by Harlow James
“We all know how outside factors can influence our performance, guys,” he declares, running his eyes throughout the sea of players. “But we need to keep our distractions to a minimum. This includes women,” he juts his chin towards Brandon as the teams snickers and laughs.
“What? I can’t help it if they all want me, Coach,” he concedes while everyone offers their two-sense and mumbles in agreement.
I stare down at my lap, trying to avoid any unnecessary attention on me.
Coach asked me about what happened during my first game when I almost took that ball to my face, but I chocked it up to nerves and looking into the stands. He was more understanding than I thought he would have been, but he also demanded I learn to block out the external factors from then on out and dial in my game. I feel like I’ve done well with that advice, despite the fact that now I know the name of the girl who distracted me, and I’m curious as all hell to know more about her.
We finish the meeting and suit up to take the field, running throwing and catching drills and taking a few swings at the plate. Practice was light knowing we are playing the Yankees again in the last of our three game sprint at home. It’s a Friday night game too, so it’s sure to be packed.
Once I shower and arrive back at home, I decide to text Danielle to see if she will be at the game. I figure if I know, then I can be better prepared to handle any unnecessary disturbances.
Me: Hey Danielle. It’s Jake. How has your day been?
It’s almost four in the afternoon, so I’m hoping I’m not bothering her. I wait about ten minutes for a response before I set my phone down on the coffee table and walk into the kitchen to start figuring out what I’m going to have for dinner. The kitchen is spotless and my house is eerily quiet.
As I start pulling chicken and vegetables from containers that Maria left for me in the fridge, I hear my phone ping and I race across my condo to fetch it, almost tripping on a rug and face planting on the hardwood floor.
Can you say pathetic?
I’m utterly grateful right now that I don’t have an audience or video camera following me to capture my desperation as I grab my phone.
Danielle: HI! Sorry, I just got off work. Today was good. I’m a little tired, but it was good. How about you?
Me: My day was good. Why so tired? Did someone keep you up past your bedtime last night?
Danielle: Yeah. This creepy guy kept texting me.
I laugh out loud. I love that this girl has a sense of humor.
Me: LOL Sorry about that. You want me to kick his ass?
Danielle: No. The truth is, I kind of want to know more of what he has to say…
I feel a surge of adrenaline pump through my veins, a level of excitement and curiosity that’s unparalleled to anything I’ve felt before. I want to know more about her too.
Me: Well, I do have a question for you. Hence, why I texted you again.
Danielle: Ask away!
Me: Are you going to the game tomorrow night? It’s our last game against the Yankees, and then we’re back on the road again.
Danielle: I go to every home game, Jake.
Me: Really? A diehard Rays’ fan then?
Danielle: Oh yeah! I was raised on baseball. In fact, my grandpa, brother, and I have season tickets every year.
Ah. So that explains why she’s in the same seat every game. And now the young boy and older man fall into place as well.
Me: Nothing sexier than a woman who enjoys baseball.
Danielle: I love the game. And now there’s a player who’s caught my eye, so that doesn’t hurt either.
My dick gets hard with her confession. This girl is doing things to me, things I shouldn’t want this early in my career, but I can’t help my reaction to her. And it’s not just the physical reaction I’m aware of, it’s the effect she’s having on my mind. Knowing she’s watching me play now is either going to push me to do my best, or cause me to screw up again.
Me: Lucky guy.
Danielle: So I guess I’ll see you tomorrow night then?
Me: You can count on it. Look for me.
Danielle: You’re not the hard one to find. I’d be blind if I could miss you.
Me: I could say the same about you.
There’s a break in our conversation as I wait for her reply, so I go back to fixing my dinner.
I hope I didn’t scare her. I want her to know that I think she’s beautiful, but that’s not the only reason I’m pursuing her. I want to know her. I know she loves baseball, which automatically gives her points in my book. But there has to be more to her than that. She’s a complete mystery, wrapped in a delicate package that I want to unwrap eagerly.
Taking a seat on the couch, my plate in hand, I turn on the television and search for something to watch, ultimately settling on ESPN. Even though I know I shouldn’t watch everything that’s being said about me by sportscasters and analysts, I like to keep tabs on the other players in the league too. It doesn’t hurt to know more about the competition.
As I finish up eating, my phone pings again.
Danielle: Sorry. I had to pick up my little brother from practice. I’ll see you tomorrow, Jake. I’ll be looking for you. Good luck!
I smile at the idea that this girl will be watching me and cheering me on. It’s not like I don’t have people who want to see me do well, but they’re family or friends. My girlfriend back in high school would come to my games when she could, but she seemed to be more interested in talking to her friends while we played than actually watching the game. And the few girls I dated in college preferred the idea of dating me more than actually supporting what I did.
Knowing Danielle appreciates baseball and has an invested interest changes the way I feel about having someone in the stands. It’s different than my parents or siblings. And I have to say the idea makes me energized.
The next day the team reports at our usual time to get ready and suit up before the game. As we make our way onto the field, I jog towards third base, preparing myself to survey in the stands in search of Danielle.
