The ball almost hissed as it flew towards home. The hitter made a mighty swing, and I heard it as it connected with the bat. I smiled when I realized he hadn’t gotten all of it. What he did do was hit a towering shot almost straight up.
“Mine!” I called.
Pitchers rarely field pop-ups in the infield, but I wasn’t a typical pitcher. I wondered if it would ever come down, and then gravity did its thing. I camped out under it, waved my arms, and called out again that it was mine. Everyone backed off and gave me room. I made sure to show the umpires I had it to end the game.
I was proud of my guys because they treated this like any other game and didn’t jump up and down. Lakeview had been a worthy opponent today. Mr. Hicks, our athletic director, came onto the field and talked to the Lakeview coach and Moose as we shook hands with the Lakeview players. The last guy was the one who had just popped up.
“I thought I had you,” he said.
“I was afraid you had. If we had any depth in pitching, I would have let them take over and pitch against you. I didn’t want to face you,” I admitted.
“What the hell was that at the end? You threw me a slider and curveball. I about shit my pants when you threw that curve.”
“If you’d seen how badly I threw it in warm-ups, you would have been right to bail. I just figured it would fool you,” I said.
“Good luck in the playoffs,” he said, and then continued down the line to shake hands.
Moose came over.
“They want to do a press conference. Go sign your autographs and then come into the interview room,” he told me.
Caryn had been busy. She’d realized that I shouldn’t be handing out Stryker photos at a baseball game, so she’d gotten my baseball picture. The whole team had gotten photographs taken for the yearbook. Caryn had had the printer make baseball cards out of mine. I got the batboys to help me hand the cards out. I smiled to see Lakeview’s batgirl help hand them out as well. They’d printed my signature on the cards, so I didn’t have to sign them.
The cards were sharp-looking. On one side, they had my picture, and on the other, instead of stats, was ‘Lincoln High Baseball / David Dawson’ and our school’s logo. It was printed on glossy card stock. I wanted to keep some since this was my first baseball card.
Frank came onto the field and stood behind me to watch me interact with the crowd. I heard his phone chirp, and he came up to me and told me the press was ready for me. My helpers agreed to hand out cards until the crowd thinned. They seemed to be a popular item. Caryn had done well.
◊◊◊
I walked in with a stack of cards and began handing them out to the press. Frank walked up to the front and stood off to the side of the podium. I glanced at him, and he just smiled. He hadn’t given me any talking points, so apparently, he wanted me to just wing it. I put him out of my mind and worked the crowd.
“Are you trying to bribe us?” Jeff Delahey, my favorite reporter, asked.
“Like that would ever work. Now, if I had food, I might get somewhere with that,” I said.
The room was packed with recruiters and scouts in the back, filling up the room. It looked like they wanted to see how I handled myself in this environment. I looked up, and no one was at the podium.
“Are you guys waiting for me?” I asked.
“Take your time; we only have deadlines to meet,” Jeff quipped.
“I’ll put a stack of these on the side of the desk. If you didn’t get one, feel free to grab one after we’re done,” I said and made my way to the podium.
I set them down, and Jeff got up and took a handful.
“What?” he asked as he gave me a look. “I have grandkids.”
“Since he took most of them, could someone go out to the field? The batboys have the rest of them,” I said.
Coach Herndon left the room to get more.
When I was set, I turned to Jeff.
“Mr. Delahey, you have the first question,” I said.
“Is it true you haven’t pitched at all this year?”
“I was focused on changing positions. I’ve always played shortstop but was told that my best shot at the majors was to play outfield. My coaches, Moose and Coach Haskins, have been great. They both have a ton of experience, and they’ve worked with me to get comfortable with my new position,” I said.
“David, have you ever pitched before?”
“Sorry, I didn’t bring my press secretary today. When you ask a question, could you tell me who you are and where you work?” I asked.
“Yeah, Matt Weston with WZIL.”
“Thanks. I pitched my freshman and sophomore years. I never planned to do it this year, so today was the first time I threw.”
“Not even in practice?” Matt followed up.
“No, not even in practice. Luckily, I came through today. My football coach, Coach Hope, pointed out it was just like throwing a football,” I said, and the people who knew baseball chuckled. “I agree with you, but his point was I just needed the confidence to do it. I’d pitched before, so the hope was I could get through three innings. When I survived them, Coach told me to just cut loose and see how far I could go. I have to tell you, I was struggling with that last batter. If he’d placed his bat just half an inch higher, we would’ve been tied,” I said.
“Mark Rose, WCDU. Do you know how fast your fastball was?”
“No idea. I bet if we ask one of the guys in the back, they can help you,” I said.
“You started at 86 miles per hour, but later, you were throwing in the low- to mid-90s.”
“Wow, really?” I asked.
That made everyone laugh.
“I’m told you threw mainly fastballs and changeups. What other pitches did you throw?” Mark asked.
“My out pitch was a split-finger fastball. The movement was enough to fool them. I did throw a curve and a slider to the last batter. In warm-ups, they weren’t breaking, so I didn’t use them until I had to,” I admitted.
The rest of the interview focused on baseball. I admitted to being worried we didn’t have enough pitching to go far in the playoffs. When Coach Herndon came back with the cards, I made sure I grabbed one. I joked that someday, it might be valuable.
I was glad when Moose came in and called a stop after almost forty minutes. They would all have more than enough to write a story.
◊◊◊
After a stop at the trainers to get an ice pack on my arm, Frank took me into a conference room.
“I wanted to see how you do without me to help you. You looked comfortable up there and controlled the interview. I think you’re ready for me to take off the training wheels and set you free for things like this.”
“If I get into trouble, I hope you plan to help me,” I said.
“Of course I will; I have to earn what you pay me. And I’ll also continue to build your brand. I just think you can handle these sorts of interviews.”
“I agree, but I do appreciate you flying out on short notice.”
“All part of the service. If I hurry, I can catch the last flight back to LA,” he said and hustled out.
◊◊◊
When I got back to the locker room, everyone had already left except Moose and Coach Haskins. Moose thanked me for stepping up, and Coach Haskins thanked me for proving him right. Moose suggested that he keep his mouth shut in the future. I didn’t think Coach Haskins much cared what other people thought, which was one of the reasons I liked him.
I drove home still wearing my uniform. When I got there, we had dinner. Afterward, Mom and Dad took me to the office.
“Your mom went to see the doctor last week and got her results back,” Dad said.
I looked at both of them and threw my hands up when neither was talking. They both laughed, and I knew the news was good.
“Thank God!” I said as I gave Mom a hug.