Greetings. The usual Chapter 1 disclaimers. Always be safe. And please donate to Nifty.
This chapter has the team dealing with a controversial decision as they prepare for the State Tournament Finals. Playing at Seattle's Safeco has them excited. However, dealing with a decision by Coach Sanders they don't agree with has taken some of the glitter off the upcoming week. Can the Mustangs keep their cool and deal with some last minute adversity?
Write to thehakaanen@hotmail.com
Douglas
CHAPTER 58 GO TO STATE
<Saturday, May 17. Lacey baseball complex>
As the Mustangs loaded their gear and themselves on to the school bus for the drive back to Mayfield, Coach Sanders was chatting with the head coaches of Lakeshore, Kentburg, and Harborview High Schools.
"Your kids came a hell of a long way from back in March," the Lakeshore coach said.
"They had what one person called a `crisis in confidence'," Coach Sanders said. "It was like they had to relearn how to win."
"They did a damned good job of that. Twenty wins in twenty-one games is nothing to sneeze at, especially in baseball. A hot pitcher can stop even the best of teams in this crazy sport."
"Have you decided on your starting pitchers?" the Kentburg coach asked.
"I haven't given it much thought. I had too much to think about this weekend. Now I have something to think about over the next couple of days." He glanced over at the bus. "It looks like we're loaded and ready to go. Thanks for coming out to watch."
"We had to root for the Seamount League," the Harborview coach said. "I know the wife and I have already planned a long weekend in Seattle." The next weekend was Memorial Day weekend, and many schools would be off on Friday as well as Monday.
"I'm thinking about it," the Kentburg coach said.
"We've already planned a trip to the in-laws," the Lakeshore coach told them. "Of course, I could risk everything and change the plans," he added with a wide grin.
Coach Sanders bade the three coaches good-bye and boarded the bus.
"He's lying when he says he hasn't given his starting pitchers any thought. Anybody worth his coaching stripes would have been thinking long and hard about that. Who would you start first?" the Lakeshore coach asked the other two. "The big kid who was totally dominant today, or the smart little fucker who beats you with precision pitching?"
"They're both good. I'd go with the little dude, Eric, first," the Kentburg coach said. "I've seen the big kid have problems with his command. And today he demonstrated why he should never throw that shitty change-up of his. I'd rather have the kid who won't walk anybody pitch me to the championship game, then let the chips fall where they may."
"I'd go with the big kid," the Lakeshore coach said. "Blow the fuckers away and then take my chances on the title game."
"I think we all wish we were the coach having to make the decision," the Harborview coach said.
"Amen to that."
<Saturday, May 17, The Bears' Pizza>
Parents, coaches, players, students, and fans crowded into Mayfield's lone pizza parlor. The pizzas were on back order, with the players' orders taking precedence. The party room and the main restaurant were both packed.
The team was given their own table in the party room, but people came and went. The talk was of the two one-run wins in Regionals and of the upcoming State Finals in Seattle. Noah was busy doing research on his I-Pad.
Connor came strutting into the room with Vince. "You fuckers cost me money," Connor said.
"How the hell could we cost you money?" Kevin asked.
"I bet Vince a ten spot on each game that you would win by more than three runs."
"You're nuts," Kevin said.
"I'm broke, too. Who's buying me pizza?"
"Just grab some off the table," Scott said. "There's plenty there."
"Damn, thirteen K's," Connor said. "You the man, Scott. You gonna be pitching the title game at the Safe on Sunday?"
"I dunno. Coach will probably tell us Monday or Tuesday who's gonna pitch what." Scott knew who he thought should be pitching the Sunday game, but he wasn't about to tell anybody.
"Okay, guys. I know what the matchups will be on Friday," Noah said. The room got quiet in a hurry as the Mustangs waited to find out who they would be playing. "As you all know, the Region 2 winner plays the Region 1 winner. That would be us against the Whitman Wildcats in the five o'clock game. They are 19-6."
"Who are the other two teams?" Lars asked.
"North Lake Prep, 22-4, from Region 3 against the Riverville Shockers, 18-6 playing at eight fifteen. They are from the Palouse and wheat country."
"Jin plays for North Lake," Eric said.
"Yes he does," Noah said. "That could make things very interesting indeed."
