Page 70 of The Sweet Spot

Whit: I had to finish myself off after you went to talk to Tate, and the first thing you're going to ask me is you plan on getting a catfish tattoo?

5 minutes later

JB: Sorry, I read that, and it made my brain fry so much I dropped my phone into the popcorn booth. Took two employees and Cincinnati's answer to your dad to fish it out.

Whit: You're ridiculous.

JB: And you didn't finish your sentence... what exactly did you do to, ahem, take care of yourself.

Whit: Maybe next time your Tate-free, I can show you.

JB: Fucking hard already, and I'm about to go play a ball game. Thanks, dearest Whitney.

Whit: You're welcome. Good luck.

Whit: My dad just sent me a blurry photo of his tv screen. You were at the plate, and he captioned it: your fella went yard. He's started calling you “your fella.” I don't know how to stop it.

JB: Don't stop it. I've never been a fella before. I'm honored to be your fella.

Whit: He also says you're chasing the high pitch.

JB: ...he watched from a maintenance shed in CHARLOTTE and he's right. How is he right?

Whit: He's always right. It's deeply annoying. You'll get used to it.

JB: How's Wyndham?

Whit: Tied for second going into the weekend. Lost focus on the back nine.

JB: What distracted you?

Whit: Nothing.

JB: Whit.

Whit: A thought. Going to bed.

JB: WHAT THOUGHT? You can't just say “a thought” and leave.

JB: ...it was about my finger placement, wasn't it?

Ten minutes later.

JB: Goodnight then. sleep well. think about my hands.

Week Two

JB: okay this is actually unfair. you have the WEEK off. an entire week. and I'm in Seattle until Sunday.

Whit: I'm aware. I've been sitting in my father's Catfish dungeon—scratch that, his basement—watching you.

JB: You're FREE and I'm STILL not. Do you understand how cruel that is? The one week you've got nothing, I'm three time zones away catching night games. 🫩

Whit: I went to one of your games on TV last night and fell asleep in the 5th. I dreamed about you and woke up annoyed at myself.

JB: Annoyed because you missed me, or because your hand hurt?

Whit: ....