I raise my eyebrow at him.Firecracker?
He shrugs at me in response, as if understanding my unspoken question, and continues to jog backwards onto the field.
I hate that he’s given me a nickname like we’re friends. He doesn’t even know me. But what I hate more is how much I don’t hate it. It warms me inside, and I need to find a way to escape this feeling before it gets worse.
It’sthe bottom of the first inning, so it’s the Suns’ turn to bat. That’s something I learned yesterday. The away team always bats first during the first half of the inning and then the home team bats in the last half. Although, when I called the split of the inningshalves, Jamie gave me one of those ‘bless your heart’ smiles and set me straight with calling them the top and bottom. While I hate to look so clueless, I’d much rather we get these blunders corrected now before I really embarrass myself.
As it was at yesterday’s game, Fletcher is the first to go. He heads out of the dugout and takes up his position as I hear a familiar song. It’s the same one I heard yesterday several times,and I’ve just started piecing together it plays every time it’s his turn.
“The Next Episode” by Dr. Dre.
An R&B classic, really.
But, the clean version because they have to at least try to keep it family friendly in the ballpark.
Can’t exactly be playing “motherfucking” over the stadium’s PA system, so this D-O-double-G has to be “the one and only” today.
I wait until the changeover before leaning toward Jamie. “So, Jamie. Tell me something,” I whisper.
“What’s up, Isa?” He quirks a bushy white brow at me.
“What’s the thing with the music?”
“What music?”
“Between yesterday and today, each player had the same songs play when it was their turn. Is that on purpose or what?” I ask.
“Turns,” he repeats with a snort. “You really don’t know anything about sports, do you? It’s a good thing you’re pretty.” I bristle at the implication. “It’s calledat bat. And the music is indeed a ‘thing,’” he says with air quotes. “A tradition actually. It’s called a walk-up song. Every player has their own. They sometimes swap them out based on their moods, but a snippet of that song will play every time it’s their at bat. But only for home games. It’s usually a song that means something to them in some way. Or it’s to hype them up. You’ll also notice the pitchers have their own as they get settled into the mound.” He glances out the window at the Suns moving into their positions around the field. “Here, listen to Anderson’s.”
“Who?”
He rolls his eyes at me, but smiles, taking some of the sting off the action. “Hunter Anderson. The pitcher. Number 42.” He gestures toward the player walking onto the field below us, andmy eyes find the owner of the shaggy blond hair I remember from the crash course. “He has a walk-up song when he takes the mound, since pitchers don’t typically bat.”
The PA system kicks in with Hunter’s walk-up song as he heads toward the pitcher’s mound. Lo and behold, it’s a song they played in the first inning.
“Really? ‘Bring Em Out’ is his walk-up song? That’s a bit on the nose, isn’t it?”
He laughs and shakes his head. “It really is. He often lands himself on the list of best walk-up songs. His is clearly a song to hype up the team’s defense for this part of the inning. And it tends to work. We’ve got one of the best defenses in the league, especially when Anderson is on the mound.” Jamie starts to rattle off Anderson’s stats, mentioning something called FIP and WHIP and ERA, but honestly none of it make any sense to me so I’ve tuned him out at this point.
FIVE
PORCA MISERIA
ISABELLA
Unlocking my car,I toss my tote bag over the center console into the passenger seat and climb into the driver’s seat. I stick my keys in the ignition but hesitate before starting it. I drop my head back against the headrest and close my eyes, letting out a deep breath. This assignment is going to be the death of me. I know it.
It’s been just over a week, and I’ve already worked eight games.
Eight.
In nine days.
To say I’m counting down until the end of tomorrow’s game would be an understatement. After tomorrow night, I can finally have some time off while the team is away for a week and a half. I’m already daydreaming of the sleep I’ll catch up on.
With one last calming breath, I turn the key to start the car and…
Nothing.
