by Alison Mello
"We'll help, coach."
"Thanks, what are your names?"
"I'm DJ, and this is Mason." DJ points to his friend.
"Since DJ and Mason are the only ones kind enough to help out, why don't the rest of you run laps? We're a team, and that means we support each other. It seems the rest of you need to learn what teamwork is all about." Each and every one of them begin to groan while the two boys and I walk over to the shed.
To my surprise, it's the judge standing there with the keys when we approach the shed. "Judge Mackey. I didn't expect to see you here tonight."
"I'm the key holder.” He holds up a ring of keys. “Without me, you wouldn't have equipment." He hands me two large duffel bags and a small bag of balls.
The boys take the bigger bags for me. "Thank you, boys. Take them over to the field. Let's open them up and see what we have to work with."
"Sure, coach." The two boys walk off.
"You know I really think this is going to be a good thing." Judge Mackey pats me on the arm.
"For me or the boys?"
"Both." He smiles and locks up the old, beat-up shed, and I shake my head as he walks away. I'm not sure what he thinks he needs to save me from. It was my first time ever drinking and driving, and now all of a sudden he needs to be in my business, trying to save me from something. "Coach, your boys are waiting," he calls over his shoulder, breaking me from my thoughts. I jog back to the field where the boys are standing around, panting from laps and chugging water. My ankle aches, reminding me of my injury, but I ignore it and begin practice.
"Everyone gather around. I want to see who is here and who is missing." The boys all stand in front of me as I call out names. All but two boys are here. "I’ll be talking with your parents after practice, so please don't take off when we’re done. I’ll be sure to finish a few minutes early so you’re not here late. This is how this is going to work. Practice is every Tuesday evening from six until seven-thirty unless the weather is really bad, then I’ll send an email out to cancel. If you miss three practices, you sit the next game. We are a team. We practice as a team, and we play as a team. Is that clear?"
"Yes, Coach."
"Good, I was told you had an issue with the last coach. I was told he didn't take you seriously. Well, I will, but that means you have to take me seriously as well. Respect works both ways, boys. You have to earn mine as much as I have to earn yours. If you have a schedule conflict or any other issues, then I expect you to tell me." They're all nodding. "Now, who's ready to work?"
These boys need a serious boost. I can tell they've been let down, and now it's my job to bring them back up. “Let's start with some batting practice. DJ, Mason, and Colton, you three get up to bat. The rest of you in the field. Let's see what you boys got."
"Who's pitching? DJ and I were going to be the pitchers this year?" Sam asks.
"I'll pitch for tonight, and then next week I'll see how you two boys do as pitcher." I take the balls and hit the mound while the boys take their positions in the field. This is a pretty big team so there are more boys than positions, but if they're smart, they’ll double up at their positions and figure it out. I pitch to DJ first. He misses but takes his stance and gets ready for the next one. He nails it into centerfield. The two boys out there are fighting over it, so they both drop it. One of the boys is Judge Mackey's grandson, but I choose to ignore it for now and pitch another one. It’s a grounder to second, which is quickly scooped up and thrown back to me. "Nice arm." I praise the kid for his speed. The next pitch is a fly ball out to right. "Nice hit."
"Thanks, Coach," he says.
“Take the field and send someone in,” I tell him. He runs out to second, but before he can tell the kid to come in, Ethan Mackey comes running in from the field.
"You think he has a good bat. Check me out." He picks up a bat and gets to the end of the line.
I pitch five balls to Mason, who hits all five and five to Colton who only hits two. Ethan is up to bat, and he has a cocky grin on his face. What this punk doesn't realize is I was a pitcher in my day, and it's time to teach him a lesson. I throw the first pitch and purposely go high. He laughs, thinking I've screwed up, but it's all good. With a straight face, I throw the next pitch. It's right over the plate, and he swings but misses. Next I throw him a curve ball, again he misses. This is three of his five. Now he's getting mad because he thought he was going to hit all five out of the park. I throw my fastball next, and again he misses. "One more pitch and your back out to the field."
"I got this, just put it over the plate."
I laugh. "They've all been over the plate."
I throw him a perfect pitch, but he thinks a fastball is coming so he swings too soon. He slams the bat into the ground. "Fuck," he screams out. My eyes go wide.
"Ethan, I don't know what your issue is, but you will not speak like that while you're on my team. Take two laps around the field to calm down." I will not tolerate that kind of behavior.
"You did that on purpose." He throws the bat.
"Do you want to make it three?"
"You're screwing with me because I said something to you the other day."
"I'm screwing with you because you're cocky and you think you're a star. Pull it together and you could be a good ball player, but right now, with your attitude, you won't get anywhere. Now get to steppin’," I growl. He takes off down the fence line to take his two laps while I continue pitching to the boys.
The alarm on my phone finally beeps letting me know that practice is almost over, and I need to have the boys bag up the equipment. "Bring it in, boys."
They all come running in from the field. "There are some fine batters on this team. With some practice, the rest of you will get there. Trust me—with some work, I think we can go far in this league."
"Yeah right," Ethan mumbles, but I give him the stink eye to shut him up.
