Page 112 of Winning Play

Shehated the tears that filled her eyes, butKimdidn’t hesitate to slide into the seat beside her brother. “Theteam’s under so much pressure since the off-campus drinking mess.Spenceblames himself—he thinks if he’d spent more time with them, those three players wouldn’t have gotten involved.Itried to tell him he couldn’t control everything.”Sheshrugged and took a breath. “WhentheADtold the team that the conference recommended that the national organization disqualify the team for theNationalChampionshipTournament…Idon’t know… he didn’t handle it well.Iwas with him when the coach called him to a meeting, butIhaven’t heard from him since.”Sheswiped at the moisture beneath her eyes. “Youthink the coach benched him?”

Daveshrugged. “Possibly.Whenyou say he didn’t handle things well…”

“Heskipped a team meeting and practice.”

“Thecoach might sit him for a game or two.”Daveslipped his arm around his sister’s shoulders and hugged her against his side. “Cuthim some slack,HalfPint.Watchingyour dream crash and burn… that’s rough.”

“DidSpencemention that the school’s appealing that recommendation to the national committee?”Laurensaid. “TheconferencerecommendeddisqualifyingFCUfrom post-season tournaments—Idon’t believe the national organization has responded to the appeal.”

“NotsureSpencerealizes that—or if he thinks that’s possible.”Kimshrugged. “Toomuch stress, maybe.”

“Ifhe’s anything like the guy sitting between us,Spencemay not want to talk about it,”Laurensaid as she nudgedDave.

Kimbit back a smile whenDaveside-eyed his wife.Hehanded the notebook toKimand nodded toward theTV. “Game’sabout to start.”

Spenceshook his head when another teammate,ByronTeller, pulled him aside to express displeasure thatSpencewould not play in the game inTallahassee.

“Don’tworry about me, man.Seizethis opportunity to shine at shortstop… your true position.You’vegot this,Byron.”

“Youset a high bar.”

“Takeit higher.”Spenceslapped his shoulder. “Claimyour position.”

Theyounger player flushed. “Wishme luck.”

“Youdon’t need it.I’vegot good vibes—go out there, have fun, and let your instincts guide you.You’vegot this.”

Hedidn’t realizeCoachDavisstood within earshot until he moved closer toSpence.

“Theguys listen to you,Spencer; thanks for stepping up.”

Spenceshrugged, “Juststating the truth.”

“Andyou don’t think you’re a worthy captain?Theguys out there think otherwise.”Davismoved toward the dugout and paused. “Don’tbeat yourself up for being human.Thisteam’s lucky to have you.”

Spencehadn’t missed a game since he’d claimed the starting shortstop position when his redshirt year ended.Today, though, he watched from the dugout, and it sucked.Feelingsof guilt gnawed at him for choosing himself over the team.

Shakingoff the remorse,Spencertook up his post at the far end of the dugout and stayed focused, offering encouragement to his teammates on each play or run scored.CoachRamirezasked his opinion when leftyKyleAlexanderwalked the first two batters in the sixth inning.

“He’sthrown what… seventy pitches?"Spencersaid, glancing up to meet his coach's gaze. "Hotday—he’s lost some movement on his fastball this inning.”Spenceglanced at his coach. “Youthinking about bringing inRamy?”Hereferred to the freshman right-handed pitcherRamonSuarez.

“Goodcall.”CoachRamirezremarked, signaling "time” and heading out to the mound.

Spencerwished he was out there with them—usually, he'd remind the infielders of the outs, force plays at second and third, play double play depth—but today, he could only watch.

Heshook hands withAlexanderwhen he returned to the dugout, praising the pitcher for his effort.EricMarsdengreeted them both when he joined them.

“Wickedmovement on your fastball,Alexie,"Ericnoted asSpencerefocused on the field.Byronshaded toward third asSuarezdelivered the first pitch toTallahassee'sright-handed slugger.Thebat cracked as the ball shot across the infield grass.Tellerscooped the ball in his glove, flipped it toNickLodgeat second base for the first out, and then onto first basemanBillyMarvellto seal the double play.

Ashe cheered with his teammates,Spenceyearned to play on the field with them.Instead, he faced sitting out a second game—an eternity stretching ahead.

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Swallowingthe lump in her throat,Kimfought the hint of nausea she felt watchingFCUplay withoutSpence.Theplay-by-play announcers made vague references to a possible injury, butKimsaw the determined look in his expression whenever the camera panned the bench.Thefirst to congratulate runners crossing the plate, to give the pitcher a pat on the back after each inning, and to meet the team with words of encouragement each time they came off the field,Spenceexemplified the perfect teammate.ButKimknew he blamed himself for not playing—hadn’t he shouldered the blame for every other obstacle the team had faced this season?—and in the back of her mind, she wondered if his season would have been less tumultuous had they not crossed the “friends-only” line?

Shesighed when she recorded the last out.

“Goodgame, don’t you think?”Daveasked. “Allthings considered.”

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