Page 21 of Broken Love (Love 2)
When I look up, a dusty-uniformed Pike is standing in front of me.
"Come on, bud. You gotta be part of the celebration. We wouldn't be here if it weren't for you." He and a teammate lift me onto their shoulders and carry me out onto the field.
"What do you say, Carter?" I ask, pointing at Pike. "Will you help me?"
Carter fist bumps me, remembering. "I'd say you owe him."
We rush over to the dugout.
"Come on, bud," I say to Pike. "You gotta be part of the celebration. They wouldn't be here if it weren't for you."
We don't really wait for an answer. We lift him onto our shoulders and carry him out to the field.
Pike
Confetti rains down on me. Players congratulate each other.
I'm overcome with emotion.
And it's more than the thrill of victory. As I sit atop Cade and Carter's shoulders celebrating with my team, I realize that for the first time in years, my life feels right.
Palmer
I'm running with the players' families onto the field, looking for my brother, as the confetti rains down.
When I finally spot him, I stop dead in my tracks.
Carter and Cade have lifted him up on their shoulders and are carrying him out on the field--just like my brother did for Cade so many years ago.
I put my head down, mourning the loss of their friendship.
And knowing I caused it.
But as I continue to watch them, noticing the grins on their faces, I realize that maybe, just maybe, there is hope that they might overcome it.
Pike
After the trophy is given to us, the interviews are finished, the fans are applauded, and the confetti settles down, the team makes its way to the clubhouse.
Goggles are handed to us as we go inside. The lockers are covered in plastic in preparation for this.
Magnums of champagne are being guzzled and sprayed. Teammates are cheering, hugging, and pouring full bottles of champagne on each other's heads.
Everyone is soaked.
The music is turned up.
Coach holds up the trophy and more champagne flies. Players take turn holding the trophy and getting doused with champagne.
This goes on for at least an hour. Finally, everyone settles down, the win actually sinking in.
"We did it," a player says. "I can't believe we actually did it."
"I've been dreaming of this day since I was a kid," another says.
The team trainer helps me take off the splint everyone signed. I hold it up into the air to more cheers and then it's hung on the wall. The words World Series Champs are drawn graffiti-style on the other splint and added to the top.
I stand up on one leg and yell out, "Somebody get me a fucking boot!"
Cade
Palmer and I meet up after the team goes to the clubhouse.
"Need a lift?" I ask her. "I've got a limo."
"That sounds great," she says.
She's quiet in the car.
I put my hand on her knee. "What are you thinking about?"
"What you did for Pike," she says, tearing up, "was beautiful."
"I don't know about beautiful. He was hurt. I helped him. That's what teammates do."
"Except that you're not teammates anymore. You're not even friends. And it's all my fault. How can you not hate me for it?"
"Palmer, let's not get into this right now. It's been an amazing night. Your brother just won his first Series."
"See, you saying that tells me that you do!"
"I don't hate you."
"But you did."
"Sure, I did! I loved you, and your brother was my best friend. When you broke up with me, not only did I lose the love of my life, I lost my best friend, too. But I take equal blame. I should have told him how I felt about you years before that."
"How did you feel?" she whispers.
"Like we belonged together."
"I still feel that way, Cade."
"I do, too." I wrap my arm around her and enjoy that moment when she melts into my shoulder. She's worth fighting for. "And I don't care what anyone, including your brother, thinks. This is about our happiness, and we deserve to be happy. Starting now."
November 6th
Palmer
"Did you see this?" I ask Tory, turning on the TV in my office.
"I saw it live last night," she says, "I thought it was--"
"Folks," the announcer says, running a video clip. "This is the All-Star pitcher, Pike Montlake, whose fastball has inspired young pitchers around the world. As you all know, he suffered a horrific ankle and leg break in the first game of the Series. But he was back last night, cheering on his team. When that double play was made for the win, the team ran out onto the field. Everyone except for Pike, who is in a wheelchair. Now watch as two men come down from the stands, lift Pike onto their shoulders, and carry him out to celebrate.
"What you may not remember is that this same scene played out in similar fashion in another big game fifteen years earlier. It's the final game in the College World Series. Pike Montlake has pitched a nearly perfect game. A pop fly to centerfield means the runner on third tags up and takes off. And on this play, major league draft pick Cade Crawford is injured and carted off the field.
"With the winning run on second base and a back-up catcher, Pike throws three beautiful fastballs across home plate, for the strike out and the win. Pike is tackled on the mound, but watch what he does. He grabs a teammate, runs to the dugout, and puts a booted-up Crawford on their shoulders. The man last night who carried Pike onto the field to celebrate with his team was none other than Cade Crawford. This scene right here is why baseball is America's sport. A sport that goes beyond apple pie and hotdogs. It's the brotherhood and the friendships, that are formed on the Little League fields. It's the camaraderie. The love--felt in every city and country in our great land. Congratulations, Tampa, you are the World Series Champions!"
"You're crying," Tory says, wiping tears from her own eyes.
"I ruined that friendship," I tell her.
"From what I sa
w, it looks like it's still there."
"Maybe."
"Did Pike say anything about it?"
"He didn't come home last night. They moved the party from the clubhouse to the hotel. Then he went straight to interviews this morning."
"Oh, look!" Tory says, "He's on now!"
"Quick, turn it back up!" I say, as she fumbles with the remote.
"It's great to have you here, Pike," the sportscaster says. "You just watched those touching scenes. Can you tell me how it feels to have your lifelong friend return a fifteen-year-old favor?"
Pike scratches his forehead, then says, "It felt really great, Chad. Really great."
"Aww," Tory says, "he's all choked up. That's so sweet. I love baseball."
"You never watch baseball."
"I didn't realize it was so emotional," she says, fanning her face. "Plus, I met this guy at the bar last night who is in the minor leagues. Talk about a hottie."
The interviewer says to Pike, "And we heard a rumor about your future."
Pike says coyly, "Which one?"
"That you're in talks with L.A. to become their pitching coach. You going to take them up on it?"
"I'm under contract with Tampa, and we just won the World Series. That's what we should be talking about. Not to mention the fact that I'm not sure how my injury will affect my career."
"Okay, let's talk hypothetically. You decide to retire. Then what?"
Pike gives him a wide smile. "Well, I am a So Cal boy. I'd love to come back home, eventually."
"Wow," I say. "Just the other day he was telling me he wanted to buy a house on the Gulf."
"Maybe he thought that was his only option," Tory says. "Speaking of options." She flashes me her phone. "Which guy should I hang out with tonight? This one or this one?"
"What the hell, Tory?" I scream. "Those are dick pictures!"
"Nothing wrong with checking out the package before you buy the product," she giggles.
November 7th Pike
The days following the World Series win are a whirlwind of celebrations and interviews. The side-by-side shots of Cade and I are still playing on the news. We've become the poster children for what baseball is all about.