<Saturday, May 17, the twins' bedroom>
"It's been awhile since you and me have gone all the way," Kraig said to Kevin. The twins were in Kevin's bed, still sweaty from a long session of sex. Kevin had fucked his older twin brother hard and deep.
"That's what happens when we fall in love with another guy."
"It could have been worse. We could've fallen in love with some girls, said we weren't gay, and never had sex together again."
"Bro, even if I was the straightest dude in Mayfield, I would still want your ass."
"There are straight dudes in Mayfield?" Kraig asked. He switched the topic over to baseball. "Great party at the Bear's. Nice to see Connor and Vince there."
"Everybody else is away at school," Kevin said.
"Lots of talk about who Coach is going to start next weekend."
"Well, we know it will be Eric and Scott. The only question is who will start the Friday game?"
"Who would you start, mister catcher? We all know that catchers are supposed to be like second coaches. The way everybody is talking, Scott is now our ace."
"And that is who I'd start on Friday. Only he will not even think of throwing that crappy changeup, because he knows I'll stuff the ball where the sun don't shine if he does."
Kraig thought about that for a moment and then asked, "Why? Don't you want the hard-throwing ace going in the championship game?"
"Three reasons why. First, we have to get to the championship game. Second, as a catcher, I trust Eric more on the mound than I do Scott. He is smarter and more consistent, plus he won't whine and try to shake me off every time he gets a hair up his ass."
"Maybe, but he's never really pitched well in the postseason. Last year he had his panic attack, and this year he lost the District game in which he just wasn't on, and he was kind of average in his Regional game."
"He sucked in Districts. But he did what he had to do to win in Regionals. You can't ask for more than that. He did get the big `W' after all. Which brings us to reason number three."
"Do tell."
"Nobody deserves to pitch in the championship game more than he does. Nobody. He got us here. His dream has us going to Safeco Field next week. He totally changed Mayfield baseball, right down to the coaching staff."
"Then couldn't you make the argument that he should start the first game to insure that he gets to pitch from the Safeco Field mound."
"Nope. We're going to win that game no matter who pitches. That's how I feel about it. He deserves to stand on that mound at Safeco and pitch us to the win he dreamed about back in sixth grade—the second straight State championship."
"What if he sucks?"
"If he sucks, then at least he knows he had the chance. That's all anybody could ask for."
"I guess...unless it's a second helping from somebody's twin brother."
Kevin gave his twin a long deep kiss. "Are you still on the bottom?"
"Can't think of why not."
<Monday, May 19, Mayfield High School>
[ERIC]
Coach Sanders scheduled a meeting for Monday, full practices for Tuesday and Wednesday, and a light practice for Thursday. We all knew that the main purpose of the meeting would be to tell us who, between Scott and me, would be pitching the Friday game at Safeco. We had a good idea of what the lineup would be. It hasn't changed much for the postseason. The differences from game to game had to do with who was pitching.
We met in Coach's classroom after school. He talked about some of the usual housekeeping things and about the schedule for Friday. The starting time for our game was five. The bus would be leaving at ten o'clock, giving us plenty of time to make the almost two and a half hour trip to Seattle, check into our hotel, and get something to eat, and make it to Safeco by four.
The Mayfield Booster Club rented us a luxury tour bus, paying the difference between that and the cost of a school bus. They estimated there would be five or six buses carrying fans to Seattle on Friday, along with many fans driving there in their own cars.
"My brother wants to know about the batboys," Lars said.
"I will contact them at the middle school tomorrow. The pairs will get to draw straws to see who works the first game." When I heard that, I almost wished he'd draw straws to pick the Friday pitcher. This waiting to see who was pitching which game was making me a nervous wreck. "They can all ride the bus with us. I have already talked to their parents. They will be sleeping in their parents' hotel accommodations." Jeffrey was the only batboy who didn't have a brother on the team, but his father had been an important part of our program for a long time. Plus, nobody was a bigger fan of Mustang baseball than he was.
We finally got to the announcement we'd all been waiting for, the starting pitchers. "I have decided to have Eric pitch the Friday game. Scott will pitch on Sunday after Eric picks up the win."
