Page 33 of Leave It On The Field (Grand Slam 3)
“I certainly don’t mean to be.” She looks over at Ken who’s yelling my name again. “Ken needs you. Go. It will make me feel better. I’m fine.”
I hug her one more time, and then back up toward the interview room. I motion between us. “This—you and me—is the only thing that matters. Everything else is the distraction. Okay?”
“I know.” She nods and smiles. “Good luck tonight. I’m so proud of you.”
I blow her a kiss before I turn around and walk into the room. It’s packed. I’ve never seen this many reporters anywhere. And they’re all staring at me. The MLB woman who’s running the media room is frowning. She points to a chair on the podium between Alex and Manny.
“Sorry we’re starting a few minutes late everyone,” she says, looking at me again. “When I call on you, please say your name and media outlet and who your question is for. At the dais, we have Manny Roja who’s pitching for Miami tonight. Alex Molina who’s playing in his last season in the league. And Seb Miller who’s—well, he’s Seb Miller.”
Everyone laughs as she points to the first reporter. He mumbles his name and outlet. I’m not really paying attention until he says my name.
“Seb, your ninth season in the league and your first World Series. How are you feeling?”
“Uh.” A bunch of cameras flash as I look up. “Pretty much the same as every other game. You know, once we get on the field, it’s just baseball.”
“I’m sure you’re telling yourself that,” he says. The reporters laugh again. “You split your games against L.A. this season. Do you think you can turn it around for the series?”
“We only played two games against them, so I think a split is pretty decent.”
The reporter stands up. “A split’s not going to get the job done in the series though.”
“The series is seven games, man,” I say, shaking my head. “How are we going to split that? You know the difference between odd and even numbers, right?”
“Okay.” The MLB woman walks in front of me. “Let’s have a question for Alex about playing in his first World Series in his last season in the league.”
I look at Alex and mumble, “I hate this shit.”
“Couldn’t tell, man. You cover it so well.” He looks across me to Manny. “Right, Manny?”
Manny laughs. “So well. Seriously, Seb. Maybe after you retire, you can go into some kind of undercover work. No one can ever tell what you’re thinking.”
The MLB woman gives us a stern look. “Alex, do you need me to repeat the question?”
“I’m good. No, I don’t regret my decision to retire, and no, I won’t change my mind if we lose the World Series. And the thing I’ll miss most is my teammates.” Alex whacks my arm. “Even Mr. Personality here.”
* * *
We’re coming off the field after warm-ups. I flat out sucked. Nothing felt right. My energy level is still crazy. I’ve been trying to burn off the extra steam since I arrived at the stadium. Nothing’s calming me down.
“What’s wrong with you?” Bud follows me off the field. “Your throws were all over the place, and you were swinging way too early during batting practice.”
“I’m fine.” I walk past him into the dugout. “Just a little keyed up.”
“Well get it under control. You know the team follows your energy.”
“You good?” Alex pats my shoulder as we head down the tunnel to the clubhouse. “Your throws to second were high.”
“I know what they were,” I snarl. “Just worry about yourself.”
“Hey!” He steps in front of me and shoves my chest. “Not with me. Either tell me what’s wrong or get it under control, but keep the bullshit attitude to yourself.”
Alex is the only person who can get away with talking to me like that. I’ve known him my entire time in the league. We’ve played together since day one.
“Sorry, man,” I say. “I didn’t get much sleep last night. I have a lot on my mind.”
He nods. “Game related or Sophie related?”
“Sophie.”