And as soon as I look in the direction I know she’ll be in, I’m met with a wide smile that highlights her eyes. Her long blond hair is pulled into a ponytail off her neck, showcasing the delicate curves of her throat and her shoulders. She’s wearing an OC Rays t-shirt that’s snug across her chest and dark blue jeans. She’s toned and pretty petite, from what I can see across the distance. And then I realize I’ve never seen her standing yet, which makes it hard to take in the entirety of her. But I know I’m intrigued by what I’ve been able to see so far.
She offers me a small wave of her fingers, like last time, which chocks me up to thinking that maybe I’ll need her to wave to me like that before all of our games from now on.
You know, baseball players and our superstitions.
I grin back at her, nodding in her direction, before turning to face the field as Eddie Salazar winds up and throws the first pitch.
Chapter 10
Dani
Lochlin is here again tonight, along with Gramps and Conner. Tonight the tips of her hair are red. Eventually, she’s going to run out of colors or her hair is gonna fall off.
“Holy shit! He just smiled at you,” she whispers in my ear after I see Jake seek me out in the stands, just like he said he would.
“Yeah, he told me he would be looking for me.” The smile on my face will not go away, and hasn’t since he texted me the other night.
“What are you two girls whispering about over there?” Gramps shouts as the crowd applauds Salazar after striking out the first batter.
“Nothing, Gramps,” I answer, trying to hide my excitement knowing I’m speaking to Jake Calhoun outside of the game and this stadium.
I feel like I have this little secret that no one else knows about, with the exception of Lochlin of course. It feels daring, enticing, and has absorbed way too much of my attention over the past two days.
I’ve had trouble concentrating in class. I’ve been sluggish at work
from staying up late the past two nights talking to him. And all of my dreams have included him in some way.
Conner is shoving popcorn in his mouth, as usual, before he looks over at me and Lochlin.
“How’s it going, buddy?” Lochlin focuses on him, as she realizes he’s watching her. If I didn’t know any better, I’d say my little brother has a crush on my best friend.
He shrugs. Typical.
“It’s going. I can’t wait for school to be out though. This week was rough. Tests and baseball practice. We ran five miles yesterday.”
Conner has been playing baseball the past few years, following in my grandpa and father’s footsteps. His games tend to be in the morning on the weekends, so it doesn’t interfere with Rays games or school nights.
“Five miles? Why so much running for baseball? The farthest you have to run is like twenty feet. I’d die,” Lochlin declares as the Rays jog off the field to prepare for their turn to bat.
“Conditioning,” Conner says with his mouth full, but ends the conversation there.
As usual, Eddie Salazar heads up first, but strikes out on his last pitch, leaving Jake to follow him.
“Damn, he looks good out there,” I mumble to myself, but Lochlin turns to me with a grin.
“I heard that,” she chuckles as Jake lets the first ball go by. “So do you think he’ll text you again tonight?”
I shrug. “I don’t know. But I sure hope so.”
“When is he going to take you out?” She demands as Jake swings but misses.
“We’ve only been talking for two days, Loch. And he said he wants to see where things go. I’m not counting my chickens before they hatch, okay?”
“I get it. But with his schedule, that doesn’t leave a lot of time for dating. If he’s going to make a move, he needs to do it fast.”
I nod in agreement and then what she said resonates with me.
What would it be like dating a baseball player? They play 162 games in 187 days. That doesn’t leave a lot of downtime for things like dating. And they’re on the road just as much as they are home. What would a relationship with those constraints even look like?
I know I’m getting ahead of myself and where Jake and I are at on the dating spectrum, but I guess these are things I really should contemplate before I get in over my head.
“Well, at least we’re talking for right now. I’ll take what I can get, I guess.”
Unfortunately, Jake strikes out on his first attempt at bat, which makes my stomach churn. His eyes never meet mine while he makes his way back to the dugout, which makes me think maybe I am a distraction to his game.
“Oh, God… what if he thinks now that I’m bad luck or something and doesn’t want me to come to any of his games, Loch?” I ask, while Gramps and Conner run to the snack bar for more popcorn and soda.
“He won’t. Baseball players are superstitious but reasonable. They know they won’t get a hit every time they take the plate. Just relax,” she says while grabbing my arm, giving me a light but comforting squeeze.
The game remains scoreless until the seventh inning, when the Yankees score two runs. The tension in the stadium in palpable as Rays and Yankees fans declare proverbial war, waiting to see who wins the game.
Jake takes the plate again and his jaw is set hard. He’s pissed. I can read it on his face as he perfects his stance and narrows his eyes at the pitcher. He reads the first two pitches as balls, which makes the anticipation build. But the third pitch is fast and hard and Jake connects with the ball, sending it soaring over the fence for a home run.
“Yes!” Gramps, Conner, Lochlin and I, followed by all the Rays fans around us, jump in the air from our seats, shouting and hollering in celebration as Jake grins from ear-to-ear while he rounds the bases.
“Calhoun is a beast!” Conner yells as the commotion settles around us, the four of us carefully situating back in our seats.
As Jake makes his way back to the dugout, his eyes search me out and when we lock our gazes, he smiles at me and nods his head. I give him a bright smile and nod back and tingles travel all over my body.
