I’m hearing more and more rumors that Steve Bainbridge is out at the end of the year. Cooper Bailey has been in at Lowery Field meeting with upper management while the Renegades were on the road. It’s also being rumored that Bainbridge may have strayed from his marriage and his wife is giving him an ultimatum to get the hell out of Boston or else. Clearly, divorce is not an option for Bainbridge’s wife. It’s probably the iron clad pre-nup she had to sign before they were married, but nonetheless, a wife scorned is never fun.
Surely if Cooper Bailey comes to Beantown, Ethan Davenport will no longer be Boston’s most eligible bachelor. It’d be nice to see Davenport get a run for his money in that department.
It’ll be interesting to watch Twitter in the next few days to see how many “hook-ups” the Renegades had on their road trip.
One thing is for sure; Ethan Davenport seems to have fallen, at least according to an early morning tweet after the team reportedly arrived in Tampa Bay. Let’s hope he didn’t hit his head to hard.
The BoRe Blogger
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The first thing I do after my shower is text Daisy to see if she’d like to meet for lunch. I’m still in the dark about a lot of personal things when it comes to her and it didn’t escape my notice that each time we spoke while I was away, it was about my game. She would rarely answer questions, except for the basics like favorite food and color. I get why she keeps everything to herself. I’m a wildcard where she’s concerned. She’s read the rumors, and while some are true, others have been made up purely to get traffic to a certain website. Nonetheless, I’d be hesitant too. Most people only dream of meeting celebrities, sports figures, and the like, but to have one calling you at odd hours just to talk, has to be pretty freaking surreal.
She answers when I call at one a.m. after being in the bar with the guys. She doesn’t ask what I’ve been doing, or if I’ve been with anyone even though I want her to. I want to be able to tell her that she has been on my mind since that first morning in Tampa and that I can’t wait to see her again. I hold back, though, because I don’t want to scare her away. It’s important for me to pursue her the right way and not like the sex-crazed twenty-two-year old that I am.
For the first time in a long time, I want this girl to like me, and not the one that makes a regular appearance in the sports pages of the tabloids. Rarely do I find a woman who isn’t related to me that can talk shop and understand what I’m saying, although, that could come back to bite me in the ass if I keep playing like shit. I have no doubt Daisy will tell me where I fucked up and what I need to do to get better.
Daisy texts back saying she wants to meet at T. Anthony’s Pizzeria. Between the pizza joint and the place we had breakfast, I can pretty much guess that we’re meeting in between her classes, even though she won’t tell me what her schedule is. I’m going to have to find a way to get it out of her because I’m hoping there will be a day where I want to surprise her. I can see myself showing up on campus and leaning against my car as I wait for her to come out of her dorm or class. I’m getting ahead of myself here, having these thoughts. I don’t even know if she likes me or just feels sorry for me right now.
The BoRe Blogger was quiet while we were on our road trip. The losses diminished most of our spirits and no one wanted to do anything. I didn’t play as well as I had been which is bringing my batting average down. My father doesn’t like that and has expressed his displeasure with my strikeouts after one of the games. Even though I’m playing at the highest level possible, you’re never too old to take feedback from your first coach, especially when he’s your dad.
There’s a light drizzle falling as I drive over to T. Anthony’s. I hate thinking Daisy is out walking in this. I shake my head trying to clear my thoughts. My first thought about rain shouldn’t be about Daisy, but about whether we’re going to play tonight. We have three games until we get a day off. And that day off just so happens to be Daisy’s birthday. I’m hoping that I’ll be able to see her, but I’m assuming her family will want to take up all of her time.
I park across the street from the restaurant and jaywalk through traffic. Definitely not the brightest decision I’ve made today. I half jog, half speed walk to get out of the light rain and as soon as I reach for the door, Daisy is there, pushing it open for me.
“Hi.” You would think that I’m out of breath from zigzagging my way over here, but I’m simply out of breath from looking at her. Today, there’s no BoRe fan staring back at me, but a sexy co-ed who I want to get to know better. Her blonde hair is flowing in long curls that I want to twist around my fingers or pull on them to see if they bounce back. She’s wearing a light coating of make-up, nothing too heavy, but enough to make her eyes stand out even more. She’s wearing a black sweater and jeans with boots, and as much as she looks like every other college girl in town, her sheer beauty makes her stand out. When she smiles, I am done for. If I weren’t holding the door, I’d be on my knees in front of her.
“Hi,” she says back sending my nerves into a tizzy. One freaking word and I’m a borderline pansy boy. At least, that’s what Kidd would say. I need to rein it in because if I’m not careful I could be making a fool out of myself where she’s concerned.
“Hi,” I say, stupidly and end up blushing, which, in turn, causes her to laugh. I give in to temptation and pick up one of her curls and pull it between my thumb and finger before letting it go. It bounces back into place like a spring. She laughs and all I can think about is giving her a hug. It’ll have to wait until after lunch.
“I already got us a table.” She motions behind her, the grin never leaving her face. Maybe we needed that hiccup to get past the awkward stage to where we are now.
I take her hand in mine and let her lead the way. As we walk down the aisle, my name is mentioned in loud whispers. I nod and smile at each person who’s looking, hoping that they give Daisy and me some time alone before they start bombarding me with autograph and photo requests.
I sit down across from her and place my hands on the table. “I have questions.” She blushes, but nods.
“I figured. Go ahead, but I’m warning you now that I reserve the right to not answer.” Her hands are folded on the table like mine. I use this to my advantage and move my arms a bit closer toward hers. My index finger lightly strokes her knuckles and when she doesn’t pull away, I take it as a good sign.
“Are you in between classes, or skipping again?” I cock my eyebrow at her.
She smirks, beating me at my own game. “What if I were skipping?”
“Well, I’d feel bad. I know my schedule isn’t that flexible, but I don’t want you skipping to spend time with me…” I trail off, realizing that didn’t come out as planned, so I try again. “What I mean is that your education is important.”
“Well, thanks for that, Professor Davenport! No, I’m not skipping.” Her lips curl into a small grin before she continues. “Is it okay if I ask questions too?”
“Of course,” I tell her.
“Okay, do you regret tweeting out your address?”
I hang my head in shame and nod. When I look up, she’s laughing at me. I don’t blame her. I’d laugh at my stupid ass too if I were her. “Worst mistake ever.”
“Why’d you do it?”
“I was new in town and wanted to meet my neighbors so I thought I’d have a little get together at my place, but no one showed up, so I sent out the tweet. I deleted it a few seconds later, but the damage was already done.”
“Do you have random people showing up at your house?”