Page 31

Harper

Whatever Denise saw in Jamil today was turning out to be much more than either of us had expected.

With three at-bats so far, Jamil had hit a home run, a single, and a triple.

If he managed to hit a double before the end of the game, he’d hit for a cycle and potentially collect the most runs batted in thus far in his career.

The stadium was on edge, the anticipation building as they waited for Jamil to come to the plate again for his next at-bat.

It was the bottom of the eighth, Jamil’s last chance at making the unthinkable happen. It was now or never, with the stakes higher than they’d ever been this game. The Cougars were up by three runs. The game wasn’t on the line, but Jamil’s chance at etching his name in the history books was.

I never understood how athletes didn’t crack under this kind of pressure.

If Jamil was nervous, he didn’t show it as he walked out of the dugout toward the on-deck circle to wait for his at-bat.

Denise and I must have had enough nervousness for him as we clutched each other’s hands.

There was an unspoken rule in baseball that when something magical was happening, no one spoke of it.

If a pitcher was throwing a perfect game, you didn’t mention it.

If a player was about to break a record, you didn’t mention it.

If a batter was about to bat for a cycle, you didn’t mention it.

The unmentionable lay over the crowd like a heavy blanket as we watched the first pitch sail into the catcher’s glove to be called a ball.

Jamil stepped out of the box to redo his batter’s gloves before touching the top of his helmet and stepping back in for the next pitch.

He was the picture of steady patience—a strong tree never bending in the face of a storm.

The world slowed as the pitcher wound up to deliver the next pitch. If I was any closer to the field, I would have been able to see every rotation of the ball as it soared toward Jamil. The crack of his bat hitting the ball was nearly deafening as he sent it back in the opposite direction.

My heart pounded fiercely in my ears as I tracked the ball into the outfield.

Denise’s grip on my hand tightened as we watched the ball get past both middle infielders.

Jamil rounded first base, his eyes locked on second.

Just because no one spoke about a player on the verge of the unthinkable didn’t mean the player was oblivious to what was happening.

Fierce determination was written all over Jamil’s face as his arms pumped hard and his legs tried to carry him safely into second. The centerfielder had already chased down his hit and was rearing back to throw it to get him out.

Denise sounded like she was down a tunnel as she screamed for Jamil to run faster. For a moment, I stopped breathing as I watched him lean back to slide into second, just as the ball hit the fielder’s glove and he moved to tag Jamil.

A pin drop could have been heard around the stadium as everyone waited for the umpire to make the call. Was he safe or was he out?

The umpire’s arms extended out sideways, signaling that Jamil was safe.

The cheers that erupted were like a World Series or Super Bowl win.

Fans were jumping up and down with their arms extended over their head as if the game had just been won in that very moment.

Some were clutching each other. Others were high-fiving fellow fans around them.

The only thing that everyone was doing collectively was chanting Jamil’s name.

“He did it!” Denise exclaimed, her arms wrapping around my shoulders as she jumped excitedly. “He did it!”

“He did,” I breathed, my eyes still locked on Jamil as he stood up on second base. His eyes were scanning the stadium, only stopping when they landed on me and his mom. He had yet to smile or celebrate the achievement he’d just completed, until he saw the two of us.

There was a sparkle in Denise’s eyes as she reached down to squeeze my hand. I scribbled furiously in my notes, detailing exactly how Jamil had just completed this major feat as the Cougars took the field to close out the game.

My heart was still beating rapidly as the score was announced and the teams slowly started to filter off the field. The adrenaline running through me felt like I’d been the one sliding into second and being celebrated like a god.

Jamil was lingering as my crew and I walked out onto the field. The moment I was within ten feet of him, his shoulders relaxed, and he turned around to face me.

“Congratulations!” I threw my arms out, unable to hide my excitement for his success.

Without a second of hesitation, Jamil wrapped his arms around my legs and lifted me into the air.

The laugh that bubbled out of him reminded me of a child with the joy that he was displaying.

It was infectious and I was nearly in tears from laughing as he spun me in a circle, the breeze whipping my hair around my face.

“Another compliment from Harper Nelson? Has hell frozen over? Are pigs flying outside? Do I need to put in for a lottery ticket when I leave here?”

“I think you need to put in for a lottery ticket by your performance alone,” I told him. If possible, I would have frozen us in that moment; if only I could stay in his arms just a little longer.

“Jamil!” I hit the tops of his shoulders. “You’ve got to put me down so I can do my job.”

“Are you interviewing me?” Jamil asked as he gingerly put me back on my feet. “It’s about time. The people would assume you were shying away from me after the sparks that flew last time.”

“You are full of yourself,” I told him.

“I’d like to call it confident.” He stared at me with a wolfish smile.

My camera crew had already set up and had my microphone waiting for me once I’d turned to them. Players’ families were mingling around the field, taking pictures, or watching the younger kids run the bases as I fluffed my hair and prepared for the camera to go live.

“Jamil, you’ve been on this upward trajectory with your performance and somehow, you’ve done the impossible and topped yourself once again.

You broke the home run record last season, which cemented your name with the greats in baseball history.

Now you’re chipping away at other accolades. What are you doing to stay the course?”

He leaned in so he was close enough to my microphone to be heard. His body loomed over mine, the proximity between us mere inches, as people crushed around us. “I’m trying to keep my head down and continue doing what I’ve always done—work hard, improve my skills, and be a team player.”

“The fans are so excited for your achievement,” I continued, pointing toward the still mostly full stadium as they watched my interview with Jamil on the Jumbotron in the outfield. At the mention of them, cheers erupted once again. “What does the support from them mean to you?”

Jamil cast his eyes around the stadium, even giving the crowd a small wave, before leaning back into the microphone.

“The only things that keep me going are my family, my friends, and Cougar Nation. There isn’t another city like this one.

I want to do right by all of you. Every time I get to celebrate, we get to celebrate together.

I’m so thankful for the support and I think I speak on behalf of the team when I say that we want to make this city proud. ”

“The next game is giving away a signed jersey to a lucky ticket holder,” I continued, trying to finish up the interview. “Rumor is it’s standing room only because of that jersey.”

“I know one person I wouldn’t mind seeing my last name across their back.” Jamil flashed a smile. “Thanks for the interview, Harper.”

He turned and ran away, fully aware that I would throttle him later for making a comment like that which would only feed the fire on social media.

I twirled the microphone around in my hand as I watched him duck into the dugout and disappear into the hallway beyond. My eyes stayed on the spot I last saw him for seconds longer than necessary as I realized how far gone I already was.