Page 69 of Leave It On The Field (Grand Slam 3)
We lost tonight. 4-1. Seb went 0 for 3. None of our players could hit L.A.’s pitcher. He was throwing smoke all night.
I’m waiting for him to come off the field. Mason, Millie, Mack, and Mo are with me.
“He hasn’t stopped clinging to you for hours,” Mack says as he looks at Mo still fast asleep on my shoulder.
“I think he senses my emotional neediness right now.” I hug Mo tighter. “He’s trying to love the stress out of me, and I think it’s working.”
“Yeah, he’s a sensitive little guy. He picks up on stuff like that,” Mack says. “I’m sorry you’re going through all of this. I seriously don’t know what’s wrong with some people. I’m a big baseball fan, but I could give a crap about the players’ personal lives, and that goes double for their families.”
“I don’t understand it either. The amount of hate I get is almost stunning.”
“Speaking of hate,” Mason says, nodding his head to Drew who’s charging toward us. “Little man is on the war path again.”
“Sophia!”
“What now, Drew?” I turn my body to block him from Mo. “What else have I done wrong? Maybe call Ricky so he can get it up on Twitter.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he hisses, “but I do know you have too many people in your group. Each family only gets four after-game passes, even the Seb Miller family.”
“One, two,” I say, pointing at Millie and Mason then to Mack and me, “three, four.”
Drew swats Mo’s back. “Five.”
Mack grabs Drew’s wrist and bends it back until Drew yelps and falls to his knees.
“Dad, stop,” Millie says. “He’s Miami’s GM.”
“I don’t care who he is,” Mack says, giving Drew’s wrist a twist before he releases it. “Touch my grandson again and you’re going to lose that hand.”
“Dad!” Millie steps between Mack and Drew. “Please take Mo and meet us back at the hotel.”
Mack glares at Drew for another second, and then lifts Mo off me. Mo wakes up and starts crying.
“Don’t cry,” I say, kissing his silky cheek. “I’ll see you back at the hotel.”
“Don’t worry, little man. I have the same reaction when I have to leave her.” Seb comes up behind us and stands right in front of Drew, blocking him from our group. “Is this the famous Mo? Nice jersey, little man. Do you want me to sign it for you?”
Joe walks over and hands Seb a Sharpie. Mo immediately grabs it and starts sucking on it.
Mack laughs. “I think he wants to eat the pen more than get an autograph.”
“Seb,” Millie says, “this is my dad, Mack.”
“Nice to finally meet you,” Seb says as Mack shifts Mo to his other arm so he can shake Seb’s hand. “I’ve heard a lot about you.”
“Most of it good I hope,” Mack says. “Nice to meet you too. I’m a big fan.”
“Appreciate it. Sorry you had to see such a crappy game.”
“Not much you can do when you run into a buzzsaw like that.” Mack shakes his head. “His sinker is crazy.”
“Yeah, it moves like there’s a magic spell on it or something,” Seb says.
“Seb,” Joe says, handing him a baseball and another Sharpie, “it’s time to go. Why don’t you sign this? I don’t think the little bruiser is going to let you sign his jersey.”
Seb scrawls a quick autograph on the ball and hands it to Mo. Mo tries to take a bite of it.
Mason grabs it from him. “No, buddy. This one’s too valuable for you to smear. We have to protect it.”
