Left Field Love
: Chapter 35

Days fly by, turning into weeks. That’s been the case every year I’ve been at Clarkson. The first few days back on campus pass by at a normal speed. I blink, and a month is gone.

Time is speeding by especially fast senior year because I’m no longer conflicted between here and Landry. Lennon is here with me, so my focus is on nothing but her and baseball.

I scribble the last line on my exam and close the blue book. There are only five minutes left in class, but I’m the first one finished. Everyone else is still writing furiously, but I don’t need to be. I’m confident I’m handing in A material.

I stand and shove my pen in my backpack, slinging it over one shoulder before I start down the stairs toward the front of the room.

People glance over as I pass. I’m playing better than I ever have. Despite counting for absolutely nothing in terms of our season, the fact my pitches as of late are better than the current Jays pitchers’ have elevated the level of interest in me on campus.

I’ve always been good. I’m heading toward great, at the best possible time.

I hand my exam to the elderly professor teaching this Business Ethics course and head out of the lecture hall. I’ve got to be out on the baseball diamond in fifteen minutes. I hurry outside of the building that houses the Business department and head toward the sports complex.

“Hey, Winters.”

I turn to see Drew walking just behind me, yawning. Since we share a wall, I’m pretty sure I know why he’s so tried today. I seriously considered driving to Lennon’s dorm and trying to fit into her twin bed.

“Hey,” I respond. “How’s it going?”

“Eh, all right.” Another yawn. “You?”

I shrug. “Just left an exam.”

“Ugh. It go all right?”

“Yeah,” I reply. “It did.”

“Tell your face that.”

I huff a laugh. “Yeah, I know. I’m stressed about other stuff.”

“Right. Curse of being talented.”

“What are you talking about?” I glance over at him. “You’re a great player.”

“I’m decent,” Drew replies. “I don’t know about great. I always knew college would be the end of the road for me. Yeah, maybe I’d be a fifth-round pick. But then what? Bounce around the minors for a few years until a younger, less average guy comes along?”

“You don’t know that,” I argue.

“Pretty sure I do. Just like I know it won’t be like that for you.”

“You don’t want to play, but you want me to?”

Everyone expects me to enter the draft, but I don’t have to. I could put my business degree to good use. Go work for my dad, or really piss him off and choose one of his competitors. I would know where I was ending up. I wouldn’t have to deal with the uncertainty of trades or injury or all the other unknown factors in sports.

“Just saying if I had your arm, I’d ride it all the way to the top, man.”

I scoff. “I haven’t even gotten drafted. I think it’s a little soon to be speculating about championships.”

“Dream big, Winters. If you don’t, you won’t get very far.”

I don’t reply as we head into the locker room and change for practice. But Drew’s words keep running through my head on a loop as I change, only stopping to glance at the practice plan before heading out onto the field.

They mowed earlier today, so the scent of freshly cut grass swirls in the crisp fall air as I run a few laps around the diamond and then start my stretching routine.

Unless we’re messing around, Coach normally lets us do our own thing for the first fifteen minutes. I follow my stretching with some band work to get my arm ready to pitch as the rest of the guys filter out onto the field.

We move on to catch play next. I pair up with Anderson, focusing on hitting a different target each throw, while he works on adjusting his landing foot. Position-specific drills follow. I work on pitcher fielding for the hour after that: fielding bunts, covering home, and throwing to base.

The whole team comes back together to run through bunt defense and pop-up priority.

I’m sweating by the time we start batting practice. It feels more like early September than late October. I gulp down water, flipping Elliot off after he squirts his water bottle on me. Any feeling of refreshment is counteracted by the fact I know he rarely remembers to wash it.

I hit ground balls to the fielders in between swings for forty-five minutes, and then practice ends.

“Park?” Jamie asks as we pack up our gear and head for the locker room.

“Hell yeah,” Drew replies.

“Yeah, I’m in,” I say.

We usually go to the swimming hole located twenty minutes away from campus after summer camp sessions, but the weather is warm enough today it doesn’t feel any different.

None of us bother changing. We condense into one car and head for the park. A flock of birds startle out of the trees once we start down the path that leads to the water, laughing and joking loudly.

Despite the exhausting practice we all just went through, we’re all in good moods. That’s the beauty of team sports. It’s a bonding experience like no other. You win together, lose together. Celebrate together, cry together. Spend time and sweat and dream. You see people at their best and their worst.

And their most ridiculous.

Elliot sprints for the swimming hole, tossing his baseball gear behind him like a trail of crumbs. Baseball hat. Cleat. Jersey. Other cleat.

“He better pick this shit up,” Drew grumbles.

“Better idea. Let’s hide it,” Jamie suggests. “He can ride back to campus naked.”

“Are you forgetting we all drove here together?” I ask.

Jamie ignores me, grabbing each piece of Elliot’s clothing we pass, then stuffing the pile behind a log just before we reach the circular pool of clear water that’s our destination.

Garrett gives him a surreptitious high five.

I strip off my sweaty shirt and pants, then dive into the cold water. It’s colder than it was a month ago, washing away the dust and dirt from practice immediately. I float on my back, staring up at the cloudless blue sky.

My ears bob below the surface occasionally, muffling any sound. It’s peaceful. Or it was, until Jamie starts calling my name.

“What?” I call back, giving up on floating and treading water instead.

“Come on, man, we’re getting pizza!”

Everyone else is already out. I swim over to the edge and pull myself onto the shore.

“No one brought towels?” Drew asks.

“Did you?” I counter.

“We’re going to need to stop by the house before pizza,” Jamie decides. “No way am I going out in public like this.”

Garrett makes a face as he pulls his sweaty shirt back on. Reluctantly, the rest of us do the same. Except for Elliot, who’s looking for his clothes.

“No one say anything,” Jamie threatens in a low voice.

Drew snorts as he pulls on his pants.

“Have you guys seen my clothes?” Elliot calls, wandering back toward us. “I swear I left them all on the path. Do birds take that shit for nests? Or deer?”

Garrett looks constipated, he’s trying so hard not to laugh.

“I don’t think there are any deer around here,” Jamie says as we reach him. “You were tossing things off toward the bushes. Just go look around.”

“In the bushes?” Elliot replies, looking dismayed. “Guys, I’m not even wearing boxers. No way am I about to climb around in the bushes. What if there’s poison ivy and it touches my junk?”

“Get over it and hurry up,” Drew says. “Cops hang around here sometimes. You don’t want to get arrested for public indecency.”

“Yeah, you could end up on some sex offender registry,” Garrett chimes in with.

“What the fuck am I supposed to do if I can’t replace them?” Elliot glances around, wildly.

“No clue. But you’re not getting your naked ass in my car,” Drew says.

He walks toward the parking lot, essentially a small clearing. The rest of us follow.

Elliot sighs and turns back toward the swimming hole.

Drew starts wheezing as soon as he disappears. “How has he not realized we’re fucking with him?”

Jamie doubles over laughing as soon as he’s in the car.

The rest of us all climb inside too, waiting for Elliot to emerge from the woods. Hopefully clothed.

“I’m starving,” Garrett finally announces after twenty minutes have passed. “Do we leave and come back for him later?”

“I can’t believe he hasn’t found them,” Jamie says. “They’re barely hidden.”

“Maybe he jumped back in the water,” Drew states. “Seems like something he’d do.”

Elliot suddenly appears, fully dressed and scowling.

“Going to be a long drive back,” Drew says, turning on the car.

We all burst out laughing.