Chapter 13 Hollis
Hollis
I don’t think I’ll ever get over how talented these guys are.
They’re easily just as skilled as a lot of the players in the Major Leagues, but what they’re doing here goes beyond regular baseball.
The perfect example is Easten, catching the ball from centerfield while performing a backflip. A fucking backflip! Who even does that?
The crowd absolutely loses it, and so do I. I may be working and this may be my job, but I’m screaming just as loud, jumping and cheering with everyone else in this packed stadium.
Yes, part of my job is watching the game, but it’s also catching all the behind-the-scenes fun on the sidelines while the cameramen capture the action on the field. And I’d be a liar if I said I wasn’t keeping an extra-close eye on Fletcher tonight.
Whether he’s up to bat, or heading out onto the field, my eyes are glued to him. Plus, there’s no denying how good he looks in those tight, red baseball pants. I’m only human after all. And come on, after how much he’s checked me out, it’s only fair I get to do the same.
I’m also fairly certain he’s been going out of his way to show off a little extra tonight.
Case in point: Theo, from the Rowdy Rattlers, hitting a ground ball straight toward Fletch.
Instead of scooping it up and making a normal throw to Mateo at second, he does a trick play, tossing it from under his leg to second before Mateo spins and fires it to Jaxon at first for a double play.
I cheer again as the crowd roars in excitement.
Working for the league as a whole, I try to stay impartial and root for both teams equally. But at this moment, it’s hard not to get swept away, especially after seeing those trick plays. If the Rattlers want to secure their first win, they’re really going to need to step it up.
“You catch that one?” Fletcher asks, jogging straight for me as he and the Honky Tonks exit the field to get ready for their turn at bat.
“I did. Very impressive,” I compliment as pure boyish pride radiates off him. “But what I really can’t wait to see is what I have planned for you. You know, after my own big win last night.”
At every practice, the teams not only work on their baseball skills, but also on both the big and small choreographed dance numbers.
There are, of course, the big ones involving one or both teams, but sometimes they’re for only a couple of players who get to have a bigger-than-normal walk-up song moment.
It’s all planned in advance, and while I know I put a slight wrench in the plans for those who work behind the scenes, there’s no way me changing Fletcher’s walk-up song isn’t going to be a huge hit. Not that they put up a huge stink about it.
It could be the fact that I’m Jared Clemmin’s daughter and they chose not to fight it, but even they all seemed to agree that this would make for some quality entertainment.
“Oh, don’t worry. I’m ready,” he assures me, and I believe him. He’s always up for a challenge, and I’m fairly certain it won’t matter what I throw at him—it’s impossible to truly embarrass the guy. The crazier something is, the more he leans into it.
Sending me off with a nod, he heads up and into the bleachers. With Noah up to bat first, Fletcher is next.
Needing my win to mean something, it’s been worked out that, in order for me to maximize this “punishment,” we’re going to make his walk-up more interactive as he starts up in the bleachers with the fans.
Noah walks toward home plate with swagger.
This guy might be a little shy off the field, but you’d never guess it from the way he’s strutting now as “Hillybilly Deluxe” by Brooks and Dunn blare through the speakers.
He’s even got on a pair of sunglasses, and as the camera zooms in, he tosses them to someone just out of view at the same time they pass him the bat. The crowd unsurprisingly eats it up.
The Rowdy Rattlers’ pitcher winds up and throws the first pitch.
Strike one!
“It’s fine, Noah! You got this,” I yell, joining the chorus of encouragement from his team in the dugout and the fans in the stands.
The next pitch comes in fast, but the bat connects as the ball sails out toward right-center in the outfield.
The center and right fielders do their best to get there in time, but it falls perfectly between them as Noah takes off at a sprint.
The crowd goes wild as the center fielder snags the ball and hurls it toward first, but Noah arrives first and gets called safe.