I don't know why, but I suddenly felt like I'd been punched in the gut. I knew that in the end it didn't make any difference which game I was picked for. Pitching a State Tournament game at Safeco Field was supposed to be a great honor—hell, it WAS a great honor. Yet, deep inside of me, I was willing to forgo pitching there for sure for the opportunity to start the championship game. As usual, Coach didn't explain his decision to the team, but said would talk to players individually.
There was a lot of talk among the players as the meeting broke up. I heard the noise, but I didn't hear the words. I was feeling disconnected from what was happening around me.
"Are you okay?" Noah asked me.
"Yeah, I'm fine," I lied.
"No, you're not. You didn't like the pitching decision."
"You know how I felt about it. But, I'll live with it. We can't get to the championship game without winning the first game, which makes my start pretty important."
"I thought that's how you'd react."
"Are we spending the night together?" Usually we have our week mapped out when it came to sleeping together, but this was not a normal week.
"I have some things to do. I'll call you."
That did not sound like Noah at all. Noah never had "things" to do; he always had specific tasks that he told me about. Noah was never wish-washy about anything. I was hoping he would say yes. I wanted him close to me right now, but I didn't want to leave the impression that I was having another one of my little moods, so I said nothing.
I walked home, stripped down to my briefs, grabbed my ball, and lay on my bed, once again studying the ceiling that I knew so well.
[NOAH]
When Coach Sanders announced Eric as the Friday starter, a lot of us exchanged looks. We knew what we were going to do next. When Coach ended the meeting, there was a lot of chatter among us. We all got out of our desks except for Eric, who remained seated, staring out the window.
"I need to talk to you outside as soon as you can get there. Without Eric," Kevin said.
"Sure, whatever." I walked over to Eric, who had one of those looks that said he wasn't happy with the world at the moment. No matter what he said, I don't think he liked the decision by Coach Sanders, even though it made perfect sense when you analyzed it. But, he was my boyfriend and my lover. My job was to get him out of his funk, either by stroking his ego or by calling him on his shit. It looked like this time it would be the latter when I got the chance to get him alone.
After we talked, we left the classroom. He headed for his locker and I headed for the breezeway to the gym. I saw the team gathered in the breezeway and walked over to them.
"How's Eric?" Scott asked.
"He's being a dork," I said. "He'll get over it."
"He should have gotten the championship game," Scott said.
"You mean instead of you? Why? You've pitched better than him the last few weeks."
"That's one reason I should pitch first. I mean we have to win on Friday, and I've got the hot hand. Not meaning to brag or anything, but that's the way it's been."
"You said that's one reason. What is the other reason?"
"We all know how much he means to us. Without Eric some of us would be thinking more about end of the school year parties than playing for the state championship this weekend. The Go to State Team was his dream and he sold us on it and we made it our dream. I want him on the mound when we win that second straight title that was a biggest part of that dream. It shouldn't be any other way. Coach Sanders doesn't screw up shit like this very often, but he made the wrong decision this time."
"We were talking while you were dealing with Eric," Kevin said to me. "We have an idea, but we need to see what you think. Eric is your boyfriend and you know him better than anybody. Let's head to Bob's for some milkshakes to talk this over."
"Milkshakes before dinner will ruin your appetite for dinner," I said kiddingly.
"Sometimes it's good to be little kids," Kevin said.
When we got to Bob's, we sat at the middle tables. Bob was doing the serving, and was really efficient. We got our milkshakes quickly and got to work.
The thing we all agreed on was that Eric should be the starter for the championship game. Chandler wondered if Eric might actually want to start the Friday game. I assured all of them that while Eric would never admit it to the team, he told me that he'd rather take the chance at not pitching from the Safeco Field mound and be slated for the title game than pitch for sure on Friday.
"So, what do we do now?" Danny asked.
"We all go to Coach Sanders tomorrow and tell him what we think," Scott said.
"That's not the right way," I said. I was amazed that everybody was listening to me. After all, I was not one of the players who was considered to be a team leader. "I think Kevin and Scott, the Friday battery, should see Coach. We have the starting catcher and co- captain as well as the pitcher who is willing to give up pitching the championship game doing the talking. They can say the entire team is behind them. If we all go, it would almost look like a mutiny is under way."
