“While I appreciate that, they did what they did,” she said with a huff.
M.E. was right. I don’t know what I would’ve done in her situation. Well, I sort of did. I hadn’t handled it too well when Tami had dated her first few guys. For a while, freshman year, before I knew about Angie, I’d even suspected that Tami was dating my brother. Even with us being apart for the summer, I’d felt the hurt in the pit of my stomach when I was sure she’d been with Greg.
“I had something very similar happen during my freshman year of high school. I know what it’s like to feel like your best friend picked your brother over you. While you want what’s best for your friend, there’s a special level of betrayal when you believe your brother has taken your best friend from you. For a guy, it may even be worse because there’s that voice in the back of your head that wonders why they picked your brother over you. I always just assumed that we would be together,” I admitted.
“Did you two ever get together?”
“Not in that way. We’re still friends, but I no longer believe we’ll be together. It turned out it was all in my head, but the pain felt the same.”
Of course, being a girl, she wanted the full scoop, so I told her the story of Tami and me.
“I can’t believe you worried that your brother could steal her away from you,” M.E. said.
“My brother is no slouch with the ladies. Angie got her claws into him and never let go; otherwise, he could give me a run for my money. He’s a charming guy.”
“I know, but you’re a movie star.”
“Yes, who was a pudgy nerd in middle school.”
“What should I do?” she asked.
“I don’t know. On the one hand, Dave’s an immature jerk who did what he did without considering the consequences. I guess you could say that’s a boy thing. We let the little head do our thinking sometimes.”
I was getting no disagreement from her.
“Then there’s your friend Kelly. I might have a hard time with what she did. Something I’ve learned is that people make mistakes. I don’t believe she did it intentionally to hurt you. I think you’re right that she saw this as a way to become more popular. Can you really hold that against her?” I asked.
“But we make fun of the popular kids,” she said and then blushed when she surmised I might be one of those.
“Sorry, you’re not that bad,” she added.
“I have my moments.”
It was clear she needed a hug, so I gave her one.
◊◊◊
Mac was starting to get tired, so we returned to the party. I found Angie and gave her back her daughter.
“Did she get her fill of horses?”
“Are you kidding me? I foresee a large cash outlay on my part when she’s old enough,” I said.
“I foresee having to take her for riding lessons,” Angie complained.
“If it wasn’t that, it would be something else,” I assured her.
I was back in time for some homemade ice cream and peach pie. Allard had really hit the jackpot with his host family.
I spied Dave and Kelly talking to M.E. She at least wasn’t running away. I could tell it would take more than one talk, but it was a start. Meanwhile, Pam and Peggy were teasing my teammates. I stood back and watched the players try their best moves on them. It was apparent Pam had had enough, so I strolled up.
Pam and Peggy shot to me, and I put an arm around each of them.
“I hope you two didn’t tease them too much,” I said, giving my teammates a knowing look.
“No, they were fine,” Daz supplied.
“You’re a lucky guy,” Nick added.
“Thanks,” I said to the boys and then looked at the girls. “You about ready to go? I have baseball tomorrow.”
That reminded everyone we needed to get some sleep. We thanked our hosts and went our separate ways.
◊◊◊
Chapter 15 – Why Would You Need Tackle? Wednesday June 22
Today, we had our only night game, against Pony. Tomorrow would be a double-header day versus the Nationals and the Free. On Friday, the top two teams would play a championship game, and then the forty-man roster would be announced.
Our pitching staff needed the rest. If it hadn’t been for Kale stepping in yesterday, their arms would have been doubly tired. No pitcher is used to going on short notice, but that was what would happen for our next four games. Yes, it looked like we would be in the championship game, so we needed to plan accordingly.
To that end, Coach Kingwood wanted to talk to me.
“We’re going to have you start tonight. I want to save our arms for Thursday and Friday. Are you up for that?” he asked.
“Whatever you need, Coach. I might want to work a bit this morning and get my curve and slider working,” I admitted.
“You think that’ll be a problem?”
“Not really. I just haven’t pitched much, and my mechanics are off. I expect I just need to throw a few and it’ll come back,” I said, hoping it would happen.
Coach Kingwood sent me to work with Coach Mallei to fix my pitches.
“Let me see how you’re gripping the ball. The curve relies on two things: the grip and your wrist motion,” Coach Mallei reminded me.
I showed him my middle finger was on the laces, or seam, of the ball with my index finger next to it.
“Have you ever tried to throw a spiked curveball?”
“I’ve never even heard of that type of curve. What makes it different?” I asked.
“The middle finger is straight along the outer seam of the ball and the index finger is tucked underneath. It’s similar to a knuckleball grip,” he said, then demonstrated.
I tried it, and it felt a little weird.
“When I was pitching, I had better success by sticking my fingernail directly into the seam. It helped hold my index finger in place and accelerate the spin of the ball. This creates a hard, biting pitch that ‘spikes’ downward,” Coach Mallei explained, and then threw one so I could see it.
It actually bounced off the plate. I guess that’s where they got the ‘spike’ name. It looked like a volleyball player was smashing it down. This had much more movement than my curve ever had. I liked what I saw.
“The other difference from a regular curveball is hand position at release,” Coach explained. “Instead of snapping your wrist clockwise at the release, your hand stays up and behind the baseball. Without the hand turn, the pitch is even more difficult to pick up. Most hitters are unable to tell the difference between this pitch and a fastball. It takes them longer to recognize the difference, which makes it almost impossible to adjust to hit the ball.”
I fell in love with the spiked curveball. It broke much harder than my split-finger fastball. The only person not happy was Trent because no catcher wants to field pitches that bounce off the plate.
I never got a chance to work on my slider, but figured with a fastball, changeup, and my new spike curveball, I had enough variety for tonight’s game.
◊◊◊
When we finally stopped for lunch, we found my mom and Melissa putting out food on our tables. A man from USA Baseball was checking out the lunch their caterer had provided and comparing it to what we had. Both lunches had salad, but ours didn’t have half the lettuce with brown spots. Their caterer had also provided a make-your-own-sandwich setup with a variety of lunch meats and cheeses that didn’t look bad.
Melissa told us the menu for today.
“We’ve made two salads, one with grilled chicken and the other a tomato and mozzarella. We also have a variety of sandwich wraps. I personally like the roast beef with horseradish. There’s also pasta with turkey meatballs, and finally a fresh fruit salad.”
The man from USA Baseball asked to take a little of each from what the moms made and then got a plate of the catered food. He took it with him to show the other USA Baseball staff.
Everyone on Team Pride was happy with what we were eating.