11. Baseball Daddy
ELEVEN
BASEBALL DADDY
ISABELLA
Believe it or not, I did end up putting on the game.
I know, I know. I’m disappointed with myself too.
As much as I wanted to not watch—and believe me, I really didn’t want to—I had this feeling that I should.
A fact not helped by the way Fletch is trying to be my friend and asked me if I would be watching.
When I’m working, I usually watch—I use that term very loosely—from the studio in the stadium where I never get to hear the commentary so I’m typically bothering Jamie or someone else on the crew to explain what’s going on.
So maybe watching on TV will be a better experience?
I’m curled up on the couch, wrapped in my favorite fleece blanket with a Diet Coke and frozen chocolate covered strawberries.
The announcers are in the middle of going through the starting lineup for both teams and making their predictions for the game.
It’s the first game in this away series against the San Diego Bears and the sportscasters all ended up picking the Suns to win based on how strong of a start they’ve had this season.
Especially in an away series. They’ve come away the winners for all their away series so far, which is an impressive feat.
The announcers said it has something to do with being around an unfriendly crowd instead of their home crowd.
I guess the crowd tends to be more antagonistic toward away teams. I haven’t really noticed that from my side of things.
Although, I wasn’t really paying attention to the crowd’s interaction with the teams.
The image flashes away from the announcers and focuses on Fletcher making his way to home plate for his first at bat. Guess it’s game time.
“Whatcha doing?” a voice asks over my shoulder.
“Jesus Christ, Jordan!” I nearly jump out of my skin. “What the fuck? Why are you sneaking around?”
She has the biggest evil smile I’ve ever seen. “I’m not sneaking around. But if you weren’t so busy ogling your baseball daddy, then you would’ve heard me.” She tilts her head toward the TV where Fletch is settling in at the plate with a few practice swings.
“I’m not ogling,” I say defensively.
“You were totally ogling.”
“Was not,” I grumble, keeping an eye on the screen.
“You never watch baseball! You were absolutely ogling.” She crosses her arms over her chest. “I’m your best friend. You can’t fool me.”
I let out a frustrated groan, dropping my head back against the couch. “He asked if I was watching! I felt like I owed it to him.” I tilt my head to look at her, finding her watching me with a smug look on her face.
“Why would you owe it to him to watch his game? Hm? He’s just a guy from work. Right?” she presses with a smirk.
“I— He’s—” I stumble over my words, failing to form a complete sentence before I give up. “Leave me alone, Jordan! Let me live my life.”
“Mhmm,” she hums, a knowing glint in her eye.
She snatches a strawberry from my bowl before I can react and plops down on the sofa next to me.
“So, who’s winning?” she asks around the food in her mouth.
She’s still in her dress slacks and blouse from the office.
All she’s done is toed off her shoes by the front door and ditched her oversized tote bag on the kitchen counter.
It seems giving me shit for watching the game was enough motivation to derail her usual post-work routine of changing into loungewear, throwing her highlighted hair into a messy bun, and scrubbing the makeup from her face.
“No one yet. It just started,” I say quietly, my fingers toying with a stray thread on my blanket.
“Oh my god!” Her entire body jolts forward so she’s sitting up as close to me as possible. “You’re watching it from the beginning? Oh, you are so obsessed with him.” She grabs another strawberry before sitting back again with a giant grin, showing off the slight gap between her two front teeth.
“Am not!” I whine.
“Whatever you say, cutie.” She pops the strawberry into her mouth and settles in as we watch Fletcher take his turn at bat. It wasn’t his best showing, but at least he got a base hit and made it to first.
Best showing? Who am I?
“So, are we watching the whole game or what?” Jordan asks now that Fletch’s at bat is over.
“Maybe? I don’t know. They’re usually long, so maybe only like half depending on how it’s going for the Suns. Also depends on if I actually start to understand what’s happening in this game.” I laugh. “I still have to ask the crew every time something new happens. I feel so dumb watching.”
“You’re not dumb. It’s new to you. You can’t be an expert if you don’t have any experience in it. I’d be shocked if you were an expert all of a sudden after only nine games. And lord knows you aren’t paying attention the whole time for all of them because, you know, you’re actually doing your job.”
I sigh and settle into the couch further as Cooper Lennox hits a double, putting him on second and Fletcher on third.
The camera zooms in as Cooper takes his helmet off to run a gloved hand back and forth over his short hair before slipping the helmet back on.
“Yeah, I mean I guess you’re right. I hate that I don’t know what’s going on.
