Playing The Hot Corner

Born For This - Paramore

I adjusted my baseball pants on my thigh, a move so familiar it was as normal as a sneeze. I was crouched over close to the base, ready to turn in for the throw from Joe that I knew was coming. Another runner that strayed too far from third was another out for us. I tagged this one before he even knew what was going on – he obviously hadn’t heard of the J duo before. It was the second out, and for the third, I had to snag a hard grounder going down the third base line and whip it almost as hard as I could to get it to first in time. What ended up happening was the runner collided head-on with our first baseman, Kyle, and something happened with Kyle’s right wrist. The umpire called an out and we went in to the dugout, meeting our coach by the entrance.

“This is the state championship. I’m not taking any chances. Parker, I want you at first. Hacker, you’re in at third. I know you pitched the first four innings, but you’re the quickest arm we’ve got that can play the position. Mauer, we’re watching the runners that get on, if any. Let’s get hitting.”

We made our way slowly back into the dugout, and our coach quickly pulled Joe and I aside. “Good work, you two. You know that’s 56 runners you two have gotten out?”

I glanced at Joe, and he was smiling just the tiniest bit. He wasn’t usually that expressive around our coach, but I saw it coming through this time.

“You two are probably the best combo I have. I just want to congratulate you guys.”

“Thanks, Kevin.”

Joe and I went back into the dugout, taking our accustomed places. I was usually in between Charlie and Joe, but Charlie was up getting ready to bat for Kyle.

I grabbed my first baseman’s glove out of my bag before landing heavily on the bench next to Joe. Something had occurred to me, and it made me want the last two innings to never end.

“Joe?”

“Hmm?” he hummed while unclipping his chest protector.

“This may very well be the last game we ever play together.”

He paused in the middle of taking off his shinguards. I knew what he was thinking – he was remembering the nine years of us being dugout companions, yelling at umps about bad calls, our endless throw downs for outs, using the same bat our freshman year on Varsity for good luck and both hitting home runs our first up-to-bat. They were the same things that I thought of when I realized the dreadful fact.

Joe snuck his hand, still red and sore from catching our hard-throwing closer Alex, behind my glove and surreptitiously took my hand.

“You know I love you to death, right, Jess?” It was the only time he had ever called me Jess anywhere near a baseball diamond.

I smiled and started to reply, but didn’t have a chance as Charlie got a hit that had to be at least a double. Joe and I both jumped up cheering, putting off the somber moment until later.

An inning later, we were all out in the field to get the final three outs of the game. Joe had called us in to the mound for a final meeting. I stood next to him, across from Charlie, and it hit me that it may be the last time I see some of these guys. It hit me hard. I took a deep breath, and Joe, almost unnoticeably to anyone else but me, put his arm around my shoulders.

“This is it, guys. We get these three and hold them here, and we’re state champs. I don’t know about the rest of you, but I think that would be ultimately perfect way to end my senior year.”

I couldn’t help but smile then. Joe always knew what to say.

“So we’re going to do what we know how to do best, yeah, Raiders?”

We put our hands in and together cheered “Raiders!” Just before Joe and I went back to our positions, we performed our handshake: hand smack, glove smack, and a jumping shoulder bump.

“Frame it well, Joe,” I whispered.

“Catch anything they throw at you,” he whispered back.

Alex struck the first two batters out. The third decided to pull an inside pitch straight down the third base line, and Charlie had to throw himself at the ball to stop it. His throw to me was a little frenzied, and I had to go down into a complete split to keep my foot on the base and catch the ball before the runner made it.

The ump’s gravelly voice echoed behind me: “OUT!” he yelled, dragging out the vowels.
I simply rolled over onto the ground, laughing, until Joe pulled me up and gave me one of the best hugs of my life. The entire team crowded around me, and for a little while, I lost myself in the moment.

~

“We’re done. No more Cretin-Derham Hall. No more private Catholic school,” I sighed with relief. Our purple gowns shimmered in the sunset as Joe wrapped his arm around me and my arms encircled his torso. It was our perfect, all too common, puzzle-piece embrace that was so comfortable. I cuddled into his chest and felt the life that was barreling towards me melt away.

I heard a few ‘click’ noises behind me and knew that my mom was taking candid pictures. I just sighed and let it happen.

“So I guess you’re leaving soon,” I said quietly. I didn’t expect Joe to hear me over the graduates milling around, but he did.

“Tomorrow afternoon.”

“Thanks for not telling me,” I said, being completely honest. “I would have been dreading it for weeks.”

“I know. That’s why I didn’t.”

“You know I don’t want you to leave.”

“I kind of don’t want to. Well, no I want to go, but I don’t want to leave you behind.”

“Believe me,” I said, staring off at the school that had harbored us for the past four years. “I don’t want to stay behind.”