Everyone agreed that was the way to do it. We slurped the remains of our milkshakes and left Bob's feeling good about ourselves. Now it was time for me to get Eric's mind back on track.
[ERIC]
I was surprised when Noah called to tell me he was coming over and was going to spend the night. I had no idea what things he had to do, but obviously he had done them. Since he had a key to the house, he was able to let himself in and come right up to my room.
"You could have at least dressed up for my arrival," he said.
"I thought you liked me in briefs."
"I do, but I like watching you take your pants off first."
Noah snuggled in next to me on my bed. I gave him a long kiss and told him how much I loved him. "I see you timed yourself to get here just in time for dinner."
"I already told mom to set me a place. Looks like fried chicken and mashed potatoes tonight." That sounded good to me.
"I really can't believe we did it. I can't believe we actually, fucking did it."
"I assume you are referring to us going to the State finals."
"We went through a lot of shit over six years to get this chance."
"You must be off center," Noah said. "You've used up your entire monthly allotment of expletives in a matter of fifteen seconds. And you forget, we went through a lot more good times and good things than bad things to get here. We learned from our mistakes and we had our acts together when it counted."
"I'm sorry I was acting stupid after the meeting. It doesn't matter which game I start. I just want to do the best thing to help us win."
"If you start the first game you're guaranteed to pitch off of the Safeco Mound. There is no guarantee of a second game." I knew I was stating the obvious, but it wasn't time to tell him what the team decided this afternoon.
"If I had been selected for the second game, I'd still be out there on the field playing second base in the first game. I'd be where Dustin Ackley plays and where Brett Boone used to play."
"Not to mention Jose Lopez," Noah said with that twinkle in his eyes that glints right through his glasses.
"Okay, so no scenario is perfect."
I was happy that Noah came over and was going to spend the night. I don't mind sleeping alone, although I don't do it often. But when I get out of kilter, Noah always has a way of putting me back on track.
He was even better at it in bed that night. I needed his tight rear end, and he willingly let me have it.
<Tuesday, May 20>
[COACH SANDERS]
Phil, Coach Hart, Coach Ecklund, and I had dinner together at the Mayfield Café Sunday night. The crux of our discussion was which pitcher was going to start which game. We went over and over the situations, looking at what would benefit the team and the player the most. Even after we decided on Eric for Friday and then Scott, if we made the championship game, I had my doubts. I did not sleep well Sunday night, wondering if we made the right choice. I don't second guess myself very often, but this was one of those times.
I found myself second guessing myself even more after the Monday meeting. After making the announcement, I could see the look on Eric's face telling me how much he'd been hoping to pitch the championship game. What surprised me even more, I could tell from the reaction of the players that the decision they expected was Eric pitching the title game. I told Phil that night it wasn't a decision I could change.
"Why not?" he asked. "What makes it set in concrete?"
"I can't be waffling on lineup decisions because the players don't agree with it. It's a matter of who is running the team, them or me."
"I don't recall you saying anything about a player revolt this afternoon."
"I didn't. But, I could sense some discontent."
"Here are two things to think about, my love. First, you will always have discontent as a coach, which you damn well know. You've made it through some tough situations since taking over the program."
"And the second thing?"
"This isn't your normal group of high school boys. We've both given them a lot of freedom to police themselves, and, while there was a bump or two, they've done an extraordinary job. This might have been one of those rare times when their thoughts about who starts should have been solicited."
"True. But, now that Scott knows I picked him to pitch the title game, I can't just arbitrarily change that decision."
"Who said anything about being arbitrary? They've had a way of making our decisions for us before, and they just might do the same thing this time. Just be ready to listen to them."
It was a good thing we had that discussion. Sometimes, I think Phil knows these boys better than I do. When Scott and Kevin accosted me before school the next morning and told me they wanted to talk to me during lunch, I had a pretty good idea what the topic would be.
I was right on the mark. The two came into my classroom with their lunches and milk, each taking a desk at the front of the room. While the topic of discussion didn't surprise me, the two players coming in to talk to me about it, did. Not Kevin as much as Scott. After all, I had named Scott as the pitcher for the championship game.
"We think Scott should start Friday's game and Eric should start Sunday's game," Kevin said. Kevin certainly cut right to the chase.
"Is this something you two have concocted, or does the entire team agree?" I asked.
