Page 95 of The Problem with Players

26

AVERY

The first game in the series against Hamilton High was off to an amazing start. The guys were on fire, and I couldn’t help but feel hopeful that we could win this thing.

I felt the pressure of the game riding on Cameron. I sat in the dugout, nearly chewing my nails off, as Nathan stood near the field, clapping his hands. The other players stayed ready on their bases. We had all bases covered, and all Cameron needed to do was hit one good pitch to get Caleb and Tommy home from second and third base. Then we’d win the game.

Unfortunately, Cameron was two strikes down. I saw it happening—the anxiety of the pressure building up in Cameron. Our practices had been amazing, and I felt as if he was getting stronger and stronger each week, but I knew the nerves were still eating at him the same way I was eating at my nails.

He was all in his head and not in his heart.

This wasn’t going to be good.

I stood from the dugout and began clapping along with the rest of our crew. “You got this, Cam!” I shouted out.

His body language said the complete opposite as his father, Adam, shouted at him from the stands not to screw up. That made my blood boil, but I couldn’t focus on the asshat in the audience. I needed to keep my focus on my player.

The more Adam ridiculed him, the more I cheered him on.

Out of nowhere, Nathan called for a time-out. I shot him a look as he gave me a small smile before he jogged over to Cameron. Nathan placed his hands against Cameron’s shoulders and whispered something into his ear. Then Nathan began to jump up and down and broke out into a silly dance, shaking his hips all over the place and waving his arms in the air like a madman. Cameron laughed slightly, and I watched as the heavy pressure on Cameron’s shoulders began to dissipate. Nathan kept dancing like a tree in a windstorm, and he lightly shoved Cameron’s shoulder. Cameron sighed for a moment before he began to dance like Nathan, too.

What in the world was happening?

Nathan clapped his hands together, pulled Cameron into him, and whispered one more thing before patting the top of Cameron’s baseball helmet and swatting him back out to the batting diamond.

Nathan jogged back over to me and crossed his arms, focusing back on the field.

“What was that?” I asked, keeping my eyes on Cameron.

“Footloose,” he replied. “Always helped me get out of my head and more into my heart.”

My heartbeat quickened as those words left his mouth, knowing I was the one who taught him the Footloose technique all those years before. It was something I learned from my mom when I was a little girl and anxiety would swallow me whole. When life was too much, we would take a break to shake off the pressure that was building up. I hadn’t used that technique in such a long time, but to see Nathan use it onCameron did something to my soul that I couldn’t quite describe.

I tried to push the feeling away and went back to my focus on Cameron.

I held my breath the whole time I watched him get into position.

The pitcher was in his zone.

The players were ready on base.

The ball was released.

Cameron swung.

And he hit!

Not only did he hit, but he freaking smashed the heck out of the ball. It soared, too, going over the stadium, which meant Cameron Fisher just hit a grand slam.

A grand freaking slam!

And he made it look easy.

I started shouting and jumping up and down, with Nathan doing the same beside me as each player rounded the bases, hitting their home runs. The moment Cameron made it around, the whole team rushed over and started jumping all over him, cheering like wild.

We won…

We won!

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