“Up to bat for the Renegades, center fielder Cooper Bailey.”
“Knock it out of the park.” I hear my dad’s call as I walk toward home plate. I had forgotten he was here, somehow blocking him out of my mind. Earlier at breakfast, he left a sour taste in my mouth, and his words aren’t easily forgotten.
As I step in, I remember my early morning session with Bainbridge and how he helped me, reminding myself that he’s a teammate and my success is his as well.
I take the first pitch. It’s high and outside, and when I look over at the dugout, Bainbridge is leaning over the railing with his head turned in my direction.
The next pitch is low and called a ball.
“Wait for your pitch,” someone yells, probably my dad. If it is, he needs to remember I’m in the majors. I don’t have to be told to wait. I already know.
The third pitch looks good, and I start my swing, only to hold off as the ball sails high and out of my strike zone.
“Fucker got lucky,” the catcher says, trying to throw me off my game.
I dig in and square my hips. “Maybe you can have him send me a meatball instead of this shit.”
“Yeah, rookie.”
My next pitch is
exactly what I want. It’s fast, down the middle, and prime for the taking. I swing, connecting with the ball. It sails toward the right field line, meaning I was behind on my swing. I lean toward the left, willing my ball to stay fair. If it does, it’s a home run. When it hits the stands, I drop my bat and start running toward first base amidst the cheers from my teammates.
“Foul ball,” the ump yells, causing Diamond to come out of the dugout and me to falter in my steps. I turn around and throw my hands up.
“That was on the left side of the line,” I say, pointing in the direction of the ball. There are a few fans also voicing their displeasure with the call.
“Bill, what the hell? That ball is clearly fair,” Diamond says when he reaches the umpire.
He shakes his head. “I saw it go right.”
“That’s fucking bullshit, and you know it.” The words are out of my mouth before I can stop them.
“You’re outta here,” he says, tossing me out of the game. I stand there, shocked at what just happened, while Diamond is up in his face. Coach Phelan and our first base coach, Shawn Smith, step in between Diamond and the ump, separating them.
Diamond grabs my arm and drags me to the dugout, pushing me toward the long hallway that leads to the clubhouse.
Once inside, I throw a few chairs across the room until Diamond appears in the doorway.
“What the fuck was that?”
“Sorry.”
“You’re sorry? Your job is to play the game. That is it. If it’s a foul ball, you get your fucking ass back in the batter’s box and wait for the next pitch. I’ll do the dirty work.”
I nod, knowing he’s right. He slams his hand against the wall and sighs.
“This is your second game, Bailey. Being ejected does not look good and will not bode well.”
“I know.”
He doesn’t say anything else, leaving me with my thoughts. It’s only day two, and I’ve fucked up royally.
Chapter 18
Ainsley
“Cooper Bailey has just been ejected from the game.”