"Apparently she's finishing up her classes at State this summer and has been living in his house with him."
My dear and sometimes daft friend doesn't fully understand what I'm getting at. "Cool," is all he says.
"Don't you get it? Coach's hot daughter will probably be at the dinner tonight! The one we're on the way to."
Enzo gets it and just shakes his head. "You're out of your mind," he tells me. "If you think Coach Steele won't strangle even his star pitcher, you got another thing coming." We both share a laugh.
"But man, word is that she's really, really hot," I tell him.
"You're out of control," he says while still shaking his head.
The mood having been lifted, I turn the truck onto the cul-de-sac where Coach's house is, parking in his driveway as I feel the star pitcher has every right to do.
*****
The entire room turns to look at us when we walk in. All conversations stop upon my arrival in the house and there's an eerie silence for a few seconds before a round of applause starts. Hands are either clapping or patting me on the back and there are a few 'good job's', 'you did it', thrown my way. I'm soon fully embraced by my pitching coach Mac.
"Beau Tillman, I knew from the second I saw you that you were something special. You completely dominated those guys today! Absolutely well done," he compliments me. "You ready for the championship? That title is within our reach."
Before I can answer him, each member of the coaching squad comes over to shake my hand and thank me for a job well done. The only one who doesn't come over is the head coach, Coach Steele, the man whose house I'm in. The man who knows my thoughts have been elsewhere. He's otherwise occupied but it stings to think he may be avoiding me. I'm not too proud and start on my way over to him but just before I reach him, we make eye contact and he turns to the room.
"Attention everybody," he announces a few times until everybody settles down. "Thank you all for coming to my home. It's been an honor to coach each and everyone of you this season." Light applause, nowhere near the reception I got. "We've got a big series coming up, the championship series and Tech is a formidable opponent. We're going to have to be our absolute best, all hands on deck. I'm asking each of you to pledge to give complete focus on the team and a willingness to go fight this fight with your brothers here in this room."
I can feel eyes burning into all sides of me as he speaks, as if his words are intended only for me.
"If we all play together, like a team that's as good as we can be, well then I'm certain that we'll bring the championship trophy to State!" When Coach finishes the room erupts in applause again. A wild release of energy fo llows and in the hecticness, I lose Coach in the frenzy. More arms find their way into embraces on my body and I have more people in my ear as Coach slips away.
When we're sat down for dinner, I'm seated next to Enzo and our outfielder Hunter, our top hitter. This is the elite section of the table and I should feel honored. Instead I'm focused on the fact that Coach Steele is sitting way at the other end. There's another long table with trays of food for us to serve ourselves from and when I see Coach running into the kitchen to go get another tray, I rush in there to ambush him. I'm able to slip past the door as it swings back and forth and Coach never even hears me in there as he peels foil off of a tray.
"Jesus, Tillman," he says upon turning around and seeing me standing there. When he tries to walk past me and back into the dining room, I block his path.
"Good game, huh?" I ask, trying to draw him out.
"You pitched a hell of a game Tillman. We're lucky to have you," he says, trying to leave and I block him again.
"We cool?" I ask and his shoulders lower and face softens.
"Beau," he tells me, "with you, this team has a real shot at winning the championship.
My dear and sometimes daft friend doesn't fully understand what I'm getting at. "Cool," is all he says.
"Don't you get it? Coach's hot daughter will probably be at the dinner tonight! The one we're on the way to."
Enzo gets it and just shakes his head. "You're out of your mind," he tells me. "If you think Coach Steele won't strangle even his star pitcher, you got another thing coming." We both share a laugh.
"But man, word is that she's really, really hot," I tell him.
"You're out of control," he says while still shaking his head.
The mood having been lifted, I turn the truck onto the cul-de-sac where Coach's house is, parking in his driveway as I feel the star pitcher has every right to do.
*****
The entire room turns to look at us when we walk in. All conversations stop upon my arrival in the house and there's an eerie silence for a few seconds before a round of applause starts. Hands are either clapping or patting me on the back and there are a few 'good job's', 'you did it', thrown my way. I'm soon fully embraced by my pitching coach Mac.
"Beau Tillman, I knew from the second I saw you that you were something special. You completely dominated those guys today! Absolutely well done," he compliments me. "You ready for the championship? That title is within our reach."
Before I can answer him, each member of the coaching squad comes over to shake my hand and thank me for a job well done. The only one who doesn't come over is the head coach, Coach Steele, the man whose house I'm in. The man who knows my thoughts have been elsewhere. He's otherwise occupied but it stings to think he may be avoiding me. I'm not too proud and start on my way over to him but just before I reach him, we make eye contact and he turns to the room.
"Attention everybody," he announces a few times until everybody settles down. "Thank you all for coming to my home. It's been an honor to coach each and everyone of you this season." Light applause, nowhere near the reception I got. "We've got a big series coming up, the championship series and Tech is a formidable opponent. We're going to have to be our absolute best, all hands on deck. I'm asking each of you to pledge to give complete focus on the team and a willingness to go fight this fight with your brothers here in this room."
I can feel eyes burning into all sides of me as he speaks, as if his words are intended only for me.
"If we all play together, like a team that's as good as we can be, well then I'm certain that we'll bring the championship trophy to State!" When Coach finishes the room erupts in applause again. A wild release of energy fo llows and in the hecticness, I lose Coach in the frenzy. More arms find their way into embraces on my body and I have more people in my ear as Coach slips away.
When we're sat down for dinner, I'm seated next to Enzo and our outfielder Hunter, our top hitter. This is the elite section of the table and I should feel honored. Instead I'm focused on the fact that Coach Steele is sitting way at the other end. There's another long table with trays of food for us to serve ourselves from and when I see Coach running into the kitchen to go get another tray, I rush in there to ambush him. I'm able to slip past the door as it swings back and forth and Coach never even hears me in there as he peels foil off of a tray.
"Jesus, Tillman," he says upon turning around and seeing me standing there. When he tries to walk past me and back into the dining room, I block his path.
"Good game, huh?" I ask, trying to draw him out.
"You pitched a hell of a game Tillman. We're lucky to have you," he says, trying to leave and I block him again.
"We cool?" I ask and his shoulders lower and face softens.
"Beau," he tells me, "with you, this team has a real shot at winning the championship.
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