"The whole team agrees. We just didn't want to all come in and create a big mess," Scott said.
I thought that was a mature decision. I never ceased to be amazed by this group of boys. "So you don't mind giving up the honor of pitching the championship game?"
"I don't. I admit I do get something in return—I know I will be pitching off the Safeco Field mound."
"Eric knows that he would be doing that, too. Is he willing to give that up for a game he might not be pitching?"
"According to Noah, Eric will do whatever anybody asks him to do, and he will do it well," Kevin said. "But, way deep down inside, he wants that championship game. And every one of us on the team thinks he deserves it."
"I'll give it some thought. You will know what my final decision by tomorrow morning."
The boys thanked me, threw away their trash, and left the room. Phil had been right. I'd forgotten what kind of kids I was coaching. I'd forgotten what they had all done together. And I had surely forgotten how much respect they had for Eric. They respected him to the point where the boy who I'd chosen to pitch the game to determine the State Championship was willing to give it up.
Phil had told me to listen to what the team had to say. I leaned back in my chair and remembered a March day just over six years ago. I remembered the new sixth grader turning out for middle school baseball. I could see him trying to throw the ball right through Carl, who was catching him, in an attempt to impress me. My daydream finished with Kevin, who replaced Carl, and reining Eric in, reminding him to let up on the speed and just throw the ball for strikes, which is exactly what he did.
Eric had impressed me in many ways in the six years since that day. He and Kevin had forged a bond of friendship that first practice that remains to this day. It shows every time Eric pitches to Kevin—their two minds are almost always in sync. There is total trust between the two of them. In a way, that moment of bonding between the two eleven year olds brought us to where we are right now. I knew what the right thing to do was. I just needed to figure out how to do it.
<Wednesday, May 21>
[ERIC]
Scott, Kevin, and I sat in the gym office before practice. I knew what the meeting was going to be about. The team couldn't successfully keep the topic of Monday's milkshake party a total secret. Noah didn't want me to get blindsided, so he told me about the milkshake meeting this morning. He said that some of the players were going to talk to Coach.
I didn't know whether to ignore it all or get royally pissed off. I ended up getting pissed off, but didn't say anything to anybody. I didn't want them to think they couldn't trust Noah. He didn't tell me until this morning, but I couldn't help but be upset that everybody on the team knew what was going on and didn't bother to let me know.
Coach Sanders was sitting at the lone desk in the office. "I assume you know why we're having this meeting," he said.
We said that we did. I decided to have my say right away. "Coach, this wasn't my idea. I'm ready to do whatever you want me to do."
"Eric, I could go into a long philosophical discussion about why I am doing this. If you want to stop by my house some afternoon after the season, I'd be happy to talk about it. All I am going to say right now is that I made the wrong decision. I feel it would be best for the team for Scott to start on Friday, and for you to pitch on Sunday, if we make to Sunday."
I wanted to argue. I wanted to tell him that it wasn't right, that I was happy doing what was best for the team. But he had shut that argument down by saying his decision was for the best of the team not the best for me, so, being a team player, I kept my mouth shut. Still, I felt somewhat guilty by the sense of happiness that coursed through me after hearing the news.
Scott and I stood up, and I got my second surprise of the afternoon. The big stud wrapped his arms around me and gave me a long, heartfelt hug. "This is the way it was meant to be," he said. "and you better not think otherwise. I love you, dude, we all love you." I couldn't help but think of what I'd told Chandler when I had my little pep talk with him at Districts. "You will be pitching on Sunday...I guarantee it." He stunned me with a heartfelt kiss on the lips.
Kevin gave me the third surprise of the afternoon with a kiss of his own. Both kisses were right in front of Coach Saunders. "This is the way it was meant to be," he said, echoing Scott. I still wanted to argue that point, but I didn't. If Scott was good with this, then I had better be as well.
When we walked out of the office, Noah was standing right outside the door. "Well?" he asked.
"Coach saw the light," Kevin said.
I didn't see any light at all. The only thing I saw was darkness. Scott was the first pick to go on Sunday, and as far as I was concerned, as much as I wanted it, he should be the one pitching the title game.
