STEVE:You’re really picking up what I’m putting down, are ya?”
VIC:I am. I am.
STEVE:The lovely couple got engaged during the off-season two years ago. A tough way to start a marriage, I presume. Colby, who was quite a slugger when she played for Ole Miss, has been the hitting coach here in Arlington for almost three full seasons. And I think she said last time we spoke to her that it’s twelve hundred miles from here to Chicago, which is where Jayden was.
VIC:Only eleven hundred, Steve.
STEVE:Oh, okay. So not that bad, then.
(Laughter)
STEVE:Anyhow,they made long distance work, and thankfully for them?—
VIC:And us!
STEVE:Yes, and us! Jayden is back where he belongs. I just wish Adriel Vargas wasn’t going to miss the rest of the season with a torn labrum. Texas only locked him up for two more years, so it’s possible we missed our shot at having two Vargas boys in the lineup yet again.
VIC:Yes, but he’s still here tonight, playing the part of expectant uncle. I guess it’s a little twist on the typical pregame first pitch.
STEVE:It is. In fact, if you wait with us through the break, when we come back, we’ll find out what gender the next great Vargas hitter is going to be!
VIC:But I’ll tell you what, Steve. It really doesn’t matter. I’ve seen Colby hit tanks out on this field that rival her husband’s!
(Laughter)
STEVE:Isn’t that the truth!
Jayden
“You know, I never thought kissing you out here would turn you into such an exhibitionist,” I say to my six-months-pregnant wife as she places the blue and pink colored baseball in my palm.
“I know. So in a way, this is your fault. You started it,” she says before lifting up on her toes and pressing a kiss to my cheek. “Now, get on that mound and throw me a strike. Oh, and Jayden?”
“Huh?”
“Don’t fuck it up.”
She winks, then heads toward the plate to pick up the pink and blue bat one of the team sponsors had made for us special. My brother holds up his glove, then crouches behind the plate, his left arm in a sling. The difference between Adriel three years ago and my brother now is shocking. And I have to give most of the credit to Colby. She talks to him in a way nobody else can, even her father. She’s really brought out the best in him. Unfortunately, she’s made him such a desirable piece to have on a team that Texas will be priced out when he’s ready to go again.
It’s all right. Good for him.
My mom and her new boyfriend, an anesthesiologist she met when she did a volunteer shift at the children’s hospital last year, are poised with their phones about ten feet behind Colby. Her dad is behind Adriel, partly as backup in case I somehow blowthis and sail the ball over my brother’s head and Colby’s batting range. If it doesn’t explode into a color, I’m pretty sure my wife will pick it up and stuff it down my throat. She really wants this big moment. I want it, too. For her.
We decided that if our baby is a girl, we’re going to name her Meg, and if it’s a boy, Alejandro, after my late uncle. While my father was a real asshole, his brother was an actual hero. He served two tours in the Army and died of lung cancer at the age of forty. He was around for my brother and me more than our dad ever was, so it feels fitting to let his name live on.
“Okay, Jayden. It’s showtime. And remember . . . smile.” Sissy, the PR exec who helped put this thing together for us, waves me toward the mound.
I wave to the crowd while our in-game announcer introduces me, my brother, and finally, “Texas hitting coach, Colby Kessler, the first female serving in this position in the organization’s history.”
Colby turns to wave at the crowd, and she gets the standing ovation she deserves. Sometimes, she’s a bit annoyed at being treated as a novelty, but she helped my brother earn a Silver Slugger award last season, so most of that applause is genuine appreciation from hardcore fans.
“Jayden Vargas, are you ready to throw out this very important first pitch?” the announcer says.
Jesus, could he tone down the pressure?
I hold up a thumb, then nod to my wife before beginning my windup. We’ve been practicing with wiffle balls for days, but this is the first time we’re expecting one to burst open and reveal whether we’re welcoming Alejandro or Meg to our family in three more months.
I toss the ball toward Adriel’s glove, relieved it soars toward him in a straight line. There’s enough heat on it for Colby to make solid contact. There’s no reason it shouldn’t break, butin the milliseconds before it reaches her bat, I anticipate every possible angle that this could go wrong.
