Page 82 of Tastes Like Watermelon Moonshine
The Lariat’s stadium is bougie. And the way they treat the players… Yeah, that’s bougie too. Austin truly is blessed to play for a team that treats their players this well. The tickets he gets for every game are to a special box, just for the players' guests. We don’t have to mingle with the crazed and drunk fans celebrating, or mourning, in the stands. We’ve got better food, and private bathrooms. Which I would be extra thankful for if I was trying to potty train again. But that endeavor is paused until further notice. There’s also space for Grace to run around, which is an absolute necessity these days.
The national anthem has finally been sung and I hear the umpire yell “Play ball!” Grace hears it too.
“Paaaaayyyyy Baaaaaaahhhhhh!” She yells as loud as her little lungs will allow. Several people nearby turn, and most of them laugh, but a few shoot daggers her way. I can’t help it that she loves her daddy’s sport.
I pick her up and walk to the half wall that overlooks the field. The weather is cool enough today that the roof is open, but it’s still humid and hot. Thankfully a breeze blows through every now and then, and if you go deeper inside the booth there’s some air conditioning that is blasting.
Grace and I lean forward and watch all the players take their spots. I hold her up close, so her eyes are on the same level as mine and I point out Austin, standing behind second base. “There’s Daddy, do you see him, baby?”
She raises a chubby finger, pointing at the field. “Daddy?”
“Daddy!” I repeat and point again.
She looks at me, cocks her head, then turns back toward the field. Her green eyes squint. “Daddy?” She raises her hands and shakes her head. I point one last time. I’m certain it’ll take a fewmonths, or maybe years before she can accurately identify him on the field.
As we’re watching, the pitcher winds up and the crowd quiets down just a bit. “DAAAAAAADDDDDDDYYYYYYYYYY!” Grace yells right in my ear, creating a ringing echo. My face turns a million shades of red and I want to go hide in the fancy air conditioned bathroom. But I don’t. I stay put. And Austin looks up, because he knows which box we’re in, and he waves. I wave back before setting Grace on the floor so she can go play.
The game moves forward smoothly without any more Grace outbursts. The Lariat’s are playing the Warriors today, so it’s sure to be a tight game. In the bottom of the sixth Austin comes up to bat again. He’s the clean up hitter, and it’s his third time at bat. We’re up by three runs, and he’s got two runners on base and the chance to give us a six run lead.
I’ve memorized his batting routine. He toes the dirt with his right foot, kicking up a small cloud behind him. Then he twists his foot to the left and the right, digging in. The bat rotates in a small circle over his right shoulder as he locks his eyes on the ball. Although he’s explained the physics and timing for a perfect hit, I don’t understand all of it. I just know he needs to connect his bat with the center of the underside of the ball.
The first pitch flies past him so fast and so close that he jumps back. The pitcher is getting careless and, as nice as a forced walk would be, I don’t want Austin hit by a pitch. The pitcher winds up again, his right leg in the air. He drops his leg back to the mound and the ball flies toward Austin. That delightful crack is heard as the bat connects with the ball. I watch as it soars… higher and higher. Until it leaves the stadium behind. Straight through the open roof, that ball is gone.
The crowd is on its feet yelling and screaming, but Austin stands at home plate. His right arm hangs by his side, and his lefthand is clutching his shoulder. Then he hunches forward, and it’s obvious he’s in pain.
Something is wrong.
I watch, with breath suspended, as the managers run from the dugout to him. Every fiber of my body is telling me to run down there, but I can’t. Not right now. I have to wait until the game is over to be in the clubhouse, the tunnel, or the dugout.
Grace grabs my leg and I heft her up to my hip, never taking an eye off of Austin. “Daddy?” She asks me.
“I think Daddy got hurt.” I finally whisper.
The managers have their hands on his back and they’re all talking. Austin finally nods and I watch him slowly make his way around the bases so that his home run counts. He clutches his shoulder the entire time.
I hate that I can’t go down and be with him. I want to know what’s happening, how bad it is, what the game plan is. Depending on what the managers decide… Oh, no.
Grace fusses and pushes at me, and I realize that I’m squeezing her super tightly. I’m also struggling to breathe. I feel hotter than a Texas July afternoon, and my legs and arms feel so heavy. I’ve never had an anxiety attack, but I’m guessing I might be having one right now.
Slowly, and with careful steps, I reach for the closest chair and sink down into it. Rob and Riley rush toward me as I lean my head forward and rest it on my knees.
Chapter 40
Austin - The Present
“So,you’regoodwiththat plan?” I ask Raegan. We’re leaving my general manager’s office after discussing the outcome after my recent surgery and my long stay on the sixty-day disabled list. “I’ve recovered perfectly, the doctors claim. Just gotta regain strength and mobility.”
Raegan squeezes my hand and nods. “This is your dream, Austin, I love seeing you on that field. I will support you no matter where the road takes us.” She leans in close, “I’m your number one fan. Even though I’ll follow you to the ends of the earth, I’m glad it’s just Frisco and not somewhere else.”
“It’ll be nice to see the guys on the Spurs again.”
“You see Jared almost every day for Bible study, but I get it. It’s like me with Chrissy and Jaimie when they’re no longer in school.”
“Do you know how lucky I am to have your support?”
“The luckiest.” She grabs my chin and presses a quick kiss to my lips.
My fate is settled. As long as I don’t injure something else I’m back off the DL and on my way back up to the majors.
