Frank would make this into a great video.
David was walking to the baseball field when his phone rang. It was his dad.
“David.”
“Dad.”
“Talk to me.”
The beautiful thing about talking to his dad instead of his mom was they could quickly get through all that had happened yesterday. But before David could get a word in, his dad beat him to it.
“Congratulations on the scholarship. I hate how you got it, but the football team should have ponied up,” Dad said.
“I agree. They told me that my baseball one would go away next fall. By then, the football team situation should be sorted out.”
“I wanted to let you know that Umberto contacted Fritz. I authorized Fritz to share the videos of what happened. Why wasn’t your door locked?” Dad asked.
“Don’t get me started on that. Alex never seems to lock it. I think it goes back to when he lived in Colombia. No one would dare break into the Sandovals’ home, so he’s never worried about it,” David responded.
“That’s about to change. Umberto told Fritz to put an automatic closer and lock on your dorm suite door. Umberto’s also putting permanent personal security on both Alex and Natalia.”
That was something David had been glad to ditch for college. He didn’t need someone following him around 24/7.
“Sucks to be them,” he said.
“If your mom had her way...”
“I love you, Dad,” he said, knowing his father had intervened on his behalf to stop his mom.
David arrived at the baseball field.
“I’ve got to go. We have a game tonight at UCLA, and I need to grab my gear for the bus.”
“Ashley and Peggy are going to the game tonight,” Dad said to give David a heads-up.
“I’ll look for them,” David said. “And seriously, Dad. Thanks for not forcing security on me.”
“You’d tell me if you thought you needed it, right?” Dad asked.
“I’d probably just talk to Fritz,” David admitted.
His dad chuckled.
“I sometimes forget that you’re not my little boy anymore and can fend for yourself.”
“I haven’t grown up completely. I’m sure I’ll need you and mom down the road,” David conceded.
“Okay. Good luck tonight,” his dad said and then hung up.
The centrifugal force shook David awake as the bus left the 405 at the Wilshire Boulevard exit. David had taken a power nap on the ride to UCLA. After leaving the highway, it only took them a few minutes to reach Jackie Robinson Stadium.
When the bus pulled up to the players entrance, David groaned. Waiting were fans and what looked like a rabid group of paparazzi. He mentally kicked himself for playing it cute with Cassie Krieger.
Then he had a thought. Maybe this was just how it was for the USC versus UCLA rivalry. What was the quote? It was a great day for USC when both Notre Dame and UCLA lost. In football, those were the only two games that truly mattered.
“What the hell is that all about?” Andres asked, dashing David’s hopes that the reporters were there for the rivalry.
“I think you are about to experience the downside of fame,” David predicted.
Once the bus came to a complete stop, the crowd surged forward, blocking the door. This was a moment when David wished he had security with him.
That was when David discovered that he loved their bus driver. The driver opened the door and went down a couple of steps as he faced the crowd.
“Back up! Make a hole!” he barked.
David was impressed when the crowd did just that. Their driver was a crusty old guy, but his ex-high school coach, retired Marine Major Anthony Hope, had nothing on this guy. When the crowd parted, the driver waded in and made sure there was a clear shot to the stadium door. Coach Deneau got up and led them off the bus.
When David reached the bus entrance, he was spotted.
’Frick!’ he thought as the frenzy began.
“David!” “David, look this way!” “David, is it true...!” or some combination thereof was shouted by the paparazzi.
The gist of their interest was his supposed new relationship with Fiona. Honestly, it wouldn’t be so bad if it were true. He hated how the press just made these assumptions.
When they got to the locker room, the sports reporters were every bit as bad. Though instead of wanting a quote from David about his love life, they asked him baseball-related stuff. David gave Andres an apologetic look because this was supposed to be the senior’s role on the team as captain.
At first, David was taken aback by the attention, but he soon got his feet under him. He wasn’t used to having reporters in the locker room before the game. In high school, that never happened. Thankfully, the coaches kicked the press out when they started to become pests.
Under normal circumstances, they would come in, get a quote or three, and then let the team prepare for the game. Today, they had the novelty of a celebrity in the midst, plus two starters had just been kicked off the team. Add in that this was a game against a hated rival, and it was the perfect storm, as far as the press was concerned.
When David came out onto the field to warm up, he saw that the stands were already packed. At LA sporting events, the crowds typically arrived late and left early. To see the stadium full was a bit shocking since the game hadn’t even started.
Part of the reason could have been that UCLA’s baseball stadium was the smallest in the Pac-12. It only held about 1,800 people. David’s high school stadium held more people.
The seats closest to their dugout were where USC’s friends and families were seated. David spotted Ashley and Peggy. He tipped his cap to them and then began to focus on the upcoming game.
The locker room after warm-ups was a bit more focused than usual. David supposed big crowds and reporters would always have that effect. When they came back to the field, though, they were faced with an overflowing crowd. The fans were boisterous when UCLA took the field.
It was finally game time, and David stepped out to take some practice swings. It was for moments like this that David played sports. UCLA was currently undefeated at 7–0, while USC was 3–3. For this game, records didn’t matter, and the crowd knew that. David loved that they were vocally supporting their team. This was what college baseball should be.
When the umpire indicated the last warm-up pitch, David began his walk to the batter’s box. Mentally, he ran through his steps for hitting a baseball and began to focus on the task at hand. David assumed that UCLA’s pitcher would want to set the tone with the first batter he faced. He suspected the guy would throw the heat. David knew that the pitcher’s adrenaline would be pumping, and more than likely, he would overthrow the pitch. When they did that, it rose in the zone.
With all that in mind, David was able to guess right. The first pitch screamed home. David made a slight adjustment to his stance and then ripped the bat head through the strike zone. It sounded good coming off the bat. The pitcher’s head snapped around and watched a towering shot as it drifted just foul.
David was pissed that he’d been a little behind on that one. From the pitcher’s body language, David could tell that he was going to throw at him.
“You’d better say something to him. I don’t feel like getting drilled,” David told the umpire.
The man just glared at David, so he got back into the box.
Sure enough, the next pitch was in the middle of his back. He was reminded that he owed a considerable debt to Range Sports because their protective gear did its job. While it’s never pleasant to get hit by a baseball, without that protection, he might have been down for the count. The umpire rushed from behind the plate and stepped between David and UCLA’s pitcher.
UCLA’s catcher went to grab David, but the umpire glared at him.