Page 47 of Framing the Pitch (Red Dirt Romance #1)

The semifinal series begins with double headers the next day. While exhausting, if you can manage to close out the series with two wins in two games, it gives you an advantage for the final series: a day off before the championship series.

Most of us have played in the collegiate championship tournament, a rigorous nine-day event, so we can handle this five-day end to our season. What’s really got the team up in knots is that after six straight losses to the Mayhem, we have to face them again in the first round of this tournament.

Our only saving grace is that Lexi—the only pitcher the Mayhem haven’t faced since the beginning of the season—is finally on the mend and will be playing this weekend.

But pitching is only one part of the game.

We’ve got to shore up things defensively and light a fire under our offense to even have a chance of knocking the Mayhem out of this tournament and advancing to the championship series.

Coach Golding gathers us around the on deck circle as we wait for the Mayhem to finish their on-field warmup. Coming in as the lower seed, we’re the visiting team for the first game of the series and batting first.

“Alright, ladies, this is our moment. It’s our turn to come back and show the Mayhem we’re made of stronger stuff—that we’ve come here to compete and to win. We’ve played them a lot in the last two weeks, but instead of focusing on the outcomes of those games, let’s focus on what we can control.

“We’ve seen all their pitchers. We know how they like to throw, and we know what they’re capable of.

Stick to smart running on the bases and finding gaps with our hits.

We don’t need to out-home-run them, we just need to build and maintain momentum.

Chain hits together to score runs. Basic softball. ”

Coach Golding stands and puts her hand in the circle of players.

“Bring it in.” The whole team crowds around, putting their hands in the middle.

On Coach’s count, we cheer, “STORM!” The team files into the dugout while Coach Golding takes her spot on the third base line and Coach London jogs around to the first base line.

Deja steps up to the plate after taking her signs from Coach, and the game begins.

We play hard.

We trade runs back and forth with the Mayhem, taking the lead and then giving it back. Our defense is locked in, and only solid base hits advance the runners in green. After we take the lead by two runs in the fifth inning, Coach pulls Haven, who had an amazing start, and subs in Lexi.

The field is tense as Lexi completes her five warmup pitches before play resumes.

The strategy is to throw off the Mayhem batters with a new pitcher who throws a different set of pitches.

Haven relies heavily on her rise ball, and Lexi mains a drop curve along with a powerful fastball.

While we know the Mayhem have the scouting report on Lexi’s pitching, our advantage is that they haven’t faced her in the circle since before the Fourth of July.

I take the pitch call from Coach Monique and nod to Lexi as I relay it to her.

She rotates her body to hide the grip from the opposing dugout, and I flash my mitt where the pitch is slotted for before dropping it back down in front of me.

Lexi goes into her windup and I shift on my feet, my mitt skimming the dirt and lifting as the ball spins out of Lexi’s hand.

The Mayhem batter watches the pitch, which looks inside until the ball breaks and curves back toward the plate. I turn my mitt as I receive the pitch, sliding subtly back toward the plate in a perfect frame. The umpire behind me signals Lexi’s first pitch as a strike.

Even with runners on the bases and in scoring position, the Mayhem can’t capitalize on it while Lexi’s in the circle. She hands them a tidy three consecutive outs, and my team heads back to the dugout.

What felt like a looming marathon before the game becomes a tense sprint as we don’t score any runs in our last two at-bats and barely fend off extra runs when a high fly ball with one out allows a runner at third base to tag up and cross home plate before we get a tag out at third to end the inning.

But it’s all about momentum. Even though we don’t score in the seventh inning, our defense—and Lexi’s pitching—remains top notch, landing us with a 5-4 win against the Mayhem in game one.

Riding on the high of winning the first game of our double header, we win the second in a much less spectacular fashion.

We get an early lead before the Mayhem put in their ace pitcher and shut down our offense, limiting us to no more than one run per inning for the rest of the game.

But today is our day, and between Lexi and Erica, we hold the Mayhem to two runs and win by a decent margin .

The handshake line after the game is emotional as their players congratulate us on our win and accept the end of their season.

Hugs are passed around freely, the most emotional one being Erica and Alyssa’s.

From what Erica told me during our impromptu spa day yesterday, the two sisters agreed that whoever lost in this first series would have to wear the other’s jersey for the entirety of the championship series.

Judging by the tears and smiles on both of their faces as I pass them on my way back to the dugout, it’s an event Alyssa might never live down.

The team gathers our equipment, and we shuffle off the field as the Renegades and Firebirds line up to enter the dugouts.

The grounds crew is already dragging the field and touching up the pitcher’s circle and foul lines with rakes by the time we exit the stadium and head back to the locker rooms. In a matter of hours, we’ll know who we’ll be facing on Saturday in the first game of the WFL Championship series.

Until then, it’s time to rest.

Saturday dawns clear and as cool as it gets in Phoenix during the summer. After Thursday’s win that knocked the Mayhem out of the tournament, the team celebrated by taking Friday to rest, relax, and enjoy the day while we prepared for today’s game. But this morning, we’re back at it.

Coach has us meet at one of the practice fields in the morning while it’s still relatively cool for a short practice, which turns into more of a quick warmup and extended team meeting where we talk about the lineup and our strategy for tonight’s game.

