Chapter 22
“Okay, talk to me about the drama in the travel sports world.” Knight said, as he drove.
It was always interesting to watch him drive—he was almost magically commanding the truck to do what he wanted it to do.
He did everything that way. So in control, this alpha man next to her. “Is it as bad as she said?”
Boy, was it. Travel or club sports—well, it was more about making money off the families than helping the kids learn a sport or how to be a part of a team. Miranda had so many stories…and she’d only played for three full years.
Miranda looked at her partner—and current chauffeur.
They were on their way to Wichita Falls now.
They had some people to track down who knew both Harper and Kevin.
It was a forty-five-minute drive, so…time to pick that Knightly brain of his.
Figure out where his thoughts were leading him.
Probably in a straight line. Knight was just hardwired that way.
Coach Amanda hadn’t really given them anything new, but her information about the team might.
They had Dani tracking down anything to do with Anthony Gors, Junior, Amanda’s previous husband.
“Where do you want to start? The affairs, the catfights, the weird belief some parents have that each team is its own little gang—and it was war? They can be very petty, no denying that. I once saw a dad filling a girl’s brand-new mitt, we’re talking hundreds of dollars for that particular model, with superglue—right before a state tournament.
He was angry that she’d switched teams mid-season.
It wasn’t that she left for any dramatic reason.
Her mother’s job required them relocating, and it put them too far from practice.
So he did that out of spite. I told my dad, and that guy was arrested for petty vandalism.
Fortunately, she hadn’t put her hand in the glove yet.
The glue could have hurt her hand. That glove cost over six hundred dollars. Fifteen years ago.”
“For a damned baseball glove?”
“Softball. Totally different sports, Knight. Don’t mix them up; players get cranky when you do.
” She shot him a grin. Just because. He looked so cute being bewildered like that.
It wasn’t an expression he had often. “I did not have a five-hundred-dollar glove. My father had opinions, very vocal ones, after all.”
“I’m sure he did.” Knight just looked at her, actual surprise in his beautiful stormy gray eyes. “Was that common? That kind of petty behavior?”
“Probably more than it should have been, honestly. But not every team. I still believe what my grandmother always told me. Ninety-nine-point-five percent of people are good people. It’s the half percent that aren’t who ruin everything for everyone—the same is true for travel sports.
It just seems that softball draws the worst of the worst, at times.
But…and I am not going to lie…the drama that I saw when I was a teenager is the main reason I quit.
I had more fun playing for the local rec league in Masterson without the constant need to watch what other parents or players might do.
People put a lot of work into the rec league in Masterson, still.
Including my stepmama—and stepbrothers. I do so love those Masterson boys of mine.
I am thinking of taking Bentley back there and signing him up for the local league when his longer break rolls around.
Letting him stay with my parents again. And me…
take some comp time to be with him. I have about six weeks saved up.
I can make it work. I want him to get to enjoy life in Masterson, too. And know my family.”
“I’m sure he’ll enjoy that. Give me more examples. How did the players act toward each other?”
“The girls were usually pretty typical. Some girls played together for years, so they tended to form cliques. Others would go from team to team every season—searching for more intense situations. Those girls tended to either burn out by fifteen, or they grew even more intense. And moved on to higher level. You couldn’t always predict at twelve what group a girl would fall into.
And the majority—well, there is usually a mass exodus in twelves, fourteens, and even sixteens. Girls who want to do something else.”
“Why didn’t you finish it out through high school?”
“That drama. It wasn’t like that in high school ball, fortunately.
So I just played with the girls from my high school.
Sage Lowell, remember her, the chief deputy?
—she’s a Tyler now—we were damned good at middle infield.
I wasn’t exactly tolerant of people acting that way.
It seemed so petty and I wasn’t up for that.
Adults caused ninety percent of the problems, other than a few squabbles between teenage girls that were inevitable and developmental. ”
“Why is that?”
“I think it is…commercialization. There is big money in kids’ sports.
Big money. Along with fake dreams. Competitive softball has been growing for decades.
It is not as regulated as it should be. The kids are the ones who pay the price.
Sad, really. Because most girls get into it at a young age because they love it.
At least…that was what I saw, anyway. I’m sure some girls have great experiences.
I was not one of them. More…a four-to-six out of ten, maybe. ”
“Did you believe Coach Amanda? About her relationship with Kevin?”
“Do I believe they had a romantic relationship? Probably. Deputy Lindhour already confirmed Amanda’s alibi.
That girl is good at what she does. I hate that Sheriff Ted doesn’t see that.
I don’t think Amanda Riccards is the killer, although she could physically be capable.
I just don’t feel we have enough to even put her fully on the list of potentials.
” She had learned long ago not to assume anything, though.
“But was she angry enough at him? I don’t know…
we haven’t come across anyone who said they were having problems of any kind. Not between them, though.”
“Is it possible this could have stemmed from an issue with previous players?”
“Parents can get very vindictive when it comes to their kids, Knight. Anything at this point is possible.”
“Including murder?”
“I have a friend with two teenagers who play. She likes to send me videos of parents behaving badly at softball. Because she sees it. I’m talking full out assaults.
Sometimes they go after the umpires. Most aren’t like that, of course, but it’s always the squeaky mouse who gets chased by the cat, as my grandmother would put it.
There is enough melodrama in the kids’ sports world that it gets noticed and talked about. ”
“The things I missed out on as a kid.”
“Why I think you may have just tried to make a joke. I’m shocked. I think you must be learning.”
“You’ve said twice—not all teams are like that—yet the one Kevin was associated with was. That might just mean something. Is it possible some teams draw people who thrive on the drama?”
Miranda thought for a moment. Of what she knew of the softball world.
“My memories are those of a young teen, Knight. They might not be accurate, considering it was almost twenty years ago. I remember subbing for a few teams where it was just…smooth sailing the entire way. And playing against teams that had it all together. And I had really good experiences for the most part.”
“Would parents keep their kids on teams with too much drama overall?”
“Some, yes. Absolutely. There are those who are seriously chasing division one softball scholarships, even though…a very small percentage will even play in college at all, let alone D1. But so many parents ignore the numbers. Fortunately, mine was not one of them. If that team could provide whatever it is they were angling for—some parents would ignore abuse and mistreatment. Far too easily. Some would also ignore it if it meant more wins for their daughters. And there are some who fully believe their ten-year-old will be the next Monica Abbott. Who will get the D1 scholarship to the top school in the nation in softball. And they will fight until the final inning to protect that.”
“Even commit murder?”
“We’ve seen people commit murder for far less, haven’t we?”
“There is that. But…this is a child’s game, right?”
“For some, they act like it’s…life or death. Really takes the fun out of it, when you think about it.”
And that was the saddest part. The kids were the ones who lost out the most.