons from the mound."
The crowd laughs, patiently waiting.
Amy comes up beside me, handing me a ball, and suddenly, I find the right words."Eight months ago, I couldn't even grip a ball or a bat without pain shooting up my arm.Some people—including me—thought I was done for."I pause, glancing at the torpedo bat in my left hand and the ball in my right palm."But this team, this city, and especially this woman right here, they refused to let me believe that."
The crowd shouts their approval as I squeeze Amy's hand.She beams up at me, pride etched across her features.
"Tonight wasn't just about beating Jared Morris."I speak his name clearly, without flinching."It was about proving that setbacks don't define us.The comeback does."
I survey the faces of my teammates, all grinning like idiots.
"So thank you, Jacksonville.Thank you for believing in me despite what anybody else thinks.And thank you for your unwavering support.Admirals rock!"I raise my ball and holler, "Now, does anybody want to celebrate at Atlantic Beach?I'll buy the piña coladas!"
That garners a laugh, and I feel a weight lift from my shoulders.I raise the bat high one more time, and the crowd goes wild.
