We were up first, and right from the start, it was clear we were facing their best pitcher. He mowed us down with three strikeouts. Luke started for us, and they put a run across in the first inning. The score stayed 1–0 until the top of the third when we hit a solo home run to tie the game.
In the bottom of the third, they loaded the bases. Coach Kingwood had seen enough and brought in Daz to do his job as our middle reliever. He gave up a run on a fielder’s choice but struck out the next two batters to get us out of the inning.
Coach Kingwood looked down the bench, and his eyes locked on me.
“Go warm up. If Daz gets into trouble, I may want to use you. I want to save our best for Cuba,” he said.
I jogged out to the bullpen with that ringing endorsement bouncing around in my head. Patrick was in the bullpen and smiled when he saw they’d sent me out.
“They must really be in trouble if they think you can help,” he teased.
“I heard that Coach liked what he saw from your replacement. He’s thinking of starting him in the Gold Medal Game,” I shot back.
“I might believe you if he gets a hit,” he complained.
Patrick was one of our bats at the bottom of the order that couldn’t seem to get it going.
“I know there isn’t much time, but if you want, we can go to the batting cage for the next three days. We’ll see if we can figure it out,” I offered.
“At this point, I would try anything.”
I loosened up. In the bottom of the eighth, Daz was tiring. I looked at Patrick, and we decided I needed to get serious about getting ready. Daz got lucky, and his defense saved him with the first batter, but he promptly walked the second. Coach Kingwood trotted out to the mound. Since I was the only one warming up, I figured he wanted me to come into the game.
The stadium began playing music over the PA system. At first, I couldn’t figure out what it was from, but it sounded familiar. I couldn’t understand why the crowd stood up and began clapping. Then the light bulb came on: they were playing the theme song to James Bond. When I got to the mound, I stopped and then dropped into the pose that was shown at the beginning of the movies. That’s the one where they have a shadow of James Bond pointing his gun at a bad guy.
“What the heck are you doing?” Coach Kingwood asked.
“Bond, Ian Bond,” I said, taking the ball.
Coach Kingwood trudged back to the dugout, talking to himself. Something about this not being worth it.
I ignored his hating on me and took a moment to take in all my peeps cheering for me. I took off my cap and bowed. Apparently, the umpire wasn’t a fan.
“It looks like you’re ready. Play ball!”
Well, shit! I should have toned down the dramatics and thrown a few from the mound to get used to it.
I took a moment to collect myself. Daz mainly used the fastball and changeup, so I decided to break out my new curveball. I had to shake off my catcher five times before he called it, making me feel like a total rookie on the mound. I dug my fingernail into the seam of the ball and snapped off my curve. The batter thought it was a high weak fastball and watched as it dropped in for a strike. Next, I threw my split-finger fastball that had more speed, but still had some break to it. I struck him out with a changeup that I threw high in the zone.
I channeled the older Cuban pitcher I’d faced. That man had me tied in knots. His only weakness was he didn’t have much of a fastball anymore. While mine wasn’t the best one here, it was fast enough that you had to respect it. That was what the next batter found out as he guessed curve and I uncorked the heat.
I was up fifth in the top of the ninth. Unfortunately, I never got a shot to either even the score or win the game. We lost 2–1, to the delight of the home team. The Mexican team acted like they’d won the World Series. Well, they could claim that they were the only team to beat us. We waited for them to calm down and then did the whole handshake bit. I was reminded that it sort of sucked being the loser.
After the game, we met with Coach Kingwood in the locker room.
“We got that one out of our system. I don’t think I have to remind you what Monday’s game is all about.
“We’re giving you tomorrow off. I understand that David will probably come in for batting practice. If you want to join him, we can use the facilities in the morning. Sunday is a family day. I’ve talked to your parents, and they have activities planned. Then Monday will be a game day. Practice in the morning and the game at night.
“I just wanted to take a moment and say I’m proud of you all. I might not get a chance to talk to you after we win Monday night. It has been an honor and a joy to get to know each one of you. I’m sure that you will all go on to better things, and I hope that you look back on this journey with fond memories. I know I will.
“The tradition is that ice cream is for winners. Well, I consider you all winners,” he said as Yuri, Roc, and Phil carried out trays of ice cream bars.
That took the sting out of losing.
◊◊◊
Coach Kingwood pulled me aside after my shower.
“I wanted to tell you it has been a pleasure being your coach.”
“Thanks. I’ve had a fun time. I still can’t believe I made the team.”
“You had the perfect attitude and showed a lot of leadership. You’re exactly the kind of guy I want leading my teams. I wish you sucked a little because I could use you at my junior college,” Coach Kingwood said.
“If my plans don’t work out, I might take you up on that.”
“I wanted to give you one piece of news. You’ve been named to the preseason high school All-American Team by Baseball America. The Greene twins and Patrick made the first team with you. Allard and Austin made the second team.”
“I guess that means I’m good enough to make a living playing baseball,” I said.
“Yes. From what I heard, you might be a first-round draft pick out of high school,” Coach Kingwood assured me.
Could I really play the game I loved professionally? It would seem I would have a tough decision when the time came. For now, I would see how it all played out. All it would take would be an injury, and I would have to look at my plans differently. There was no sense in deciding now.
◊◊◊ Saturday August 20
I got up and went to breakfast. My favorite waitress waited on me and introduced me to a new dish, Mexican frittata. I personally liked frittatas. You could put a lot of leftovers into one and make either dinner or breakfast. They made theirs with chorizo, potatoes, tomatoes, scallions, black olives, fresh jalapeño, and pepper jack cheese, topped with a black bean and corn relish.
I’d loved the dishes Rosy had introduced me to when I stayed in LA with Halle, but this just seemed to be better. My waitress confided in me that the cook had found out the meals were for me. She had gone off the menu and prepared it like it was done at home.
◊◊◊
Batting practice found all the starters waiting for turns. The backups were coming in this afternoon. It was good to see my teammates put in the work. I spent a few minutes with each of them and just reminded them of their fundamentals and offered encouragement. There wasn’t much I could do for them with only a couple days left before we played Cuba.
Most of what they needed was to know they were okay. None of the guys in the five through nine slots in the order had any genuine issues with their swing. It was just the simple fact that we had only played seven games, six of which they had batted in. On average, they’d been up to the plate twenty times. We’d all been through slumps longer than twenty at-bats.