Page 92 of The Problem with Players

“I hate peas.”

I smiled. “I know.”

We stayed on the field for a while longer, then headed back to my house to call it a night. I watched television for a while before deciding it was time for sleep. While heading to my bedroom, and I knocked on Avery’s door. She’d just hopped out of the shower. She had a towel wrapped around her body and one wrapped around her hair as she opened the door. It took everything in my power not to allow my eyes to move up and down her figure.

“What’s up?” she asked, gripping the towel to her body.

“You never answered my question.”

“Which one?”

“Should I be worried about you today?”

She smiled. It was so tiny and short-lived, but it sat against her lips for a moment. “No,” she said, shaking her head. “Not today.”

25

NATHAN

“Ithink you should take the lead today,” Avery told me one afternoon before practice. “Let the guys get a feel of Coach P in his prime.”

I didn’t hate the idea. Truthfully, I was a bit shocked that she offered us such a position. Though lately it seemed as if Avery and I were not only in the same book with one another, we were finding our way to the same page. Sure, sometimes she wrote in cursive, and I didn’t know what the hell was going on with her, but for the most part, we were becoming more and more of a team.

Especially when it came to baseball.

“I’d love that,” I said. I gave her a slight head nod. “Thanks, Coach.”

She nodded back. “I’m going to stay back and do some paperwork before our game this weekend. Have fun out there. I’ll meet you all soon.”

Not only was she letting me take the lead today but she was also giving me no reins. That felt fucking fantastic.

Over the past few weeks, I’d been getting to know the guys more and more. It was clear to me how different they all hadbeen and how they each needed different coaching techniques from me. Some needed a gentler hand, while others needed to be shoved to reach their highest potential.

The one I connected to the most was Cameron, though. Something about him reminded me of myself as a kid. Not only that, but I could also relate to him having a drunk dad who showed up to games and embarrassed the hell out of him. Cameron was a good kid and a fantastic ball player. He could easily go to the pros with the right opportunities presented to him. He was a beast during practices and a natural-born leader. It was clear the rest of the guys looked up to him, and he made sure to help his teammates in any way possible.

It was just when he got on the field during actual games that he froze up, which was something I was looking to break him out of. Cameron Fisher suffered from stage fright. Call it nerves, call it pressure, call it whatever you want to call it. All I knew was that he lived too much in his head and not enough in his heart.

I used to have the same issue as him, which made me the perfect individual to help him break out of that mindset. Then when the scouts came to the games—and they would, due to a few calls I’d made—they could see how talented Cameron and the rest of our players had been. If I did anything for the team, it would be opening them up to the best opportunities for their lives.

During practice, I got the guys warmed up in the facility before shooting them out to the field to run a few drills. As all the guys started heading out to the field, I called out to Cameron.

“Cam, can you hang back for a second?” I asked.

He glanced toward me and raked his hand through his messy blond hair. “Yeah, Coach P?” he asked, jogging over to me.

I clapped my hands together. “Footloose.”

Cameron arched an eyebrow. “What?”

“Footloose,” I repeated as I started hopping up and down. “You need to embrace Footloose.”

“I have no clue what that means.”

“I know. There was a point when I didn’t either. When I was younger, I used to be just like you. I used to overthink every play when it came to game days, and I’d get in my own head about it.”

Cameron huffed as his face turned slightly red and his hands formed fists. “I know I’ve been messing up, Coach P, but I don’t want you to bench me and?—”

“Cam. That’s not why I’m talking to you right now. I’m talking to you because you have a big game in a few days, and I know you can crush it. I’m not here to judge you. I’m here to help.”

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