<Thursday, May 22>
. [ERIC]
I watched as Noah packed his gym bag and carry-on. He retrieved a clear plastic bag with a neatly folded uniform shirt in it from his big walk-in closet. He took the shirt out of the bag and unfolded it. It was a Mayfield Mustangs shirt, with a large number 10 on the back and the name Neal stitched in over the number.
Noah and I had talked about doing something for Bobby if we went to State and to Safeco this year. He was reluctant, mainly because of the number of years that had passed.
"Bobby will be in my heart," is what he told me.
That was before he read "One Last Strike" by Tony LaRussa. In the book, LaRussa mentions Cardinal pitcher Darryl Kile, who was killed in a car accident when he was pitching for the Cards. He told how Kile's number was in a special place of honor at Busch Stadium, and how much it meant to LaRussa for that number to still be there.
"LaRussa talking about never forgetting Kile told me none of us should forget Bobby," Noah said. "His uniform should hang in our dugout at Safeco."
He talked to his teammates and to Coach Sanders about his feelings. The unanimous opinion was that Bobby was in the hearts of all of them. They agreed that the uniform belonged in their dugout.
I think everybody was afraid to bring the subject up because of Noah's past battle with his demon. But those battles were over and there was no need to tiptoe around the topic. I could tell that my lover was more than pleased with the reaction of the team when he brought up Bobby.
Noah looked at the pristine white uniform and grinned. I knew exactly what he was thinking.
"It needs some dirt on it," I said.
"Yep. It will look perfect with some Safeco Field infield dirt on the front."
We were both packed and ready for the morning's trip. It was time to wrap up our evening and get some sleep. We said goodnight to Noah's parents and prepared for bed.
"If I was pitching tomorrow, we'd be doing our routine tonight. It would be almost like normal. Now, we'll have to do it on Saturday in the hotel," I said to Noah, who was snuggled up to me in his bed.
"If you were pitching tomorrow, we'd be at your house tonight. And, you would have missed out sucking both my brother and me side-by- side, which you know was the hottest thing you've done all week."
That was true. It might have been the hottest thing I'd done all month when my by now seventeen year old boyfriend and his now fourteen year old brother put their dicks together for me to play with as I wanted—as long as I used my mouth. I suppose you can look at that as a perk for not being tomorrow's pitcher. I will say that their combined cum was very tasty. Nicky sucked me off to finish a very interesting evening.
"Still, I need to figure out how to handle Saturday night."
"You figure it out with some meditation and a good night's sleep. I mean, you have been pitching here in Mayfield since sixth grade, and you've managed to pitch five of those six years without a routine that has suddenly become cast in stone."
"I'm just saying..."
"---I'm just saying, shut up and go to sleep. You are once again thinking way too much."
"I'm too stoked about tomorrow to go to sleep. We're talking Safeco Field tomorrow, how can somebody sleep?"
"Easy. Shut up, close your eyes, rub your balls, and you're suddenly gone. Try it. It's going to work for me as soon as you quit jabbering."
He was right. I did what he suggested, including rubbing my balls, and I was soon asleep. Meditation might have been better, but Noah wasn't in the mood, which I thought was strange.
What was even stranger was the alarm going off while it was still dark out. I looked over at the clock and it read 2:00. What the hell was he doing setting the alarm for two in the morning?
Noah reached over and shut the alarm off. "Are you awake?"
"How could I help it? Somebody set the alarm for the middle of the night."
"Actually, it is early in the morning, but who's nitpicking?"
"I am."
He turned on the light and got out of bed. Like me, he was naked. He grabbed a hoodie off of his chair and threw me the other one that was there. I had wondered why he'd left them on the chair. He is very particular about everything being in its place.
Since he was putting his hoodie on, I got out of bed and put mine on. They both were Mayfield Mustang hoodies, dark blue with gold lettering. He didn't bother to put on pants as he slipped his feet into a pair of flip-flops. Another pair was sitting in the same place, so I put them on. I had no clue what Noah was up to, but getting up at two in the morning the night before a State Tournament game struck me as very odd.
We quietly walked down the stairs to the mudroom between the house and the garage. Noah pulled down a set of keys and we went out of the side door and to his car, which was parked on a concrete strip at the side of the garage. Noah was driving a five year old Toyota Corolla. Nothing fancy, but it ran and didn't use much gas, which was all he asked for.
