Chapter 38

We had our first game back Thursday night and for us it was an important one, since it was the last one of the regular season and would determine if we made it into the playoffs. We were on the bubble, and were tied with another team that lost their game the night before. If we lost tonight, it would be a coin toss to see which of us got in, which wasn’t how we wanted to get into the playoffs, so tonight was a must win for us.

The team we were playing was already in the playoffs but they were only one game ahead of us, so it was still a very doable matchup, or at least it seemed that way before the game got underway. We started off pretty rocky. As one of the newest and youngest members of varsity I was near the end of the batting roster, so I had to sit on my hands during our first two innings as they proceeded to knock down each batter we sent up. Marcus had batted fourth and was up at the beginning of the second inning where he missed a pitch so hard I thought he was going to end up spinning around like a top.

Our worst moment was shortly after that during the top of the third inning. They had a man on first and second and one out and their guy hits this screaming grounder to left field and our guy was in perfect position to scope it up and hit the third baseman, and get us our next out. Instead, he reached down to scoop up the ball and it popped straight out of his glove and over his shoulder behind him. For the life of me, I can’t figure out how his glove had to be positioned to make the physics on that work, but it did since he went scrambling after it as it continued to roll away from him. The whole time their third base coach is whirling his arms telling his guy to keep going through third to home and their guy who’d been on first was rounding second.

It took what seemed like forever before our fielder grabbed the ball, turned and got it off to third, but not before they ended up with a run and runners on third and second. Before we managed to close the side out they managed to pick up another run and everyone was acting like we were out of it. The fielder that caused the error practically broke his fist when he hit the back of the dugout, which was stupid since he was one of our better hitters and we couldn’t afford to get anything going.

I’d like to say I did better when I was up in the third inning, but I caught the ball wrong and popped it off to right field where their guy picked it off like it was fielding practice.

Despite the disaster that was the third inning, we managed to stabilize things at that point and held them at two runs as we went into the bottom of the sixth, which didn’t leave us a lot of time to sort things out.

Once their starter was pulled and they switched to their closer, we started to get guys on base, but we kept leaving them stranded there without turning anything into actual runs on the board. When I got up to bat again we had two outs and guys on first and second, which isn’t a great place to be, since it cut down on our options. We didn’t have any more outs so I couldn’t move the runners into better scoring position and I’d need at least a double to get even one run, which wasn’t going to close the point gap.

I took a few breaths and tried to calm myself down, since I think the pressure of knowing state was on the line and how bad things were going was slowly starting to get to everyone, which is why we were playing like crap.

The first ball was low and outside. I was pretty sure it was a ball, but it was a close call the umpire called it a strike. There hadn’t been any drop to the ball and it had looked to hold a constant speed, so I was pretty sure it wasn’t a slider or changeup, which meant his fastball didn’t have a lot on it. I tucked that information away and readied my stance as he took his stance, looked at our guy on first base and went into his windup. As soon as the ball left his glove, I knew it was another fastball, and this one was on track to be right down the plate. It wasn’t a bad pitch, but after seeing the last pitch I had a good feeling for this ball, tracked it in, and trimmed my swing. It was a thing of beauty and just about as good as anything I’d done in the batting cage.

I caught the ball right in the sweet spot just in from the edge of the bat and followed through on my swing. I could feel it connected and the ball leap off my bat in a beautiful arc. I knew it was going over the back fence the moment I made contact, although I still tossed my bat and put my head down, running all out for first. When I finally lifted my head I saw I’d actually closed up most of the way on the guy we’d had on first as the other two jogged their way around. I didn’t actually see the ball go over the fence, but we already had 3 runs up on the board, so I knew it had.

The third base line was filled with my teammates who, cheered and slapped at me as I jogged by, making sure to step firmly on home so I didn’t become one of those urban legends about a player who hit a home run but never stepped on home and got called out.

This was my first home run all year and it couldn’t have come at a better time. I think we’d gotten in our own heads after their started tore into us, because as soon as that ball went over the back fence, the entire game turned around. We shut them down in the top of the seventh and ended the game with two more runs on the board giving us a four to two win and our entry into the state playoffs.

None of the guys went nuts or anything, since most of them had been on the team last year and had already been to state before. I didn’t care, cause I was practically flooding back to the locker room”

Junior varsity wasn’t playing until tomorrow and Harry hadn’t joined the other members of JV that had come out to watch the game, so I didn’t even have him there to ruin my elation.

“Great job guys,” Coach Dean said as we all sat on the benches to listen to the post game speech. “I know that first half of the game was rough, but you battled it out and didn’t let it get to you. When the momentum turned, all of you were ready for it and stepped up. Marcus, good job on that double play in the seventh. It was nicely done. James, that was a great catch to close out the seventh, just like we do in practice. That’s how I want to see it done.”

