“Don’t you clam up on me,” she threatened. “I know you think you can make your own decisions and you can tattle to your dad, but I’m serious about this. It’s obvious you’re not talking to Tami enough, so I’m going to have to step in. Last night showed me you have yet to learn to think things through. You’re letting your heart make your decisions, not your head.”
“Is that so bad?” I asked.
Mom’s mouth pinched, and she leaned back, then visibly forced herself to relax. I don’t believe either one of us wanted to argue about last night, so I came clean.
“I realized it was a mistake when I said it … well, ‘mistake’ might be too strong a word. You know that if it came down to it, I would’ve done what Greg did and stepped up and taken responsibility,” I admitted.
“I’m sure you would have, but you’re younger and in a different financial situation than your brother was, and still is. I realize that isn’t fair, but it’s the truth. You also have your father’s and my support,” Mom reminded me.
“Greg also has your support,” I shot back.
“The difference is they decided they wanted to get married. We backed him on that,” Mom said.
“Mom, I don’t want to argue about this. I said what I said, and at the time, I was ready to back those words up. Pam decided that she likes our current arrangement, so nothing has changed.”
“I know, but that doesn’t mean that I don’t worry about you.”
“And Mom …” I began and looked her in the eyes. “I’m not coming to you for relationship advice.”
“I didn’t really expect you would. It was worth a shot, though. I love you,” she said to end the discussion.
“I love you too.”
“Now that that’s settled, anyone up for pancakes?” Melissa asked.
“I could eat,” Paul said with a smile.
◊◊◊
We had morning practice in the stadium. My Lincoln coaches had spread out across the other baseball fields to scout the other teams. Coach Mallei, our pitching coach, called me to join him in the bullpen.
“David, I understand you pitch some. I’d like to see what you have in case we get into a jam.”
I warmed up and showed him what I could do. He didn’t have anything negative to say, but it was clear I wasn’t going to make it to the majors as a pitcher. I didn’t think much about it until I was called over by Coach Nautilus, our infield coach.
“I want to see how you do at different infield positions.”
It seems someone had opened his big mouth and said he was willing to do whatever the coaches needed. Coach Nautilus was surprised when I had infield and first-baseman’s gloves. I’d already figured out that first base wasn’t really the best option for me, but I could play it in a pinch.
I, of course, excelled at shortstop, because that had always been my position up until this year. Somehow, second base felt backward. I was sure I could play it just fine, but I was more comfortable at short.
The position they worked me at the longest was third. I was surprised when I did well there. With my arm strength and reflexes, I was able to do a credible job.
They call it the ‘hot corner’ for a reason. At short and second, you can play a little further back because you don’t need to worry about bunts.
For me, it wasn’t as challenging as short, as far as turning double plays was concerned. The key to third was that you had to react even faster to a hit ball. Since third is played closer to the plate, the ball is on you quicker. Right-handed batters also tend to hit the ball harder towards third than up the middle.
At the end of practice, Coach Kingwood pulled me aside.
“What’s your take on this morning’s practice?”
“It was good. I haven’t really pitched much this year, so I don’t expect Coach Mallei was too impressed. I felt I did best at short and third. But if I needed to, I could fill in at the other two positions.”
“That’s a good assessment, and about what my coaches told me. Are you comfortable at the other outfield positions?” he asked.
“I’d be game to try, but with my range and arm, I think I’d serve you better in center.”
“I agree,” he said and then paused to consider his next words. “Most of the players here have been at one position all their life and can play it well. Someone like you can give a manager versatility in his lineup options. I was talking to your coaches, and they told me you bat leadoff for your high school team. That tells me you’re flexible enough to bat up and down the order.
“There’s a reason I had you work at different positions today. When we finally get down to the twenty-man roster, someone like you can make it feel like a twenty-two-man roster. If you can spot-pitch when needed and play both infield and outfield, it’s like picking up two extra players.
“You caught everyone’s eye with your bat yesterday. That was some of the best hitting I’ve seen in a long time. Moose told me you thrive when the spotlight comes on. That would explain why you excel at football, and I expect you’d agree you’re doing well here. What I need you to do is to trust me,” Coach Kingwood said.
“Why’s that, Coach?”
“I may ask you to take on some roles or tasks that won’t put you in the best light. If you’re uncomfortable with that, you need to tell me. I would understand if you were concerned that you might not make the forty-man cut and wanted to play it safe and just play center field.”
“What I said the first day still holds true: I’m a team player and will do whatever it takes for us to win. If that means I have to play out of position, I’ll do it, even if it costs me a spot. Besides, if this doesn’t work out, I’m sure I would be okay playing football,” I said to convince him.
He gave me a sly smile.
“Don’t worry. You’re doing just fine playing baseball. Now go join the others at lunch.”
◊◊◊
Paul met me before I walked into the tent where lunch was being served. He handed me an insulated bag that had my food in it.
“Your mom dropped this off. I guess Melissa let her use her kitchen.”
“Thanks. What are they serving today?” I asked.
“Pizza and chips.”
“I guess it could be worse,” I said and left him to find my teammates.
“There he is. Looks like you got in trouble today, with having to go talk to Coach Kingwood,” Daz said.
“Yeah, he isn’t sure where to play me,” I said as I opened my bag and started to pull out my lunch.
My mom had poached chicken breasts, steamed broccoli, and made faux potato salad from cauliflower. I also found an apple in the lunch sack.
“Where did you get that?” Dave asked.
“My mom and host mom made it. Last year, I was sent to a sports clinic where they talked to me about the importance of good nutrition and supplements for athletes. Since then, I try to follow their advice and eat a high-protein, low-carb diet for the most part.”
“I thought it was just me. I do the same. Do you think you could talk them into helping out a fellow teammate?” Lucas asked.
To reinforce his plea, he held up his slice of pizza. It was limp and nasty-looking. Our New Yorker, Blake, was particularly unhappy with the soggy slice.
“That looks limper than David’s dick,” Mitch quipped.
“You can’t say that,” Dave said, crying foul.
“Careful, Mitch, or I’ll have to pull out something about your mama,” I teased.
‘Your mama’ jokes were old but still funny.
“Maybe we can pool our money and talk some of the host moms into cooking for us. I know mine is a great cook,” Nick said.
“I agree. Yes, I realize this is free food, but it makes me a little queasy,” Daz said as he patted the pizza with a napkin to show all the grease. “I’d be willing to pitch in some money for a decent lunch. Nick’s right, my host mom is a great cook. I told my mother that I might just stay because the food is so good.”