"Where the fuck are we going?"
"You've already used up your allotted four letter words for the week."
"Sorry. Where are we going at this gawd awful hour of the morning, wearing only hoodies and no pants?"
"My advice for the evening holds. Shut up and let things play out."
"We're not supposed to be out in a car this hour of the night."
"The chances of us being stopped by the Mayfield gendarmes are slim to none."
While I didn't know where we were heading at first, I quickly figured it out. I shouldn't have been surprised at Noah pulling into the parking lot for the athletic fields. He killed the lights and stopped next to the ballpark.
We got out of the car, walked in through the gate, and stood on the grass of the dark field. I looked up at the sky. The night was beautiful, the cloudless sky filled with twinkling stars. Noah led me to the first base dugout, pulling off his hoodie as he went. This was his show, so I pulled mine off as well, hanging it on the dugout screen just like he did. We took off our flip-flops and were both naked. The grass was damp as we walked out to the pitcher's mound. Noah sat on the home plate side of the pitcher's rubber and told me to sit on the other side, facing him.
I knew now why we were here. It was time to focus our minds, to meditate, to rid ourselves of the problems that were holding us back, to look inside of us and to our spiritual selves to find the strength we needed for what was ahead.
We sat naked, our hands on each other's shoulders, our knees touching, our heads touching, and quietly went through our routine. It was still spring and the night air was chilly. But just like our morning meditations in Montana last year, being in each other's presence, made us feel warm to the depths of our souls. It was glorious.
We both came out of our meditative states at close to the same time. I shivered, feeling the chill for the first time.
"You guys set the whole pitching change thing up at that milkshake party I wasn't invited to." I tried to sound upset, but I wasn't being very successful.
"It doesn't matter when you pitch, you know," Noah said, ignoring my snit.
"I know. It would have been nice to have been part of the decision making."
"Part of life is knowing that some decisions aren't yours to make."
"I know that, too. I just need to be present in the moment and to savor the experience. That was what this was all about."
"Well said. No matter what, this season has been amazing."
"You are amazing. This was perfect. I needed this moment on the field. I needed to get connected with the game."
"I knew that. I thought this was the right time for it."
"Why not last night, a night with no game the next day."
"It didn't feel right."
I couldn't argue with him, because it felt completely right tonight. "What about sleep?" I asked as we put our hoodies on.
"Overrated. You can catch up on our fancy bus on our way to Seattle."
As we pulled out of the parking lot, Noah grabbed my bare thigh. "Remember Montana last summer?"
"My mind is still in its prime, how could I forget it? Tonight reminded me of it: wet grass sticking to our feet and butts, the cool air, the clear sky full of stars, getting lost inside of myself and finding myself there...the only thing missing was the sunrise."
"Dumb question, I know. I blame it on the hour of the morning. I was thinking of how we rode the bikes to the lake up in the mountains, and how I said that lake was a special place."
"I remember that. And we said that some day we would know our special place to make love."
Noah squeezed my thigh again, keeping his eyes on the road. No matter, I knew what he was thinking. "That was it? That was the place? The ballpark?"
He let go of me and gave me a sideways glance, his face glowing in the dark. "What do you think?"
"I love it. It's perfect, absolutely perfect."
"We just need to find the right time."
"I have no doubt we'll know when that happens, just like you knew this was the right time to sit on that field and connect with baseball."
"Or with the baseball gods," he said.
"Don't push it, Noah, don't push it."
He grinned again. "I love you, Eric."
"I am lucky to have you in my life to love. I think we're ready for Safeco."
Noah gave his bright grin, his eyes flashing through his glasses and lighting up the dark "I don't think we're ready, my love, I know we're ready. You and I are ready, the team is ready. Our dream time is coming to fruition, and we are all ready for it."
<Thursday, May 22>
[MARTY]
I was finished with finals. Rich's last final was at one. Our original plan was to pack up after his final and drive home Friday morning, But with the Mustangs playing at Safeco at five it was unlikely we'd be able to make the game on time. Instead, I packed the car in the morning with the help of James Cox, one of our teammates. As soon as Rich was finished, we'd be hitting the road. I'd already called Sparky and told him we'd be home a day earlier. Sparky had let me take his SUV to school a couple of weekends ago. He was using my car for the two weeks.
