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He just stares at me, looking bewildered.
“You think you’re so much better? Think all these guys are just a bunch of old hacks? Prove it. Come show everyone how you—a sixteen-year-old kid—can light them up.”
Justin’s eyes narrow, but that confusion is still there. “What are you playing at?”
“Not playing at anything, Justin. You talk more shit than anybody I know.” I shrug. “Just thought maybe you’d like to do more than talk.”
When he doesn’t say yes or no, I take a step back.
“Look, think about it. At the very minimum, baseball is out until January, right? It’s one more chance to play before everything shuts down for six weeks. We start at nine, and I hope you’ll be there.”
When I turn, Justin speaks again.
“I thought you said high schoolers can’t play. Said you have to be an alum.”
I glance back at him. “Maybe I’m willing to make an exception. You can play in my place.”
I continue walking down the hall, finally heading toward Gabi’s classroom and leaving Justin behind. I’m not sure if this idea will have any impact on the kid or if I’m grasping at straws, but my dad was right when he said you just have to keep trying.
And who knows? Maybe this will finally be the idea that makes a difference. I can only hope I poked him just enough that he’ll show. Maybe seeing the comradery, the togetherness, will show him that baseball is definitely about love of the game, but it’s also about the friendships you make along the way.
“Welcome to the 35th Annual Cedar Point Pirate…”
Leon trails off and glances at me.
“Alumni Thanksgiving Day…” I whisper, helping with the rest of it.
“Alumni Thanksgiving Day…”
“Ball Game.”
“Ball Game.” Leon rolls his eyes and waves a hand in the air. “Someone needs to shorten that.”
The group of men circled together around home plate chuckle, stamp their feet, and blow hot air on their hands in the cold weather of the late November morning.
“We’re gonna split into two teams based on the year you were born. If it was an odd year, you’re home. Even year, you’re away.”
Everyone begins shuffling around, moving toward the dugouts of their newly assigned teams, before Leon speaks again, rattling off a few rules. My attention is diverted as I spot movement on my left, and when I turn, I grin at the sight of Justin rounding the fence and heading toward us.
“What’s Justin doing here?” Rush asks, keeping his voice low.
“I invited him.”
Rush raises an eyebrow but returns his attention to Leon.
“And this year, due to an injury, we have Bam helping us out as umpire!” Leon adds, leading everyone in a round of applause. “Alright, let’s play ball!”
As the home team jogs onto the field to warm up, I head toward Justin, who is standing off to the side, a duffle bag slung over his shoulder.
“Glad you could make it.”
He raises his chin. “Figured it wouldn’t be so bad to get in some more playing before wrapping up for the year,” he says. Then he glances around. “Which team am I on?”
“Honestly, it doesn’t really matter. I think the home team has less people, so head on over there.”
He nods once then begins walking to the opposite dugout.
“And Justin?”