By the end of the hour on the field, my teammates and I are as prepared as we can be for our game against the Phoenix Firebirds tonight.

It wasn’t much of a surprise when they ended their series against the Renegades with two run-rule victories.

While I had partially hoped the Renegades would pull magic out of their hat, I’m glad we have the chance to reclaim our champion title from the team who took it from us to begin with.

My phone rings when I get back to my hotel room, sans Erica, who is having lunch with Alyssa before we have to report back to the stadium for our official warmup. I smile as I hit the answer button.

“Marilyn!”

“Hey there, sugar!” Marilyn’s sweet voice instantly lifts my mood. “Are you ready for tonight?”

“As ready as I’ll ever be.”

“We just landed and will be on our way to the stadium as soon as we drop off our bags. Emmett and I are both so excited to watch you play again.” Marilyn’s voice softens. “And since Trace can’t be here, we figured this was the next best thing.”

“Thank you, Marilyn.” Tears prick the back of my eyes, but I try to keep the emotion out of my voice.

“I’m so glad you could make it.” My laugh comes out a little more watery than I had planned.

Would I prefer it if Trace were here, too?

Absolutely. But him making sure my next two biggest fans are here for the biggest games of the season is so sweet.

But that’s Trace being Trace. He always made sure someone was at my games in college if he couldn’t be here.

Most of the time, it was Marilyn and Emmett who took his place, but he would rope anyone—his football teammates, our classmates, even the guys I had crushes on—into cheering for me if he couldn’t be in the stands.

“We’ll see you after the game tonight, sugar. Play hard. Give us something to brag to Trace about.”

I laugh, even though it’s tinged with sadness. Emmett’s voice comes through Marilyn’s phone. “Marilyn! We’re all ready, let’s go!”

“Alright, sugar, I’ll see you tonight,” she says in a rush. I barely have time to say goodbye before she hangs up.

With the hotel room to myself, I strip down to my sliding shorts and sports bra and climb onto my bed to take a nap, knowing Erica will wake me up when she gets back to get ready for the game tonight.

I’m not disappointed when Erica opening the door and loudly saying, “Just come on in; I’ll get you the jersey and then you can go,” wakes me up an hour and a half later.

She’s headfirst into her suitcase before I can clear the sleep from my eyes and register that Alyssa is the one who followed her in.

With a smile in my direction and an eye roll in her sister’s, Alyssa groans as she leans against the end of Erica’s bed, taking her weight off her braced knee.

Erica pops up from her suitcase and tosses a white jersey at Alyssa’s face. “There, that one should work.” She looks over Alyssa’s shoulder at me. “I don’t think we’re wearing our whites for this series, are we?”

I sit up and rub the sleep from my eyes.

“I don’t know. That’s a question for Deja or Lexi; they always know.

Hey, Alyssa.” I raise my hand to greet Erica’s sister as I reach for the t-shirt I tossed on the end of my bed.

A quick glance at my watch tells me it’s time to get ready to head back to the stadium, so instead of pulling it over my head, I toss the t-shirt at my suitcase.

“Hey, Naomi,” she says with a smile. It’s good to see her smile.

In the aftermath of everything with her injury and her Rookie of the Year award, I’ve noticed her smiles were much less freely given than they were earlier in the season.

“Well”—she pushes herself back to standing and shuffles a few times, like she’s finding a comfortable position for her knee—“good luck to you two losers.” She throws a wink in my direction, and I shake my head, smiling as I pull my hair elastic out and readjust my ponytail.

Punching Erica lightly in the shoulder, she starts making her way to the door.

“I’ll see you after the game, Erica!” she shouts over her shoulder before she closes the door behind her.

“Hey there, Sleeping Beauty,” Erica teases as I stand and walk to my own suitcase, digging through it to find my uniform for tonight—white pants, navy socks and belt, and sky blue jersey.

“Say whatever you want, Erica, that nap was heaven.” I start donning my uniform, blinking a few extra times to clear all the sleep from my eyes.

“Are you ready for tonight?” Erica asks me as she starts changing into her own uniform.

“I should be asking you that question, Miss Starting Pitcher.” The tease doesn’t hit the same as it did a few years ago.

“Of course, I’m ready,” she says, tucking her jersey into her pants and fighting the navy belt through the loops. “We’ve got this series in the bag. There’s no way we’ll lose tonight.” She smirks at me like she knows something I don’t.

“You say that like you have some secret weapon up your sleeve that I don’t know about.

And trust me, after four years, I think I’ve seen everything there is to see.

” I tuck in my jersey and pull at the elastic cuffs on my pants, making sure they’re covering the tops of my socks.

Happy with how everything’s fitting, I pull out my ponytail and go off in search of my brush.

“I do have a secret weapon!” Erica shouts as I slip into the bathroom and start dividing my hair for my signature Dutch braids.

She peeks her head around the corner, smiling at me with my arms in the air, painstakingly making sure I’ll have minimal hair problems during the game. “It’s called the power of friendship.”

Erica laughs and I kick her in the butt as she joins me in front of the mirror to fix up her hair.

“Don’t knock it till you’ve tried it, Naomi.

I think you’re going to be surprised at how much it makes a difference.

” I try to kick her butt again, but she jumps out of the way, raising her hands that have already finished putting her hair into a ponytail. “Now hurry up, we’re going to be late.”