It was after ten when I dropped Rich off at his house. The SUV was packed with shit, but we'd organized it so he would have an easy time getting his stuff out. Rich's dad and Mikey were waiting for us and the unpacking was pretty quick. When I got home, I decided to save my unpacking for the next morning.
Sparky and Carla were still up. I gave them both hugs and we chatted for twenty minutes or so. They both had to be up early, so we didn't have a lot of time to talk.
"I assume the Hurricane is sound asleep."
"You are probably right, but don't do a flying leap into your bed," Sparky said.
Sure enough, there was a lump in the blankets when I entered the bedroom. There was no doubt about who created the lump. I took care of my bathroom business, undressed, and crawled into bed. I wasn't surprised that JJ was naked. I knew he'd be mad in the morning if I didn't wake him up, so I shook his skinny body.
"I'm home," I said, kissing his smooth cheek.
He blinked his eyes, rubbed them, moaned a little, then said, "I love you, Marty." He fell right back to sleep before I could say anything.
In the morning I heard the alarm go off. He clambered over me and turned it off. I knew some schools were off today, and Mayfield School District was one of them. He was getting up early so he could perform his batboy duties. He smiled as I watched him pull a worn pair of sweats over his sweet twelve year old bubble butt. The sweats were too tight on him, showing off his wares perfectly. He stood next to the bed, leaned in, and kissed me on the lips. He then scooted out. It looked like he was going to take care of morning business in the main house and let me sleep in. That simply made me love him even more.
<Friday, May 23>
The bus pulled away from Mayfield High School on time. The players arrived at the gym to get their equipment and the team equipment ready to load. The four batboys were already in the locker room getting things organized. Once again, everyone could see that they'd made the right choice of batboys.
Eric and Noah weren't the only ones to fall asleep on the comfortable bus. Coach Sanders didn't need to have the driver play the movie they'd chosen. Their minds weren't on the bus, they were at Safeco and thinking of the Whitman Wildcats.
When the bus entered Seattle on I-5, the players were all awake. They could see Safeco Field off to the left, the retractable roof wide open on the blue, sunny day. While Safeco was on the south end of town, their hotel was on the north end, near the Seattle Center. The state athletic association always looked for the best hotel within their rate limit. The teams that could afford it could upgrade if they wanted. Coach Sanders and Coach Fitzgerald, the athletic director, liked the choice of hotel. The players took their personal bags with them, but left all of the baseball gear in the bus, including uniforms. They were going to dress in the visitors' clubhouse room at Safeco.
As the players stepped off of the bus, a passerby would have seen a group of high school athletes wearing dress shirts, ties, dress pants, and dress shoes. Some were wearing their Mayfield team jacket; all were wearing their Mayfield baseball hats. The team looked professional in their dress and demeanor. The dress code was just one more statement by the incredible group of seniors on the Mayfield team. Even the four batboys were dressed in ties, although they would change into something more appropriate at Safeco.
The dress code all season had been to wear some form of dress pants and collared shirts to school on game days. The players were in uniform when they rode a bus to away games. Since the team would change in the Safeco visitors' locker room, Eric, Kevin, and Noah all felt they should step their dress code up a notch, just like they would be stepping their game on the field up a notch. It didn't take much convincing to have the team vote unanimously after a practice to dress to the hilt.
The hotel staff had seen many high school teams and groups as guests in their hotel, most of them disciplined and well-behaved. It took a lot to impress them. When the natty, well-mannered Mustangs entered the lobby of the hotel, they were duly impressed. After the team checked into the hotel, they went to lunch at the hotel restaurant. Many of the boys were pleased that they could order breakfast off of the menu and load up on the carbs.
Finally, the time came to ride the bus across town to Safeco Field. As the Mustangs stepped off of the bus into the players' parking lot and looked up at the big Major League stadium, they couldn't help but be awestruck. They had sworn they would not be small town boys and become overwhelmed by their surroundings, but that is exactly what they had become. Even the players who had watched the Mariners play at Safeco were momentarily intimidated by the venue. The good news was they had some time to acclimate. The bad news was they had yet to step onto the field.
Next: Safeco Field