I had him guessing. Tim signed for the changeup again. If I were Brock, I would expect the fastball this time. I made him look silly a second time.
My next pitch froze him. I threw him the curveball, but it was just out of the strike zone. I got him out on the two-seamer, low and away. He walked out and shook my hand.
“Hell of a job. You had me guessing. I’m glad you’re on our team,” Brock said.
Now was money time. I don’t think Coach Herndon thought he’d be batting. Everyone laughed when I had Mike run out to the mound with a bag.
“I just wanted you to see what you’ll be carrying all year,” I tweaked him.
Tim trotted out to talk strategy.
“You haven’t done your full Japanese ninja act yet, and you haven’t shown your slider,” he advised.
“How about this: I throw the two-seam low and away. Let’s see if he’ll chase it. As soon as he holds up, we throw the slider to catch the corner.”
We agreed and Tim went back and took his place behind the plate. The whole team was now in my corner. It was one thing to root for your teammates, it was another to root for a coach. Coach Herndon took the ribbing well.
On my first pitch, I did everything Shiggy had taught me. I had an exaggerated motion where I brought the ball and glove over my head and down to my chest. I slowly rocked back, and when I found my center, I used my back leg to explode forward. I brought the ball back behind my shoulder as long as I could before torquing a hummer towards the outside corner, except it wasn’t outside.
Luckily, Coach Herndon had taken the first pitch. I was surprised when it was called a strike. I thought it was a little low. Right down the middle, but low. I knew if I made that mistake again he would take full advantage.
I had one more trick up my sleeve. Shiggy had shown me how to flip my glove during a pitch. The movement of the glove was intended to distract the batter, especially if they weren’t used to seeing it. Tim called for the same pitch. Coach Herndon was able to hold up as the pitch ended up outside.
The next pitch, the slider, completely fooled him. I had a huge grin on my face when Coach Haskins called it a strike.
“Didn’t know I had that one, did you?”
“Nope. But you’re still going down,” he challenged as he dug in.
To his credit, Coach Herndon had a good eye. I threw back-to-back four-seam fastballs eye-level for balls. I couldn’t entice him to swing at them. I now had a full count. Normally I’d try to just dig down and bring the heat. I had a feeling that wouldn’t work with Coach Herndon. Tim came out to the mound so that we were on the same page.
“Just throw it by him,” Tim said.
“No, he’ll be guessing fastball. Let’s get him with the curve,” I suggested.
“Are you sure?”
“Either that or the forkball, but I think the speed difference for the curve would be better.”
“Okay, curve it is,” Tim said and went back to his place behind the plate.
The pitch was perfect. Coach had guessed fastball. How he got a piece of it I have no idea. But luck was on my side. Tim snagged the foul tip and hung onto it. The team acted like we’d won the World Series. There was a happy look on all the coaches’ faces, even Coach Herndon. It had been a great team-building activity.
Friday March 6
THE FINAL CUTS HAD been made and I wasn’t surprised to make the team. I’d made Coach Herndon carry my bags for only a day. I figured I’d better not push it. Moose agreed with me and allowed me to stop running. It was funny how that worked out.
Something that changed was Bryan and Brock now got rides from me. They shared the back seat with Duke on the way home. They were bummed Moose hadn’t bent on his rules and they had to play JV ball. Jeff claimed shotgun.
Tonight, I dropped everyone off and grabbed my bags. My plan was to head up to Wesleyan to see Harper. We had a late dinner planned. This was the last weekend before baseball started, so I wanted to go to Harper instead of her having to come see me.
I was running a little late, so I called Harper on my hands-free phone. It was one of the little features of the Jeep I was still learning to use. Mom had ridden with me to the grocery store and about took my head off when she found out I wasn’t using it. To be perfectly honest, I’m a guy—I hadn’t even realized the Jeep had the feature. Knowing would have meant reading the manual. I thought I just had a fancy radio.
She’d driven me to the Sullivan car dealership and embarrassed the hell out of me (I know, imagine that). Mom went in and found a cute girl to come out and show me a few features and how they worked. For example, it was Bluetooth-capable and it responded to voice commands. I could play my songs that were on my phone through the car speakers. She even showed me how to download my favorite songs to the Jeep. I could make calls by just saying the person’s name. She gave me a cradle for my phone and pointed out an app I had that was a turn-by-turn GPS.
I pulled up to Harper’s dorm and she came right out. I almost felt like one of those jerk guys who just pulls up and honks the horn. She gave me a sheepish look that told me something was up. My first clue was she was in jeans. I’d thought we were going to a nice place to eat.
“Change of plans,” she began as she tried to judge my reaction. “We’re going to a party.”
“That’s fine, as long as you feed me.”
“I have it covered. We’re picking up the pizzas.”
“What’s this party all about?” I asked.
“I’m friends, still friends, with a lot of Ray’s theater group. I let it slip I was dating you and they wanted to meet you. I promised you’d go,” she said in a rush.
I think I might have made some facial expression as to how excited I was to talk to theater kids about making my movie. Not that I had anything against theater people; some of my newest friends were in the business. I’d thought tonight was about Harper.
“We can leave early if you aren’t having a good time,” she quickly suggested.
“No, I just had other expectations for tonight, like spending time with you. I’m also overdressed.”
“You could change in the bathroom at the pizza place,” Harper said way too cheerfully.
I guess this was part of being in a relationship. Sometimes your better half changed plans on you. Of course, I would think part of a good relationship would include communication. One quick phone call would have done wonders for my mood, because as it was I felt manipulated. When we pulled up in front of the pizza place, I turned off the car and turned to Harper.
“Before I ruin our evening, I need to get something off my chest. I really am not a control freak. I can usually roll with the punches. I want to be clear I’m not upset about the change of plans. What’s causing me a problem is it feels like it’s a setup.”
“I didn’t think you’d want to go,” she told me.
“Harper, I want to be with you. If it means going to a theater party, I’m there. You don’t have to trick me into going.”
“Oh.”
“All I ask is you trust me enough to tell me what you want. The worst that could happen is I might say ‘no.’ You have to believe me: I’ll at least listen to you, and then tell you why not, if I don’t agree. If we can’t at least talk to each other, and be honest, I can’t do this.”
“Wow, someone did a number on you,” she said. Then it dawned on her. “Tami.”
I just got out of the Jeep and grabbed my bag. I couldn’t go there right now. I was surprised at how raw my emotions suddenly were, and I needed a few moments to collect myself. When I went into the restroom to change, I realized it wasn’t just Harper who’d rubbed me the wrong way. It was all the girls this week. I wanted to file that away and think about it later. What I had to decide right now was whether I would let this go for now and just enjoy the night or not. I didn’t see an upside to being upset. Harper and I had the rest of the weekend to talk about this.