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He smiles. “Sweet. Thanks, man.”
When I get home a while later, I shower, change, and stretch out on the couch, putting ESPN on then turning the volume low in the background. Rush’s question is still throwing me for a loop, and I lay in a kind of daze for a while, trying to sort through it all in my mind. Maybe I didn’t realize until he asked just how quickly all my feelings for Gabi have begun to return.
I grab my phone and bring up my personal social media account, the one I keep on private so I can have connections with just friends and family. Then I go into my photos and scroll through my albums from high school. It makes me smile, seeing the memories of what life was like back then. It wasn’t that long ago, but it sure feels like it, like a lifetime has happened since I was a cocky teen with the world at his fingertips.
The photos of me and Gabi are few and far between. She was never much for wanting to be in front of the camera, but it doesn’t take long for me to find the one I’m looking for.
It’s a picture Nicole took of the two of us during the summer, right before we left for school. We’d been out on a boat enjoying the warm weather all day and were sitting on a dock at Miller’s Landing. Our legs are crossed and we’re facing each other, leaning forward. I have her face in my hands, and we’re looking at each other like…
…like there’s no one else in the entire world.
It’s hard to look back on who we were and know the reason we’re not together anymore is because, at some point, I decided to give up. Throw in the towel.
Why couldn’t I have just told her how I really felt? Tell her something wasn’t working, but I was willing to do whatever it took to figure out how to fix whatever felt broken?
But any excuse I have is a copout.
The fact that something broke between us is my fucking fault.
And I don’t know if I’ll ever be able to forgive myself.
Scrimmages at the high school level are primarily two things.
First, they’re a low-stakes way to get those first-game jitters out before a real game. Even the most seasoned players get nervous before heading out onto the field for the first time in months, so it’s only natural that kids feel the same.
Second, but more importantly from a coaching perspective, it’s a chance to test the waters for things that are getting worked on in the off-season without risking a loss unnecessarily. Some players who are more superstitious might use it as a chance to try out new equipment. It might be a new hitting order or a chance for some of the players to test out different positions.
The Fall Ball scrimmage series the high school does each year with Spencer Creek and Belleview is a bit of a rivalry. To be honest, the kids care about it more than they do some of the regular season games. I certainly remember caring about it a whole lot, and with the first scrimmage right around the corner, I’m not surprised when Rush hands me a clipboard and a sheet of paper once we’re done with practice.
“Batting order,” he says. “Let me know what you think.”
I scan the list quickly then hand it back only a few seconds later. “I think you should bump Justin down.”
Rush leans back against his desk, setting the clipboard down then bracing himself with his hands against the edge. “Bump him down the list? Or bump him down a peg?”
I purse my lips. “Meaning?”
“Meaning…I don’t make a habit of letting player attitudes dictate the way I coach.”
“Well, maybe you should.”
He grins, unperturbed by my comment. “We all have different opinions about the best way to lead people, Bam. I see a kid like Justin, with all that attitude, and you know what I think my job is? To help him get better then send him on his way. I don’t need to be the person who fixes him.”
“But you could be.”
“Maybe, or maybe I just get into a pissing match with him like you are.”
“That’s not what I’m doing.”
“Then what are you doing?”
Gritting my teeth, I cross my arms, my frustration about Rush’s laidback approach and Justin’s shitty attitude melding together and bubbling over.
“I’m trying to get him to drop the ego. If he doesn’t learn how to do that, he’s going to make the same mistakes I did.”
Rush raises his eyebrows, clearly surprised at the direction this conversation has taken.
“I see a lot of me in Justin, alright? And think what you want about me believing he should be knocked down a peg, but I’m just trying to figure out how to get through to him.”
