CHAPTER 46 Archer Bradley
Lineup
I’m anxious as I drive to the stadium. Tonight’s game starts at seven, and I’m getting there earlier than I usually would.
I was fully reinstated as of yesterday, though, and I’m ready to be there—even if nobody else is just yet.
Guys will be around. Pitchers are always here early warming up, and besides, I have quick meetings to get to with the team trainer, hitting coach, PR director, and Troy.
The last week seemed to slow to a crawl, and I think I learned something. That old saying about time healing all wounds isn’t true. Or if it is, maybe it has some caveats.
If anything, time has made things worse. A little distance from the island is only a reminder about how much I fell for someone I wasn’t supposed to. How I let her in only to be disappointed once again.
Despite all that, I wish there was some solution here.
I miss the dynamic we shared, and I know it’s affecting me.
I’m not sleeping well without her in my arms. Everything feels like a chore.
The only reprieve I seem to get is playing baseball, and I’m hopeful that being back in the game tonight will be a literal game-changer for me.
That I’ll get back to being myself. I keep thinking that maybe all this hurt is sitting with me because I don’t have the game to focus on.
All that changes today. Right now.
I took a ton of reps off Rush yesterday, and we’re both ready for tonight.
I head right for the main bulletin board near the hallway leading to the field, and nerves climb my chest as I study it, looking for today’s lineup card. It’s not there yet. I guess it’s usually posted just a few hours before game time. I’m too early.
I know I’m starting today, but seeing my name on that card will make it feel real.
I head to my locker next, and I set everything up.
I check my bats, my cleats, and my glove.
I’m less worried about playing and more worried about how the post-game interviews will go.
I’m not thrilled about answering questions about my suspension, which is surely what we’ll touch on in today’s meeting with the PR team.
I greet some of the players I haven’t seen since spring training, and the vibe in here is mostly warm and welcoming. Like I never left.
I meet quickly with the trainer and hitting coach, and then I head up to the offices to meet with the publicity team. The PR director, Natalie, is waiting for me, and she waves me into her office. She goes over what to say and, more specifically, what not to say.
“Keep the focus tightly on the game,” Natalie tells me.
“No rambling. Don’t answer questions about your personal life or your time off the field.
Shift to your teammates, baseball, and how excited you are to be back.
Be sure to say how grateful you are to the team, the organization, and the league.
Be positive. No negativity, no anger. Remember, keep it general.
It’s been tough, not I’ve been so depressed and spiraled all the way down to the Bahamas. Any questions?” she asks.
I press my lips together and shake my head. I’ve been to enough of these PR prep meetings that I know what to say and what not to say to keep myself off Natalie’s list of problem players.
“What will you say if you’re asked whether your suspension was fair?” she asks, clearly poking at me.
I clear my throat. “That I served my time, and I’m glad to be back on the field.”
She nods. “Acceptable. What about if someone asks for a comment on your vacation?”
“My focus is on the field.”
“Great. Remember, if a question makes you uncomfortable, redirect and answer it how you wish it had been asked. Now get out on that field and make us all feel how your absence affected this team.”
“Will do,” I say.
I stop by Troy’s office next. “I’m so glad to have you back,” he tells me. He holds up the lineup card that I checked for in the locker room, and he passes it over to me.
I stare at my name in the spot of the fifth batter. Not as much pressure as cleanup, but still a good position to ease back into things. I review the rest of the lineup.
1. 3B – Noah
2. 2B – Maddox
3. SS – Winters
4. 1B – Brewer
5. LF – Bradley
6. RF – Owens
7. C – Bardot
8. CF – Prater
9. DH – Reynolds
I pass the card back to him. “I’m ready.”
“Then let’s fucking go, Archer. I want you to know how proud I am of you for serving your time and coming back with a positive outlook. We certainly missed you, and we’re ready to see what you can do. Give us everything you’ve got tonight.”
“I will.” I project a confidence I’m not sure I feel. If anything, I feel nervous to get back out there. What if I get out there and they realize Cade was a better fit for this team after all? What if I’m bumped out of my spot on the lineup?
I’ll project confidence until the end of time despite those thoughts swirling around.
By the time my personal meetings are over, it’s time for workouts. I head to the cages to do some reps there and work through some footwork and routes with the other outfielders. We review the charts for the team we’re playing and do a little soft toss with the outfield coach.
I get stretched by the team trainers, which shifts my anxiety into focus. I start to settle as routine kicks in. The nerves dissipate as I feel like myself again. Like a ballplayer. Like the guy I’ve always been…just with one more chip on his shoulder and a little more heartache inside.
The clock ticks closer and closer to game time, and it’s time for batting practice.
I find my old rhythm with Johnny, who I joke with in the outfield between plays, and I feel the scrutiny from every direction as I stand out there.
Coaches, teammates, the media. Fans arriving early.
The stadium staff. Everyone’s watching. Everyone’s eyes are on me.
It’s up to me to prove that I’m the same Archer who left the field last season with a smile and returned this season forty games late.
The buffet opens for our pregame meal, though nerves seem to have killed my hunger. I force down a protein shake and some hydration drinks, and Cooper forces me to eat a small plate of pasta. And then we’re in the final stretch. Mental prep, taping, adjusting batting gloves.
Getting dressed.
I’m in my home uniform for the first time in forty games, and the reality plows into me.
I’m always a little anxious before games start, and that’s amplified today. But I’m also excited. That feeling of needing to prove myself is strong in my gut, and I’m ready.
Emotion clogs my throat as I jog onto left field in my uniform. I hear the roar of the crowd, and the feeling warms me from the inside. That feeling of being where I’m supposed to be once again.
Johnny and I throw balls to each other to warm up, and he throws to Duke on his other side as I move to increase the distance between us a bit between throws.
Warm-ups come to an end, and we toss our balls in. I meet Johnny in the middle, and he fist-bumps me. “Glad to have you back,” he says.
“Good to be back.”
The national anthem plays, the ceremonial first pitch is thrown, and then players are introduced.
When the announcer says “Archer Bradley,” a loud, enthusiastic roar rumbles through the crowd.
They’re excited to have me back.
I’m excited to be back.
Let’s fucking play ball.