by Adam Hughes
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
Family Time
David pulled into the west parking lot of Bush Stadium in Indianapolis about 20 minutes after one in the afternoon. The game wasn’t scheduled to start until six o’clock, but Dan wanted to be there plenty early to soak in the atmosphere of the championship game. As it turned out, they were SO early there was only one other car in the lot and the stadium was locked up tight.
They walked around the block a few times, pointing out local landmarks to each other, and then ventured down a couple of side streets before returning to their car for a quick snack from the cooler Clara had packed. Finally, a few minutes before three, Dan heard a rumble from a couple of streets away. He hopped out of the car and stood with his hand shielding his eyes, looking to the West.
“Here they come!” he called out, and David and Clara followed their son’s gaze.
There, coming up 16th Street were two yellow school buses, grinding through their gears as they navigated the sleepy Saturday traffic. The city may have been called “Naptown,” but Dan was not feeling the least bit groggy as he waited for the game to get underway.
“Nope,” David said when the buses were a block away. “Those are Evansville buses.”
“How can you read that?” Clara asked.
“Dad has eagle eyes, Mom,” Dan said. “You know that.”
David nodded. “That’s right,” he said. “How else do you think I picked you out from the crowd of girls vying for my affections in high school, dear?”
Clara rolled her eyes and said, “Oh, brother!”
“You two are cute,” Dan said, and he meant it.
Just then, they heard the asphalt pop behind them, and the three Hodges turned to see another two buses pulling into the lot from the East.
“That’s definitely them!” Dan exclaimed.
He took off running across the lot and sprinted right in front of a car turning in off Harding Street. The driver slammed on his breaks and laid on his horn, yelling out to Dan to “watch where you’re going, you stupid kid!”.
Dan didn’t break stride but turned back as he ran, waving to the driver and calling out, “Sorry!”.
David and Clara both flinched when they saw the scene unfold in front of them but smiled to each other once the danger had passed.
“That boy always did love to run,” Clara said to her husband, smiling softly.
“Sure did,” David said. “Let’s get this buggy closed up. Looks like we might get to go inside soon.”
When they caught up to Dan, he was standing between the two South Pickens buses slapping hands with the players as they stepped down onto the pavement. He was also huffing and puffing, the effort of his short run having sapped his already waning energy reserves.
“Dan!” they called out one-by-one, and Dan greeted each player by name.
“Way to go guys! You gonna win today?” he asked when the buses were unloaded.
“Yeah!” the high-schoolers called out in unison.
That’s when Coach Croft ambled out of the lead bus, shaking his head.
“Well,” he said. “If this isn’t a fine howdya do! My guys see some young buck waiting for them and don’t even pay me any mind. Guess I can just head on back home!”
“Coach!” Dan bellowed, and stepped around the mass of players to extend his hand to Croft.
Croft, in turn, took Dan’s hand and pulled him into a big bear hug.
“You’re not getting away that easy, Dan,” Croft said. “Now that you’re part of the coaching staff, it’s big, burly man hugs for you whenever we haven’t seen each other for a while. Sorry ‘bout your luck!”
Dan and the coach laughed, and so did the team. Behind them, David and Clara smiled again, both of them trying not to think about what might happen after the game.
—
After a few more minutes of parking lot tomfoolery and motivational quips, Croft broke up the party and led his team through the players’ entrance into Bush Stadium, instructing the Hodges to meet him at the side gate. While they waited for him to spring them in, Dan, David, and Clara watched the St. Lydia players file into the stadium through the same doors the Eagles had used moments earlier.
“They sure do look big,” Dan said with a gulp.
“Yep, they’re big, alright,” David said. “But big isn’t everything in baseball. Who would have ever thought Hank Aaron would break the home run record, after all? He was just a skinny kid for a good part of his career.”
“You’re right, Dad,” Dan said. “I never really thought of it that way.”
When the Wildcats had passed, Coach Croft re-emerged from the side of the stadium with a security guard in tow. He motioned the Hodges toward him.
“I explained to this nice officer that you’re a VIP family and vital to our team,” Croft said. “He’ll take you in and get you seated.”
“Wow, thanks!” Dan said to Croft and the guard.
The guard just nodded, but Croft said, “No problem. But Dan … don’t get in trouble, because this guy will be watching you like a hawk.”
“Like an eagle,” the guard deadpanned, and the group broke up laughing.