“What the hell was that?” Gramps asks, as Conner and him both eye me suspiciously.
“Nothing,” I say nervously, fishing around in my purse for anything to distract me.
“No, that wasn’t nothing, Dani. Spill it.”
I look up to see Gramps glaring at me, giving me the same look he did when I was in trouble---which wasn’t that often---so I know he means business.
I exhale loudly. “Fine,” I roll my eyes. “I’ve kind of been talking to Jake Calhoun.”
“What?!” Conner and Gramps both shout before lowering the voices and leaning in closer to me.
“When did this happen?” Gramps's eyes are as wide as saucers.
Lochlin pipes in now, proudly explaining her role in all of this.
“So you gave him her number and he actually called?” Gramps jaw has yet to come up off the floor.
“Well, he texted me technically. But yes, we’re talking.”
Conner is beaming as he realizes how life-altering this is in his twelve-year-old mind. Gramps is shaking his head at me, while a sly grin comes over his face.
“Don’t mess this up, Dani,” he points his finger at my chest, shocking me with his directness.
“Who says I’ll mess it up, Gramps? It’s barely anything right now as it is,” I remind him and Conner both, just as the inning ends.
“This is so cool!” Conner is talking to himself more than any of us, but I’m quick to interfere with his daydreams.
“Hey, bud. I know this is cool, but you can’t tell anyone, okay? Talking to Jake isn’t like me talking to some normal guy. He’s famous and there are many people watching him and wanting to know everything about his life. If word got out about us speaking, it could get really ugly, really fast.”
“You’re sister’s right, kiddo. Keep this between the four of us, okay?” Gramps chimes in as the Rays take the field.
He nods. “I can totally do that,” he says nonchalantly, causing the three of us to chuckle at his attempt to play off his excitement.
The game ends with a loss for the Rays, with the only run being scored by Jake.
We exit the stadium and make our way home, but not before Lochlin insists I call her if Jake texts me again. I assure her I will.
When we get home, it’s almost eleven. Traffic was worse than normal given the crowd and it being a Friday night.
But when I get situated in my bed and begin to drift off to sleep, my phone vibrates on my nightstand.
I reach for it and unlock the screen as my smile transforms on my face.
Jake: It sure was nice seeing your face in the stands again tonight.
I turn over to hold the phone above my face, almost dropping it hard on my nose.
Me: Glad I could be of service. Sorry about the loss, but congrats on the home run.
Jake: It happens. Can’t win them all. But thanks.
Me: Um, but I do have a confession to make.
Jake: OK…..
Me: My grandpa and brother kind of saw us communicate after your home run and they questioned me about it. Is that okay?
Jake: Why wouldn’t that be okay?
Me: I mean, I know how you feel about the attention and dating and stuff. I don’t want you to be afraid that my family will go blabbing to the press that we’re talking. I told them both to keep it under wraps.
Jake: I don’t mind. They’re your family. I tell my family everything. They already know about you.
I smile big, giggling at that information.
Me: Really? And what did they say when you told them you were the creepy guy texting me?
Jake: They told me to be careful, just like everyone else has.
Me: Understandable. But I promise you, Jake, I respect your job. I get the pressure that you’re under. And the last thing I want to do is make your job or life harder.
My heart is pounding while I wait f
or him to reply. I want him to know that it means so much to me that he would even consider texting a fan, let alone a nobody like me. This whole idea is still hard for me to wrap my brain around. This can’t be my life.
Jake: See, I knew you were different. My gut told me so.
Me: My gut is telling me all kinds of things about you too.
Jake: Well, thanks for being there again tonight. Even though I know you would have been anyway. It still felt nice knowing someone was there watching me.
Me: My pleasure. Talk again soon?
Jake: You can count on it. Goodnight, Danielle.
Me: Goodnight, Jake.
Chapter 11
Jake
We’ve been on the road for six days, playing four games in that time, and I haven’t hit a home run at all.
Now I know I shouldn’t hope to hit one out of the park during every game. I’m fully aware of the prowess it takes to knock a ball past the fence in the outfield.
But since I’ve been talking to Danielle, and even from the first moment I saw her, I’ve hit a home run at every game she’s been to, which makes me eager to return home to see if a silly superstition of mine has any merit. I have kept the ticket in my back pocket since that first game though, too. I can’t risk not having it at this point.
We have one more game tonight in Washington before a day of travel to return home, and even on the road, not a day has gone by where I haven’t spoken to Danielle via text. It’s become a habit of mine to text her once I settle into my hotel room each night.
I haven’t completely ignored the guys, appeasing Rocky by joining them for drinks a few nights this week. But most of the time I’m counting down the minutes until I can settle in my bed, pull out my phone, and engage in a conversation with this girl that’s quickly becoming a permanent fixture in my mind.
Me: Did you catch the game this afternoon?
Our game started at three, so it’s a little after eight o'clock right now. I know she won’t be sleeping but it takes a few minutes before I get my reply.
Danielle: Hey! Yes, I did. Gramps had it on in the living room while I was cooking dinner. You had a few great catches. Nice job!