"I would like for each of you to join your parent so I know which kid belongs to which parent." They all take off for the bleachers and take a seat, but there's one boy left standing off to the side and it makes me regret my decision to have them do that because now he stands out.
"Landon, where's your mom?"
He shrugs. "I walk here."
"Okay. You stay with me." He nods and stays by my side. "Good evening. I know this practice was short notice, but, to be honest, so was my notice of coaching this team."
Judge Mackey laughs at my little joke and shakes his head.
"I want to thank you all for getting the kids here on time. I'm sorry I was a bit late, but I promise to not make a habit of that. I was stuck on a job site across town. Going forward, we’ll continue to have the field on Tuesday evenings for a six o'clock practice. If this is an issue for anyone, please let me know. You can either tell me now or email me if you want to discuss it privately. My goal this season is to not only teach these kids how to play ball, but also how to have respect for themselves and the people around them." My eyes shoot straight to Ethan, who instantly looks to the ground.
His grandfather catches it and grabs him by the ear. "You made a fool of yourself, now you look the man in the eye when he addresses you."
"Ow, Grandpa."
"Apologize," his grandfather growls.
I’m sorry, if my grandfather was a judge, I’m not sure I would screw around.
"I'm sorry, coach," he whines.
I nod, and the judge lets go of his ear. "Thank you, Ethan. You can show me how sorry you are with a better mouth and attitude at the next practice."
My eyes scan the stands, looking to see if there appears to be concern from anyone. That's when my eyes meet hers, the beauty from the diner. She's staring back at me, waiting patiently for me to continue. She has beautiful light brown hair and a great smile. "Any questions?" I ask, staring back at her.
When there's no response, I continue on. "Great, we have three more weeks of practice before our first game of the season. See you all Tuesday." I make note that the beauty is DJ's m
om. She climbs down from the bleachers and walks straight toward me.
"Hi. I’d just like to take a second to introduce myself. I'm Stella, DJ's mom."
A smile spreads across my face. "Well, well, my sugar has a son on the team. Thanks, sugar. I'm Trystan. It’s nice to finally formally meet the woman who makes my incredible coffee every morning.”
She laughs. The wonderful sound goes straight to my cock. “First, I’m not your sugar and, second, Misty makes your coffee. I serve it.”
I chuckle. This girl has sass, and I have to say I like it. “That’s a wonderful laugh. I’m sorry I didn’t get to hear it sooner.”
She blushes and looks to the ground for a second before our eyes connect again. "I know who you are."
My brows shoot up. "You do?"
She nods. "Working at the diner, I get the inside scoop, and you have a bit of a reputation around these parts."
I chuckle and shake my head. "Don't listen to the rumors. They’re not always true. This town likes to come up with stories all their own."
She nods. "Is that so?”
“It is. Scouts honor.”
“Well, boy scout. I just wanted to stop by to tell you this—if you ever catch my DJ talking the way that boy did, you need to let me know. He knows better. I won't tolerate that type of behavior." I’m liking this woman more and more by the minute.
"Your boy seems very polite and well-mannered so far, but I’ll be sure to let you know."
Misty shouts out from behind us. "Stella, you wanna grab a pizza?"
"Sure, be right there," she calls over her shoulder. "Thank you. You have a good night."
"You too, sugar." And just like that, she's running off and calling after her son. I stop for a second to admire her sweet little curves before I go grab the bags. That's when I remember Landon is still with me.
"Come on, Landon. I'll take you home."
"Thanks, Coach."
I walk into the diner for my morning cup of coffee, and she is the first thing I see. That beautiful smile lights up my morning like the sun rising on the horizon. Every morning I see her, and every morning I tell myself to ask her out. Yet I don’t, despite the fact she’s all I’ve thought about since practice. “Good morning, sugar.” I nod. “Can I get my usual?”
“Good morning, Trystan.” She hands me my coffee just the way I like it.
I thank her and start toward the door, but then stop. Leaning over the counter I lower my voice and ask her. “Hey, when you gonna let me take you to dinner?” I say with a smile.
Stella chuckles. “When you gonna ask?” she replies with her typical sass.
I shake my head with a chuckle and continue out the door. I can’t ask her in front of all those people. If she rejects me it would not only be embarrassing, but we’ll become the talk of the town.
When I pull up to the work site I find not only my boss, Rick, there but the rest of the crew as well. We're working on a new home at the far end of town which is why I was a few minutes late to practice yesterday. This town may not be big but the speed limits are low, and it still takes time to get from one end to the other.
I jump down from my truck, and as soon as I do the guys are like cats ready to pounce. "How was practice, Coach?" Billy stresses the word coach, and it makes me want to throat punch him.
