AllFreeNovel
Share Us
Taking a large inhale, I let it out and groan. “Not yet. I just… we have good talks, deep conversations and I get close, but I just can’t force myself to do it. I don’t want to mess things up and I’m afraid if we’re not on the same page, it’ll ruin what we’ve got going. And I can’t let that happen because what we’ve got going is really fucking good.”
“Don’t wait too long,” he warns, obviously speaking from experience.
* * *
It’sthe bottom of the eighth inning. We’re down by two runs and the bases are loaded.
Bo kicked things off with a double. Then Phil hit a line drive down the third baseline. Bo held up at third and Phil made it to second. Stevens, being a pitcher who can rake, got a single.
And now I’m up. There’s nothing quite like walking up to the plate with the bases loaded. Most might feel pressure or nerves, but I feel nothing but calm. I’m seeing the ball better this game than I have all season, so when the pitcher throws a nasty curveball, I wait for it.
The next pitch is a splitter and I have to lean back to keep it from grazing my shoulder.
I could’ve leaned into it and took my base, running Bo into home. But we need more than one run, so I’m holding out for the perfect pitch.
With my eyes on the pitcher, I watch him shake his head a few times before he finally goes into his windup. The next seconds seem to happen in slow motion.
He takes a step back.
Turns his pivot foot.
Lifts his leg.
And delivers the pitch—a fastball straight down the middle.
When my bat makes contact, I already know it’s a good hit.
When the crowd erupts, I know it’s gone.
I can’t really tell you the details of what happens next. I know I run the bases, but other than that, I don’t hear anyone or anything. Each step feels like I’m walking on air.
Over my years in baseball, I’ve hit my fair share of homeruns. I’ve even hit a few grand slams, but this one will be the one I’ll tell my grandkids about.
The second my foot hits home, I allow everything to come rushing back in—the roar of the crowd, the cheers from my teammates, the smell of fall in the air and the warmth of this New Orleans night. As I jog back to the dugout, I can’t help but look over to the press box and find Greer.
Her smile is wide as she brings her hand to her mouth, kissing it and sending it in my direction. I’ll kiss her good and proper after the game, but for now, that’ll do.
After our closer comes in and strikes out three batters in a row, the team rushes the field. Fireworks go off and it feels like Christmas morning and all our birthdays wrapped into one moment.
For the first time in history, the New Orleans Revelers win the pennant and we’re going to the World Series.
“So, where are we celebrating tonight?” Greer asks, leaning into my side. We’re both drenched in champagne. This celebration was even wilder than the night we clinched the division.
“If you’re finished here, I think we should dry off and go home. I just want to take a shower with you, bury myself between those gorgeous legs, and eat grilled cheeses naked in the kitchen.”
She laughs, looking up at me with so much emotion and feeling it makes my chest ache.
“Sounds perfect.”
CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE
GREER
After takingthe playoffs down to the final game, The Revelers found their stride in the World Series, winning their first three games and then going on to win it all in game five.
It still feels a bit surreal, but seeing the swarm of people taking to the streets today, it’s obvious the city of New Orleans has fully embraced the victory.
“The road to the World Series wasn’t an easy one.” I’m forced to raise my voice above the crowd that’s gathered around me. When I compare this time to Mardi Gras, I mean it. The only thing different is all these people are waiting on one float, instead of dozens.