He continued to go through the guys who played tonight, finding a good moment where they’d done well, pointing it out as one of the things that had helped us win. I’d watched him do this before, so I knew he wasn’t skipping me. He wanted to make sure everyone understood they’re contribution was important and I’d appreciated it when I hadn’t done great in a game before.

“Finally, I think we can all agree Charlie’s our MVP for tonight. That homer turned the game around for us and was a thing of beauty. Remember, don’t let a run of bad luck get into your head. Even when we’re down on the board, we’re always one good play away from turning things around, so don’t give up until the game is called. I’d also like you all to think about how Charlie handled that homer. With a hit like that, I’m pretty sure he knew it was out of the park as soon as he connected, but he didn’t lollygag around home, watching it go. He put his head down and ran all out just like he would if it was a grounder to right field. You can never guess what’s going to happen, so we’ve got to treat every play like it’s going to be close. Great job, Charlie.”

There was a round of cheers and the guys nearest me slapped me on the back. Being a room full of adrenaline high teenagers, that devolved quickly into roughhousing, which Coach left go on for a few minutes before he gave one of his ear-shattering whistles.

“Alright, you all stink, so hit the showers and get out of here. We’ve got district playoffs next, so we hit practice hard tomorrow.”

I showered, grabbed my stuff and headed outside where Hanna and Kat were waiting for me. Most of the team stopped me here or there as I was leaving to tell me good job, so it took a while, not that I minded. A handful of the guys, all of the friends of Harry’s avoided me, but I didn’t care.

I was having the time of my life.

Mr. French had been said he was busy the first half of the week when I’d tried to go by and see him during lunch, but Friday during Choir he’d told me to stop and see him. I’d thought he was just going to see what I’d needed since I’d asked to see him first, or maybe ask about the festival, which is why I was surprised to see Rowan sitting on the edge of his desk when I walked in.

“Hey, I didn’t expect you to be here,” I said, shaking his hand.

“Yeah man. I’d asked Kevin to hold off talking to you about your performance until I could join y’all, but I had a thing earlier this week so couldn’t make it out until now.”

“Ohh, really?” I asked, trying and failing to come up with a reason he’d want to be here to see me about playing in the festival.

“Yeah. I was there when you played, actually, and wanted to give you some thoughts.”

“You were at the festival?”

“Yeah. I signed on to produce House of Grace’s new album and I wanted to hear them raw before they got into the studio. They’re headed to some west coast shows after this and a TV thing, so this was the only chance to hear them without having to get on a plane, which I hate doing.”

“Ohh. I actually bumped into Linda Chapman as we were coming off stage. She was really nice.”

“Yep. She’s one of the good ones. I found an out of the way place to listen, since I sometimes get a bum rush if people recognize me, especially new, unsigned guys. Easier to avoid than have to tell them no.”

I couldn’t help but feel a twinge of guilt over that. This was his second trip down to talk to me, and I hadn’t put in the time like those guys down in Myrtle Beach or any of the guys in my band. Between Mr. French, Willie and Chef I was getting opportunities that absolutely no one else my age would get. Of course, I wasn’t an idiot. I wasn’t going to turn it down, even though it was unfair to others. I just needed to remember that I didn’t have to start from zero.

“We’ve made some changes to the songs you heard before. What did you think?”

“Overall, I like it. Everything is more dynamic than what you were doing before, not just in its individual range, but it’s a lot fuller too. I do think you’re going a little heavy on the keyboard sometimes. Everyone’s going to want a part, but you have to be careful not to let someone push too hard to get a bigger profile.”

“I didn’t think I was doing that. I was trying to keep it from sounding too one dimensional like when I first started working on my own stuff. I do lean on the others because I don’t have a good grasp on how to integrate the other stuff yet, which goes doubly for the keyboard. I think I’m kinda okay with what to do with the base, but I do ask for a lot of input from the other two.”

“That’s natural and it definitely sounds more complete than what I heard before. The thing you have to remember is you are a mixed rock/pop band and this isn’t the eighties anymore. Keys are all well and good, but unless you want to sound like a throwback to late disco and early hair metal, you shouldn’t have the keys carrying the melody. I know that’s easier to do, just transpose the melody over to the keys, maybe play with harmonies a bit, but it’s not doing you any favors. You need to think of using it intermittently, bringing in harmonies and fading, coming in with a counter melody, things like that. Your guy isn’t going to like it, but unless you’re looking for a specific synth sound, he’s going to get the least play.”

“Okay,” I said, trying to think through what it would sound like if I made it like he said, and was struggling to come up with an idea. “I’m still not clear though. I mean, I get that it should be used to accentuate what the melody’s doing instead of just copying it. I get that. But I’m not sure what’s the best way to do that.”

“Kevin, do you have a guitar here?” he asked.

“Yea,” Mr. French said, going and getting an acoustic guitar he had in his office.

When he came out, Rowan nodded his head at me, indicating Mr. French should hand it over to me.