Yeah. I do. I really do. Other than highlights, the only full games I watch these days are our own.
We won’t get a full game in today, maybe only three or four innings before we need to head to the airport for our flight, but I sit back in my seat and let myself enjoy it.
“Have you always been a baseball fan?” I ask Reese.
“Yes. I would beg my parents to bring me to the field and let me spend time with my grandfather. I loved everything about it. The people who worked there. The fans that were so diehard andsosuperstitious. I practically lived at the stadium during the summer, staying up late and watching every home game, and I truly can’t think of a better childhood than the one I had.”
I know there’s a game starting right in front of us, but I keep my eyes on her. I didn’t know that extending our truce would also extend Reese’s honesty with me but I’m glad it does.
She laughs at herself. “I used to invite the players to my birthday parties because I genuinely thought they were my friends. I didn’t pick up on the fact that it was their job to spend every day at the field. That they weren’t just there because they wanted to be, like I was.”
“And did they go?”
“Of course. Probably because my grandfather was the team owner, and they felt as if they had to.”
I think about my team and the way they are toward Max, loving him as if he were one of the guys. Or the way my college players were with Miller while I was raising her, always hyping her up when she brought homemade cookies to share with them.
“I doubt that. Baseball is one big family. I know you don’t see it that way, but it is. I bet they went to your birthday parties because you were one of them.”
She stays silent for a long moment, eyes on the field.
“I know it is,” she finally says. “I know how much community and comradery there is. I grew up in that environment, Emmett. I’m not just some random owner, fresh out of business school with no connection to this team. This team is my family’s legacy. This is my childhood and all my best memories.
“I know you think I’m coming in here and trying to blow everything up,” she continues. “But I promise you, I’m not. I want to better this team because I love it. I want to be able to give other people their best memories too. Whether that be the days they spend at the field as a fan or the years they spend in a Warriors jersey as a player. I know you think I’m heartless, but every decision I’ve made is to preserve the thing I love most in hopes that other people will continue to be able to love it too. In order to do that, I don’t have the luxury to view this as anything but a business right now.”
Words stick in my throat because this is just about the most open I’ve ever heard her.
And I like it.
This version of Reese... this version is dangerous for me.
She swallows hard. “Look, this needs to stay between us, but my grandfather wasn’t paying a whole lot of attention the last few years. He was spending far too much money and now our budget is a mess, and I feel partly at fault for that.”
My brows cinch together. “How is any of that your fault? You weren’t there.”
“Exactly. But I was supposed to be. He wanted to retire years ago and I was ready to take over, but there was one problem.”
Everything we discussed last night comes flooding back.
“You were still married,” I realize.
“My grandfather wouldn’t sign the team over, for good reason, until he was sure that Jeremy would have no legal claim to it.”
“Wow.” I sit back in my chair. “I had no idea. I knew Arthur was ready for retirement, but I assumed he was holding out because he still loved it.”
“He did, but he wasn’t invested the way he used to be. He wanted to be home with my grandmother more, so he made decisions like hiring Scott to run the baseball side of things and spending money just to make others happy.”
There’s something in the way she tacks on that last part that feels directed at me, but that wouldn’t make sense. Arthur never spent extra money on me, unless she’s referring to that extra video coaching position that I’m still not entirely over.
But hearing her speak about the love and responsibility she feels to this team brings a whole new wave of understanding that I didn’t have before. Maybe she really did have to cut that position, and that realization makes me feel like an absolute dick for not being the one to do it.
Reese refocuses on the field, clapping as our first batter makes his way to the plate. “Let’s go, Braden!” she yells, hands cupped around her lips.
I glance in her direction, a little confused. “You sound like you know him.”
She seems just as puzzled when she looks my way. “I do.”
“You’ve met him?”
