“Which Fischer?” he asks, looking around. Then he breathes a self-deprecating laugh. “Oh, right, sorry. I’m not used to being the only one in a room.” Everyone laughs.
Maybe he’ll come out of this one okay, after all.
“Fischer—you struck out one of the best hitters in the league today. How are you feeling?”
“Honored,” he says. “It’s wild to be playing with future Hall of Famers.”
“What was going through your head when you got on the mound?”
“Nothing,” he says, laughing. “The only way I’ve made it this far is by being the dumbest guy in the room. Otherwise, I’d be too starstruck to function.”
This earns him another wave of chuckles, including one from me.
“You’re training with your sister’s boyfriend and your identical twin every day,” another reporter says. “Does it feel like you’re in the middle of a family reunion?”
He grins. “I wish. My family’s awesome, but I think Bruce would kill the vibe.” He earns another wave of laughs. Then he rubs his forehead with the back of his hand. “It’s a great clubhouse. Doug and Joe have built a strong culture, and the guys are … they’re awesome. I feel really lucky.”
“What about Jake?” Someone asks from a few rows back. “He’s notoriously difficult to play with. Have you seen any inklings of that so far?”
There it is.
“Not at all,” Lucas says. “He’s been nothing but supportive. A total pro.”
“Do you think that’s the influence of his girlfriend? She’s your player coordinator, right?”
Lucas pauses, and I almost stop breathing. This is a brilliantly phrased series of questions, and it puts Lucas in a tighter spot than anyone could know.
His eyebrows tug down into a V. “Did you guys know I’ve never played on a team without my brother? We played together in college and got drafted together and traded together and now we’re at Spring Training together. Everywhere I’ve gone, I’ve had someone who knows me and someone I can trust completely. It’s like … what’s that pink stuff they put between the walls in houses? Insulation,” he says, snapping his fingers. “I’ve been insulated everywhere I’ve played.” He clasps his hands beneath the table and leans forward. “I’ve never seen Jake be anything but a pro. But if his girlfriend being around is making a difference or not, I could see how it’s possible. If I’d been alone all these years and finally got to be around someone who cared so much about me, it would change everything.”
Crap.
The reporters are tripping over themselves to ask the next question. “So you think it is changing things for Jake?” a Firebirds beat reporter asks.
Lucas shrugs. “I have no way of knowing. He’s been a class act with me.”
“But you work with his girlfriend directly. Do you think she’s a good influence?”
“Sure, good people are always good influences. I don’t have any sense that Jake’s needed it.”
The questions are coming hotter and faster, and they’re coming from everywhere. I should stop him, but I’m so uncomfortable, I don’t know if that’ll tip my hand or not. I look at Gabriela, but she’s talking to another player coordinator, and her stopwatch hasn’t gone off.
“He choked Palermo last year because he thought the guy wasn’t playing hard enough. Are you worried?”
“I wasn’t there and don’t know the whole story, but I’m not worried at all.”
Redirect!I think. Has he forgotten everything I’ve coached him on?
“Why aren’t you worried?” Josh asks. “Is that because he’s changed?”
“I wouldn’t know. I wasn’t here last year, and I’m not in the room when those conversations happen. All I can speak to is what I’ve seen, and what I’ve seen is a guy who shows up ready to work.” He inhales slowly, and I can see the moment he remembers what I’ve taught him. “I’m better suited to talk about other things.”
“But you have to be a little worried?—”
“Again, I’m better suited to talk about other things.”
Someone else raises a hand. “How will you feel if your brother doesn’t get called up and you do?”
“I’ll cheer him on like I know he’ll cheer me.”
