Page 94 of Leave It On The Field (Grand Slam 3)
I give her a high five and continue walking to my seat. As I walk into my row, the fans around me echo the sentiments.
“We’ve got you, Sophie.”
“Just enjoy the game.”
“Thanks, everyone,” I say, smiling and giving them a little wave as I slide into my seat.
Adie grabs my hand and squeezes it. “That was so lovely,” she says, a tear rolling out of her eye.
“Adie, stop.” I pat her hand as more tears escape. “No crying in baseball, remember?”
She squeaks. “I just love it when strangers support each other. It’s my crying kryptonite.”
“Everything’s your crying kryptonite. Mom, make her stop.”
I turn to Mom. She has tears streaming down her face, too.
“Both of you, stop.” I put my arms around their shoulders and hug them to me. “What are you going to be like when we tell you that we’re pregnant?”
“Stop it, Sophie.” Adie waves her hand in front of her face. “Stop. There’s too much emotion right now. If you tell me you’re pregnant, I will absolutely pass out on the spot.”
“I’m not pregnant. One major life event at a time.” I point their faces toward the dugout. “Look, the players are coming out for introductions. Concentrate on that.”
When Seb walks out of the dugout, he looks back at our section and smiles when he sees me.
“All good?” He mouths.
I nod and blow him a kiss.
“Don’t worry, Seb,” someone yells from behind me. “We have her back. Just play ball.”
Seb laughs as he turns around to take his spot in the line. When the announcer says his name, the crowd goes wild. He usually gets the loudest cheer, but I’ve never heard anything like this.
He takes his cap off and turns around a few times to acknowledge them. On his last turn, he looks back at me and winks. Just from the look on his face, I can tell we’re going to win tonight. The feeling sweeps all the way through my body. Seb told me once that some games just feel right—almost like everything’s moving in slow motion. I think that’s happening for him right now.
* * *
It’s the top of the ninth inning. We’re up 5-4. The other team has the bases loaded with two outs. The tension is so high in the stadium that I feel like I’m about to pass out.
Both teams have played hard, but Seb has been the star of the game. He had a two-run homer in the fifth, and he’s thrown out two runners attempting to steal second. Last inning, he snagged Jack’s throw from center and blocked a runner from tying the game. The runner slammed his body hard into Seb to try to get him to drop the ball. Seb didn’t budge. The guy bounced off him like a little kid.
He’s deep in the zone. Nothing seems to be bothering him. It’s the most important game of his life but he looks like he’s playing a game with his friends at the neighborhood lot.
I take a deep breath as the other team’s cleanup hitter walks to the plate. He’s played great tonight too. He could easily clear the bases with one swing.
“You’re going to twirl the hair right out of your head.”
Mom grabs my hand and lowers it to my side for the fourth time. It’s my tick when I’m anxious, and I’m about to lose my mind right now.
“We’re only one out away from winning the World Series.” I cover my eyes with my hands. “I can’t look.”
She pulls on my hands. “You can look and you will look.”
I peek through my fingers to see our team’s manager, Bud, walking out of the dugout. He calls a timeout.
“Oh, damn,” Dad says, “I think he’s going to pull Manny. There’s not a chance I would do that. You have to let him finish the game.”
“Agree,” Jack says. “Despite this current predicament, he’s dominated. What do you think, Soph?”
