Did Reese Remington make her first colossal misstep and take her team out of the playoff run before we’ve even hit the mid-year all-star break? Maybe.
Some of those questions could finally be answered tonight. Some of the chatter could be quieted if Milo comes out and has a strong first game. If he could just shut them up for me, that’d be great.
I think about that kid I found a couple of years back playing baseball for his local community college in New Mexico and could not feel worse that this is his introduction to the league. No one should have this kind of pressure to have such a solid showing in their first game in the majors, but unfortunately that’s just the situation we’re in right now.
The press interviews have taken it out of me this week. I’m usually on top of my game, ready with quick remarks to shut any bullshit questions down, but now I’m off, stuttering through my responses and finding the need to explain myself and my decision to move on from Harrison Kaiser.
It’s what has me hiding in a visitors’ office and watching the third game of this series from the television on the wall instead of finding a seat with a view.
Nervous energy rattles through me as Milo makes his way to the plate for the first time in the top of the second inning. I can see his tension through the screen too. He’s hesitant in the way he digs his cleats into the dirt, and there’s no fluidity in the way he lifts his bat into position.
He’s stiff and locked up.
It only takes three pitches for him to strike out. He doesn’t even get a single swing in.
In the bottom of the fourth, a pop ball heads in his direction in the outfield. It’s an easy catch. A given out. The sun is in his eyes when he looks up for the ball and when it drops, it’s not in his glove. It’s two feet away on the grass by his cleats.
He strikes out again during his next two at-bats, and when he comes up to his fourth and most likely final in the top of the ninth, I’m staring at the screen with rapt attention. Praying for a miracle at this point because currently, with the way he’s playing, we’re going to get eaten alive in the press after this game.
He can do this. Hehasto do this. We’re down one run, top of the ninth. We’ve got a player on third and one on first with two outs. All he has to do is get on base. Bring home the player at third. Get us a tied game and push us into the bottom of the ninth.
He’s no more confident as he steps up to the plate than he was the first time he did it tonight. In fact, I would say the added pressure of this moment has his shoulders slumping even more. It’s given him less power in his stance.
The first pitch is a slider, but Milo swings, giving me a bit of hope when he gets a piece of it. It’s a foul ball and his first strike, but at least he had the timing to slice part of it. And at least he had the guts to swing.
His second foul ball earns him his second strike, but again, at least he’s getting a piece of it.
The energy in the building grows, eagerly watching the new kid fight off Miami’s seasoned pitcher. If he could just get on base. Give our fans a smidge of hope.
He slices another foul ball, keeping the count to 0-2.
On the fourth pitch, he fully connects, and his swing is solid and strong, sending the ball deep into right field. I’m out of myseat and nearing the television screen praying for it to stay left, to stay in fair play.
It doesn’t. It curves right for his fourth foul ball during this at-bat.
Even from the office I can hear the sigh of relief from the Miami fans outside. If he had kept that in play, it would’ve been a three-run homer, putting us up by two in the top of the ninth.
Okay. He can do this.
The power behind that last hit gives me a little hope. Standing at the screen, I rest my palms on my knees and watch him take his position for the fifth pitch.
“C’mon, Milo,” I mutter to the screen. “Just bring him home. Get on base.”
The pitcher winds up and releases a hell of a fastball right down the center of the plate.
It zooms right past him. He doesn’t even get a swing on it.
Milo strikes out looking, ending the game.
Head dropping between my shoulders, I instantly begin rehearsing all the things I need to say in the postgame press conference.
But the one statement that keeps swirling around in my mind is,everyone else was right. I think I made the wrong decision.
27
Emmett
I should be asleep. Our current game schedule is way too brutal for me to be missing out on sleep, yet here I am, tossing and turning in my hotel bed.
