Page 97 of Leave It On The Field (Grand Slam 3)
I look at Bud. “You heard the man. Let us do our thing.”
Bud shakes his head and turns to walk off the field. “Get it done. I’ll need an entire case of champagne after this.”
“Are we good?” I ask. Everyone nods. “Alright. See you on the other side, fellas.”
Derek nods at me as I make it back to the plate. “You figure a way to get me out? You haven’t yet tonight.”
I flip my mask down and crouch into position without replying. I hold my glove out to the side. Manny throws one wide.
“Seriously, man?” Derek steps off the plate. He clinks his bat on his cleats a few times to shake off some loose dirt. “You’re going to put me on? Come on, Miller. You’re way more competitive than that.”
I stand up and throw the ball back to Manny. I flip my mask up and act like I’m wiping sweat off my forehead. Alex and Dom nod slightly as we watch the kid make his way back to third base. He took an enormous lead—almost halfway down the line.
I flip my mask back down and crouch into position. Derek sighs and steps back into the batter’s box. Dom starts charging the plate.
I hear Derek mutter, “I’m not going to fucking bunt.”
I flash a sign to Manny for low and away. He rears back and throws. Then it all happens in slow motion.
I see the ball coming in. It looks as big as a basketball. I put my glove down to catch it. Out of the corner of my eye, I see Alex moving toward third base.
The ball lands in my glove. The kid’s halfway to home plate again. He starts to turn when he sees me spring up. He looks at Dom who’s about even with him then spins around to see Alex closing in on third base. He hesitates toward home, then heads back toward third. He takes a few quick steps and launches his body into the air as he tries to dive back into the base.
As Alex closes in, I throw a bullet to him. It comes in right at the bag where Alex’s glove is waiting. Alex closes his glove over the ball and swipes it across the kid’s hands as they desperately reach toward the base. When Alex holds his glove up to show he has the ball, the ump windmills his arm toward the bag and punches the kid out.
As the stadium erupts all around us, I pat Derek’s shoulder. “You’re right. I’m way too competitive to put you on base. Nice series, man.”
When I turn back to third, Alex is charging at me. I flip up my mask and prepare for impact. He launches his body into mine, his glove held high with the ball still in it.
As the rest of the team starts piling on us, I grab the ball out of his glove and bury it into my pocket. That ball’s going on his mantle somewhere right next to his series MVP trophy.
The scene keeps getting crazier as more people join us on the field. Photographers are shoving cameras at us. Our PR staff is passing out caps and t-shirts that say “World Series Champions.” Reporters are trying to pull us aside for interviews. But all I can think about is finding Sophie.
I look over to where she’s sitting but don’t see her. I’m guessing she’s somewhere in the middle of the celebration huddle of our friends and family. I take a few steps in that direction.
A big, bald guy nods at me and yells, “You looking for Sophie?”
“Yeah,” I yell back. “Who are you?”
“I’m Bob,” he says, waving. “Nice to meet you. You’re my second favorite player ever.”
“Uh, thanks,” I say, laughing. “You see my wife in that?”
He nods. “Yeah. Give me a second.”
“Sophie!” he yells. “Seb’s looking for you.”
I watch as Bob peers through the huddle. I see two slender hands reaching out through the bodies. Bob grabs the hands and pulls. When Sophie pops out, he points at me. When she sees me, a huge smile erupts on her face.
I point toward the dugout and yell. “First person I see when I come off the field.”
“Always!” she yells back as she blows me a kiss.
“Seb.” Ray Franklin is headed over to me—pen and pad at the ready. “Congratulations, man. What does it feel like to be a World Series champion?”
“It feels unbelievable. I’m floating right now.”
“Whose idea was the pickoff play to end the game? I’m assuming that was planned.”