Asking the others always makes me feel like a complete idiot, but I know I’m not.
You know how I am. I hate being bad at something.
It makes me feel like I’m failing.” I take a sip of my drink to clear the thickness building in my throat.
“Damn, how did this conversation get so deep?” I chuckle.
“Girl, you know me. I love to get deep.” The waggling of Jordan’s eyebrows tells me she very much meant that as an innuendo.
I roll my eyes but laugh and focus back on the TV in time to see the next batter hit his pitch into the outfield, giving Fletcher the opportunity to head for home.
“Go, go, go!” I sit forward, locking in on the screen. “Run, Ryan! YES!” I throw my arms up in celebration as he slides across home plate right before the ball is thrown to the catcher, earning the Suns their first run of the game.
“Not obsessed, she says,” Jordan mutters from next to me. I chuck a throw pillow in her direction without looking as I settle back in.
By some miracle, we sit through all nine innings. It’s the bottom of the ninth right now and the Suns are up six to five. San Diego gets this last shot at bat before the Suns are officially deemed the winners. There’s one out and a Bears player on first base, so the tension is high.
I can see Fletcher as he bounces his body back and forth, ready for the runner to attempt to steal second, but he doesn’t.
He waits until Anderson throws the pitch.
The batter tips it straight back toward Anderson, who scoops up the ball and launches it at Fletcher in a quick snap, beating the runner to the base by a mile.
But the play doesn’t stop there. The second the ball meets Fletcher’s glove, foot kept on the base, he fires it down the line to second, earning them the extra out.
“What an incredible double play by the Suns to end the game! Anderson and Fletcher have impressive reflexes and remarkable speed on their throws,” the commentators say about the final play.
“They won!” Jordan cheers and jumps off the couch, pulling me up with her. Together the two of us jump around. I honestly feel so ridiculous, but I will admit it was fun to watch Fletcher play. Even if I don’t like the game.
After a few minutes, we switch off the TV and make our ways to our separate rooms with energized goodnights.
I’m standing in front of my bathroom sink, inspecting my features in the mirror.
My under eyes are starting to form dark circles from the late hour, but my eyes have a sparkle in them from all the excitement.
I chew on my bottom lip as I debate texting to congratulate him.
That’s not weird, right?
It probably is.
I shouldn’t.
Should I?
Fuck it.
Isabella
Congrats on the win
That was a nice double play there at the end
There. Simple but gets the sentiment across.
I’m climbing into bed when my phone buzzes with a text.
Fletcher
Holy shit
Is this your way of telling me you watched?
Isabella
I will admit nothing
Fletcher
Omg you totally watched!
You did!
It’s okay, I know you only watched it for me
Isabella
I plead the fifth
Fletcher
It’s what friends do
Support each other
I’ll shout your praises from the dugout at the next home game in return
Isabella
For the love of god
Please don’t
Fletcher
So
You know what time it is
Isabella
Bedtime?
Fletcher
What? No! It’s question time, grandma
Isabella
Who the fuck you calling grandma?
Fletcher
The woman who is in bed at 10:30
Isabella
Yes, well some of us have to work tomorrow morning
Fletcher
Me too, but you don’t see me in bed, do you?
Isabella
I very much don’t want to know if you’re in bed right now
Fletcher
I’m not
Just so you know
I knew you were curious ;)
I’m on the bus waiting for the rest of the team to head back to the hotel
Isabella
I literally just said I didn’t want to know
Fletcher
I can read between the lines
So! I do believe it was my turn
Isabella
*sigh*
Fletcher
Would you rather
Isabella
Oh god
Fletcher
WOULD YOU RATHER
Have all your dreams live streamed on the internet or have your most embarrassing moments go viral?
Isabella
Oh my god
Why are these both the worst?
Fletcher
That’s the point of would you rather questions!
They can’t be easy
Isabella
Fine
Um
Idk I guess embarrassing moments go viral
Fletcher
Oooo interesting choice
Why that one?
Dreams too spicy for public consumption? ;)
Isabella
That wasn’t part of the question
I answered the question
Fletcher
I’ll let it slide this time
And I would pick the same one
Your turn!
Isabella
If a movie was made based on your life, who would you want to play you?
Fletcher
Ohhh that’s a good one
I know he doesn’t look like me, but I gotta pick my ultimate man crush
Jackson West
Isabella
I actually laughed out loud
Fletcher
What? Why?
What’s wrong with Jackson??
Isabella