Page 110 of Last Fall

“She did. Mom’s honor.” There was some rustling and I could hear Mom talking to someone, like she had her hand over the phone. Then, “I’m so sorry baby boy. I need to cut thisshort.”

“No problem. Do what yougottado.”

“Have a good game tonight. I look forward to meeting Zoenextweek.”

“Thanks, Ma.Loveyou.”

“Loveyou,too.”

* * *

As predicted,our last regular season home game was a walk in the park. Well, except for one major fuckup in the seventh inning that nearly cost us the gameandour firstbaseman.

Don Reynolds, our shortstop, was young and cocky, and, based on today’s performance,stupid.

I waited until we were in the locker room—the media didn’t need to see how I handled teampolitics.

“Keep ‘em out for five minutes,” I said as low as I could to Carson, nodding toward the door. I didn’t want the reporters accidentally walking inonthis.

Then I marched right up to the little prick and backed him up to his locker. I didn’t say anything; I let my obvious mood do the talking. Don folded his arms over his chest like he didn’t give a shit what Ithought.

Wrongattitude.

“Didn’t feel like playing today?” I finallyasked.

He shrugged. “What was thepoint?”

I saw stars for a second as my blood pressure shot through the roof. “What’s. The. Point?” I repeated his words back as a question. “What’s the point of playing baseball? I don’t know,” I shrugged, looking over my shoulder at the small audience. “It’s what we’re allherefor?”

“The game was a throwaway. It didn’tmatter.”

I shoved him against the divider between his locker and Chris’s. “No game is ever a throwaway. With an attitude like that you’re not going be here very long, little man.Every game matters.Fuck, if you don’t love being on that field why are you here? There are a hundred AAA guys just waiting for a chance to stand on thatfield.”

Don didn’t like being told how to feel. “Back off, Bear. These guys may let you push them around but I won’t. We’redonehere.”

Little prick tried to walk off. I shoved him back into the divider and kept my forearm across his chest while I got in nice and close for a chat. “We are not done here. That shit you threw at Brian? You almost got him hurt. Tell me, how are we supposed to win games with a hurt first baseman, huh? Every throw matters. Every game matters. Get your head out of your ass and act like you deserve tobehere.”

He ducked out. “We’re going to win just like we have been allseason.”

I remembered the days when I thought stupid things like that. Don still believed talent and luck would be enough to get him places. “Where’s your crystal ball, Don? You can see thefuturenow?”

“The fuck, man?Backoff.”

“What? You’re predicting games. Are you cashing checks you haven’t earned yet, too? Because the rest of us,” I waved at the guys standing close behind me, “we’ve been there. We’ve lived games going the wrong way, teams falling apart at the worst possible time. You have no idea what’s going to happen next week. We could be out and all those World Series wet dreams you’ve been having will have to wait another year. Or ten. Because a team like thisisrare.”

He flung out his hands wide and shrugged. “Not all of us are ready for retirement,PapaBear.”

The fucking chip on this kid’s shoulder was so big I was surprised he could stand. Luckily Wes jumped in before I mauled him. He shoved me back just as I was about toswing.

“Whoa. Okay. Let’s cool off a little.” He pushed me back a couple more steps. Then he turned back to Don. “Could you stop being an asshole for two seconds and listen? You played like shit today. Shitty players can be replaced. We would all like to win every game possible, but especially every game for the next month. Not only will it earn us pretty bonuses but we’ve all dreamt about being on a team this strong and taking it all the way to the end. Don’t ruin this for me because you’re in abadmood.”

Wes’s method was clearly better than mine because Don shook his head. “I’m sorry.” Then he looked at everyone but me. “This playoff run means everything to me too. I apologize and I will show up ready to play from now on. Okay?” He finally lookedatme.

I nodded even though I still wanted to knock his teeth in. This was my one and only shot. I knew that. I was getting older and teams like this didn’t staytogether.

The crowd broke up and we all went about our post-game cool down rituals. The reporters came in and did their interviews, asked their questions. I went through it all on automatic until I got askedaboutZoe.

“We noticed a woman sitting with Carrie Allen today. She has your name and number on the back of her shirt.” Bryson said. He’d been reporting for as long as I couldremember.