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I grinned. "Then, we follow with Coop and Blaise. With D-Train looming as cleanup, their big T might crack."
"Good thinking there." Skip jotted down notes.
The game was a nail-biter from the beginning. The Walleyes came roaring out of their dugout and scored two runs in the first inning. My Beacons growled when it was time to bat.
"Shake it off, men. Stay focused." By the third inning, we were tied again.
Still, we couldn't find any relief from the intensity. We pulled ahead, but in the seventh, the Walleyes managed to tie the game again. Ace still had his stuff, and he coerced their best hitter into hitting a ground ball, a slow roller, to Andy. He scooped it up and threw to first. The throw clearly beat the runner, but the umpire, situated at an awkward angle, called the runner safe.
Groans of disappointment rippled through the crowd. Feeling the frustration welling up inside, I headed for the umpire without speaking with Skip first.
"Ump, can we talk about that last call?" I did my best to remain respectful while not backing down. The crowd's murmuring behind me was like a slowly rising growl of discontent.
He turned to face me with a blank expression on his face. "What's the issue, Coach?"
"According to the rulebook, if the thrown ball reaches the first baseman's glove before the runner hits the base, he's out. I believe that's what happened here."
The umpire squinted at me. "From my angle, he was safe."
I took a deep breath and shoved my hands in my pockets. "It was a tough call. Can we get a second opinion from the base umpire?"
He grunted, but my calm demeanor ruled the moment. "Okay, let's see what he has to say."
The base umpire had been watching our discussion with interest, taking a few steps toward us. When we joined him, the lead ump explained the situation and asked for an opinion.
After a moment of reflection, the base umpire nodded at me. "Coach Kincaid is right. The ball was in Coop's glove before the runner's foot hit the base. In my opinion, the runner's out."
The lead ump turned toward the crowd. "Correction, the runner is out at first base!"
Loud cheers erupted from the bleachers as I strolled back to the dugout, doing my best to avoid a pompous swagger. When I glanced out at the field, I saw grins on the players' faces as they slapped their free hands into their gloves.
We rolled into the ninth inning with a lead. Victory was within our grasp, but I didn't let the team rest. "Let's go, go… it's a narrow lead, and we've seen what they can do." Before the inning began, I pulled Ace aside. "Three outs to a complete game…remember state? Let's see that magic again."
"I've got it, Coach."
Ace struck out the first two batters and was close to retiring the side. Next, the Walleyes' cleanup hitter slammed a fastball deep. My stomach churned as Sammy, our center fielder, raced to haul it in. He made a spectacular catch, diving onto the grass. The game was ours.
After gentlemanly handshakes with their opponents, our team jogged into the dugout with a spring in their steps. "Great job out there, men. You played with heart and pride. Hang onto this feeling all summer, and we'll use it next spring to fuel a repeat run at the championship."
"Hell, yeah!" shouted Ace.
"Now, let's cool down at the concession stand. Rafe's got some of those famous brownies waiting."
The way to a high school athlete's heart was always through his stomach. About half of the guys smiled like elementary school kids who'd been told they'd get cake to celebrate a classmate's birthday.
As I strolled past the bleachers to grab my own brownie, I spotted two friendly, familiar faces. Theo and Rafe, the brownie expert. They were my best friends and the portrait of a perfect couple. Rafe had arrived in Blue Harbor barely over a year ago, but he'd quickly made himself part of the community. They were chatting with some of the players' parents.
Theo waved a hand. "Tyler! Congrats on the big win, Coach. Your team put it all out there today."
I grinned and wrapped him in a warm, squeezing hug. "Thanks for the comments. They mean a lot from the two of you."
Theo's smile faltered briefly, replaced by a sad frown. "Dawson would have been so proud of you. He always said you had a gift for bringing out the best in everyone, on and off the field."
A hard lump formed in my throat at the mention of D. He was my best friend and Theo's husband. We'd lost him to cancer almost three years earlier. He was one of the best pitchers ever to wear a Blue Harbor Beacons uniform.
"He's here with us, in spirit," I declared. "He's always cheering us on."
Rafe quietly listened to our exchange before speaking up. "I'll bet you're starving after that hard-fought game. Better grab one of those brownies before the players snarf them all up."