Everyone is still celebrating the small victory for the Honky Tonks, but I’m busy rubbing my hands together like a cartoon super villain.
The second I came up with this idea while in bed last night, I knew it was the winner.
On top of that, I know what works here and what doesn’t, and without a doubt, this will bring in huge numbers for our social media accounts.
The song is an absolute classic, which is why "Save a Horse, Ride a Cowboy" by Big & Rich felt like the perfect walk-up song for Fletcher. Not only is it a crowd favorite among us Texans, but Fletch will know how to spice it up and make it his own.
As the opening rift blares across the stadium speakers, people start scanning the field, waiting for him to appear, but for obvious reasons, they don’t find him.
Soon, everyone is glancing toward the jumbo screen, where Fletch finally appears.
He’s of course, in his usual red-and-brown Honky Tonk uniform, but he’s also got on a cowboy hat that’s tipped low over his eyes.
The fans' reaction is instant. So many cheers, along with laughter, and I’m not surprised to hear a few wolf-whistles as well.
As predicted, Fletcher is doing the damn thing, totally getting into the spirit of the song as he dances and lip-syncs his way down the cement steps, the camera capturing every moment as it leads the way.
Maybe he thinks that’s all I have planned, but one of the Honky Tonk staff steps in, handing him a toy horse on a stick.
Without missing a beat, he holds it into the air, gathering more applause, before swinging his leg over it and riding it down the aisle.
With the cockiness radiating off him, you’d think this man was riding a real bunking bronco as he high-fives the fans, but nope, it’s a $9.
99 toy from the kid’s section at Walmart.
Yet, somehow, this man has figured out how to make riding a toy horse look cool.
As he makes his way back onto the field, he’s supposed to be heading toward home plate, but instead, he switches directions and comes straight toward me down the third-base line. The cameraman is caught off guard, but pivots quickly enough.
Me? Not so much as I enter panic mode. I try to step out of the way, but Hudson seems to have other plans as he appears out of nowhere and shoves me forward.
This motherfucker has somehow made me part of the show, and now we’re both onscreen.
Before I can recover, the lyrics hit the part about girls being pretty, and Fletcher reaches for my hand.
What I should do is pull away and make him look like an idiot, but I’m smart enough to know how that’d look on camera.
So, being the professional I am, I force a smile and slide my palm into his.
He spins me around, earning even more cheers from the crowd.
He’s got the most frustrating smirk on his face as he takes off his cowboy hat and settles it on my head.
Thankfully, my debut comes to a much-needed end, as he struts back toward home plate where he tosses the waiting staff his toy horse and trades it for a bat and helmet.
As usual, he’s confident as ever he steps into the batters box and adjusts his grip on the bat.
My eyes narrow as the pitcher winds up and fires the first pitch.
The bitter part of me hopes for a swing and a miss, but of course not.
Fletcher hits a clean single down the third-base line, making it to first as Noah slides safely onto second.
This is for the best. I know it is, but I’m still annoyed as I cross my arms. Sure, maybe I made the first move last night when I made it seem like I knew nothing about pool, but still. I won fair and square, and for him to turn this around and punish me in return is infuriating.
My parents would’ve loved for me to follow in their footsteps and enjoy the spotlight.
However, that’s just never been me. I despise being the center of attention, and it’s moments like these that cause me to break out into hives.
There’s a reason I choose to be behind the camera rather than in front of it.
Sure, I’ll ask questions and conduct interviews, but my voice being out there is one thing. My face being seen by hundreds and thousands is another. Hard fucking pass.
Ugh, and to make things even more annoying, this was the post I was most looking forward to adding to our socials tonight. Obviously I still have to, but it pisses me off that it now feels tainted.
He may be a damn good baseball player and an even better showman and performer, but he’s currently my least favorite human right now.
And just when I’d started to think he wasn’t so bad, he goes and pulls this stunt. And that is how you lose the girl in two minutes or less.
Congratu-fucking-lations.