Playing The Hot Corner

(Coffee’s For Closers) – Fall Out Boy

Prepare all you want. You won’t be ready.
I finished pinning my hair up and my bangs back, then slipped the wig onto my head and covered it with my hat, like I had so many times before. This was, of course, after I had wrapped down my chest and pulled my new Twins practice jersey over my head. Putting a t-shirt or jersey and an Under Armor on after the wig was just asking for it to get completely ruined. My heart was racing as I pulled on my baseball pants so they rode low on my waist, hiding the curves of my hips.

The only problem I couldn’t fix instantly was my figure. I wasn’t super curvy, but I wasn’t built like a stick either. My boobs were nearly C’s, and they sure wouldn’t go unnoticed without me wearing both a sports bra and an Ace wrap wound tightly from the top of my sternum to almost the bottom of my ribs. I had to wear a sleeveless Under Armor over the wrap and a loose-fitting jersey, as well as pants that didn’t hug my legs and hips. Those were extremely hard to find, believe me.

I checked my workout bag one more time, making sure I wasn’t missing anything. Nothing had jumped out since I checked it five minutes before. I tied my Nike cleats up and jumped up and down a few times, glad I had walked around in them at home to break them in.

The moment I stepped out the door of the tiny studio apartment I’d managed to rent for the two months I would be here, the butterflies began in my stomach. I had no idea if I was ready for this – I was jumping back into the world of team baseball with just a few hours of practice a day for 2 ½ months to prepare.

I stopped outside the entrance to the field, taking a few deep breaths. Come on, I thought. These are good guys. They’ll be fine, and so will you. If anything, Joe will be there to defend you.

Maybe.

I snapped out of my thoughts, surprised at myself. That was the first time in my life that I had ever second-guessed Joe.

“The only way to know is to go in and find out,” I muttered to myself.

“ ‘Scuse me?”

I jumped and turned around to see the one and only Justin Morneau, the starting first baseman.

“Standing here isn’t doing any good. It’s a lot more fun in there,” he said with a cute smile.

“Yeah, well, you know…” I trailed off, my voice automatically shifting deeper than normal.

“Nervous, rookie?”

“A little.”

“Don’t be. Are you the one Ron was talking about? The new third baseman?”

“Yeah, that’s me.”

“I’m Justin,” he said, sticking his hand out for me to shake.

“Jesse.”

When Justin heard my name, he just stared laughing.

“What’s so funny?”

“Another J name. You, me, Joe Mauer, Joe Nathan, and Jason Kubel could all be playing at the same time.”

“Oh yeah, that’s right.”

“Let’s go in. The rookie’s got to meet the rest of the guys, right?”

I rolled my eyes. “Rookie. Guess I’m stuck with that one, huh?”

“Well, yeah. An 18-year old starter? Come on. You’re the rookie.”

By the time we got to the field, I had personally met half of the active roster. Michael Cuddyer, Nick Blackburn, Kevin Slowey, Delmon Young, and Carlos Gomez had all greeted me with smiles. Justin had kind of taken me under his wing, showing me around the place where I’d practically be living for the rest of spring training. I kept my eyes open, watching everywhere for Joe. I didn’t see him.

“And I’m assuming you know old Ron, here,” Justin said when we passed Ron as we were making our way to the field.

“Hey, good to see you guys again. How are you settling in, Jesse?”

“Great, Ron, thanks.”

“I’ll be at the dugout in a bit, guys, so you know.”

“His yearly pre-season speech,” Justin told me, leading me on. “Objectives for the season, introducing new starters, et cetera.”

“I see.”

The field was a lot brighter compared to the clubhouse and hallways. It felt so good to walk across the dirt, to hear it crunching under my cleats again, that I wanted to just take off around the bases that second. I wanted to go out and lie down in the freshly mowed grass and bask in the amazingness of the baseball field.

“I hate winter.”

“Good to be back on the field?” Justin asked.

“Very good to be back.”

“Toss your bag anywhere in there,” he said, pointing to the almost empty dugout. “That’s pretty much what we do. There’s only one guy in there, anyways.” Justin had to squint a little to see the identity of the only person in the dugout, but I only had to look for a split second to recognize the figure of the man in the catcher’s gear, drinking from a bottle of purple Gatorade.

“Joseph!” I called, making sure to keep my voice low-pitched and level. It was just Justin that was around, but I had no idea who else could randomly show up.

For a second he looked over at us, a little confused as he crewed the cap onto the Gatorade bottle. Then he saw me and froze, his jaw hanging open a little. He dropped the ball he had clutched in his glove.

“Wait, you know him?”

I didn’t answer Justin. I ran for Joe. It occurred to me that it seemed a little strange for two guys to run to each other and hug, but Justin could live with that until Ron decided to tell the team my secret.

I flung my arms around Joe, burying my face in his neck. I was standing on my tiptoes, like I always had to do when I hugged him like this. I didn’t care about the chest protector between us – all I cared about was the warmth of his skin on mine, the strength and protection of his arms around me.

“Are you seriously here for what I think you are?” he exclaimed, visibly in shock when he pulled back from our hug the slightest bit to look at me.

“To be the new starting third baseman? Yeah, that’s about right.”

His bluish-grey eyes opened wider than they already were. “No shit.”

“None whatsoever.”

“Okay,” Justin said, reaching the dugout. “Now you have to tell me how you know each other.”

“Are you kidding? We’ve played baseball together since we were six. Same team every year. 56 pickoffs as a catcher/3rd baseman team over 4 years on Varsity. We’re deadly to runners,” Joe instantly bragged. I laughed at his excitement.

Justin looked just as surprised as Joe had when I showed up on the ball field.

“Well, then, I guess there’s a lot to expect out of you, rookie,” Justin said, clapping me on the back as more guys started to show up.

“Oh boy. Sounds excellent,” I grumbled.