I got my balls busted all day yesterday because they heard me telling Rick that I had to coach little league as community service for my DUI. "Fuck you, Billy. At least I'm doing something productive with my time outside of work. You keep chilling at Slade's Bar, you're going to be next." He shuts his mouth and walks off grumbling under his breath. He drinks far more than I do and then drives home. Not to mention he's starting to sport a beer belly that's getting bigger every day. I start to follow behind him. "That's right, you walk away and go build that wall you're working on." He looks over his shoulders, narrowing his eyes at me. He knows I mean the mental wall he has built not the physical one he's about to install on this house. I cross my arms and wait for a response that never comes. He drives drunk all the time, and Rick is constantly getting on him for it. He's a lonely man who lost his family in a fire and has never been able to get past it. It happened years ago, and at first, we took it easy on him. It was a devastating loss. Rick, Jack, and I recently had a discussion about his drinking and realized that we needed to stop babying him and give him some tough love instead.
"All right, it's time to get to work," Rick shouts, stepping between us.
"Billy, you and Jack work on putting up the walls on the backside of the house. Trystan and I are going to work on installing these last few windows."
The two guys head inside, and Rick and I walk over to unwrap the last of the windows that were delivered. "How did it really go yesterday?"
I shrug. "It was fine. I felt bad that I was late to practice, but it is what it is. I had a talk with the boys, got them going on some batting practice, and then wrapped up a few minutes early to talk with the parents. I wish I had an assistant coach. I’m going to send out an email asking if anyone would like to help." He nods but says nothing about the fact Billy used to play on my team when we were kids. We carry the window over to where it’s being installed. "We have some work to do." I stop to run into the house so he doesn't push the window all the way through. Holding it in place, he secures it and I insulate it with some caulking.
When I get back outside to grab the next window he says, "How so?" He knows I’m referring to the team, not the house.
"Well, some of them are trying to be show-offs instead of working as a team. Of course, the worst of them is Judge Mackey’s grandson, Ethan.” I shake my head. “The kid swears like a drunken sailor and has one hell of an attitude.”
“What are you going to do about it?”
I shrug. “I asked for volunteers and they all looked at me like I had ten fucking heads. Finally, two boys stepped up, and I made the rest of them run laps around the field while we got equipment, but that was only the beginning." A smile spreads across my face.
"What?"
"I just got a brilliant idea. How do you feel about donating some time to help me get them working together?"
He shrugs. "You know me. I don't do much on the weekend, so why not. What are you thinking?"
"The storage shed at the park is a mess, they need a new one. I'll get the team to do a fundraiser, and we'll make the boys help us build it."
He smiles. "I like it."
We fist bump and then go back to work. We're a small crew, but we work well together. Despite the fact we like to bust each other’s balls, we work hard and are good friends.
It's finally lunchtime, and as usual, the four of us take a seat under a tree in the shade to eat what we've all packed. "Hey, guys, Trystan needs some volunteers to work with the boys on a team building activity that requires actual building. I've already told him I'm in. How about it? You guys interested in volunteering some time?"
They both agree, and Rick fills them in on what we need to build. We spend the remainder of our lunch break discussing fundraising ideas. We've come up with a few, now I just have to get the parents to agree.
We've worked hard all day, and I'm exhausted. I need to go home to make something to eat for dinner and make my lunch for tomorrow, on top of emailing all the parents about the fundraising ideas. The first thing I do when I walk in the door is open my laptop to type up the email. I want to get this out as soon as possible.
Dear Team Parents,
You may have noticed at practice last night our boys are not working as a team as well as I would like. With the help of some friends, we came up with a great team building activity that will not only help them come together, but will also benefit our town. We clearly need a new shed to house our equipment, and I've gotten Gonzalez Construction to donate their time to work with the boys on the building of a new one. This will give us a shed, teach the boys a new skill, and hopefully get them to work as a team. I’ll be reaching out to the town to get the perm
it for the build in the morning.
Part of this team building exercise will include the boys working to raise the money for the shed. That said, I am looking for one or two parents to volunteer to help me with organizing the fundraisers we need to put together. We have come up with two ideas so far. The first is setting up outside the grocery store with change buckets and plainly asking for money. The second is a car wash outside the bank or another parking lot in town. I am open to other ideas as well. Please let me know if you're interested in helping us raise the money to get this done.
Also, I am in need of at least one assistant coach. Two would be better. If anyone is available to help, please let me know. The coaches will need to be at as many practices as possible and at games to help with coaching first and third base.
Thanks,
Coach Trystan
P.S. I will see everyone at practice on Tuesday at six p.m.
Happy with my email, I close the top of my laptop, grab a beer from the fridge, and get to work grilling some chicken with peppers and onions for dinner.
I'm about to sit down to eat when my phone pings. Checking it, I see I have some responses to my email. The first one is from Stella, and it makes me smile. She is willing to help with setting up the fundraisers, and she thinks it's a brilliant idea. The second one is from Ethan's mom. She's a lawyer here in town, and the email states she has no time to help with fundraisers, but will donate $100 to our cause. It's no wonder her son behaves the way he does. She clearly needs to make time for him. I get being a lawyer is tough work, but really he's probably just looking for attention because he doesn't get enough at home.
A few more responses come in as I'm finishing up my dinner. Lori, Josh's mom, as well as Stacey, Ryan's mom, have all agreed to work with Stella on the fundraisers. Feeling good about my progress, I get busy making my lunch for tomorrow so I can work out before I have to shower and head to bed.
I'm about to go to my spare room to work out when my cell phone rings. "Hello?"
