“Whatever is going on, you’re not going to lose Reese over it,” Kai argues. “There’s no way.”
“I don’t know that for certain, and it’s more complicated than that anyway. It’s not just a matter of us staying together. Which, yeah, that is a question on my mind. It’s also about doing what’s best for her, even if that means I need to sacrifice some things. That’s worth it to me. I can’t just sit back and watch her lose everything she’s worked for. I wouldn’t want her to want that version of me. Someone who doesn’t fight for their people.”
They both lose their arguments, understanding beginning to settle in.
“You two know better than anyone that you take care of your family first, and this is me taking care of mine.”
“I get it,” Isaiah finally agrees. “I would do the same thing for Kennedy. Hell, Itriedto do the same thing for Kennedy. I tried to leave my job so she could have hers. And you supported me in that decision. I don’t like this, but I understand your reasoning.”
I look to Kai, but he’s got his arms crossed at his chest, not budging on his anger. “There’s got to be another option.”
“Yeah, if we had more time, we’d probably have a different solution here. But Reese is being told to step down from baseball operations tonight. Right after the game. So, we’re out of time.”
His jaw tics in frustration. “This is bullshit.”
“Couldn’t agree more.”
“I’m not coaching under someone else.”
“Shut the fuck up. Yes, you are.” I exhale a laugh, and it feels nice. “Look, I’ve made peace with this decision. I made peace with this decision months ago, in fact. It’s just a job. I’ll get another one. So, let’s not be so dramatic about this, okay? I’ll probably be at your house for dinner in like two days.”
“Fine. This is stupid though. Anyone who knows you two or has seen you together would know it’s genuine. The fact that anyone could spin this differently is bullshit. But Reese is under more scrutiny than anyone else in the league, so I guess I get it.”
I smack him on the shoulder. “It’ll be all right.”
“Fuck this.” He uncrosses his arms to give me a hug. “Love you, Monty.”
Isaiah does the same. “So do I.”
“Love you both too, but let’s go. We have a game to win. No way am I going out with an L.”
I may have told the Rhodes boys not to be dramatic about this decision, butI’mbeing dramatic as hell about it.
I try to hold on to every moment of my pregame ritual, knowing it’s my last time doing it.
Filling out the lineup card for the final time.
Meeting with our bench coach, base coaches, and pitching coach to go over tonight’s strategy.
Doing pregame media interviews.
I soak it all in, trying to hold on to it for a day I know I’ll be missing it a little extra.
I try not to dwell on the fact that this place has become my second home or that this team and staff are my second family.
As I said, I’m being dramatic.
But nothing is as dramatic as the way a rock lodges in the back of my throat when it’s time for my pregame speech to my players.
In the clubhouse, they all sit in their respective locker stalls as I go over the strategies we have in place for tonight. They all listen intently as I discuss the opposing team’s batting lineup and our own.
We go over a couple more housekeeping items, and that’s usually where I end these meetings, but before I call it done, I add one more thing.
“And um...” I clear my throat, tapping my game notepad against my palm as I attempt to get my shit together. “I don’t say this often enough, but I truly love each and every one of you guys. Getting to coach you has been one of the best things I’ve done with my life.”
My attention ticks to Isaiah but he can’t look at me, eyes locked on the carpet, head tilted low.
Cody and Travis keep glancing over at each other, silently asking what the hell I’m on about.
