Page 164 of The Perfect Love

“Here’s hoping we get to see him play soon.”

I cover my mic and eye Kyle. “No shit.”

He blows out a breath, as annoyed that they haven’t pulled this pitcher as I am.

It’s the top of the seventh, and this game has been way too tight. It makes for a lot more fun to call, but for the first game of the season, you want the team to get the W.

Rae is probably losing her shit over how badly this pitcher is doingandover worrying about Aaron. If anyone can turn this game around, it’s him.

“With one on first and one out so far, this inning could go in any direction,” Kyle says.

“First pitch now to Trent Adams of Brockport. Right down the center and it’s… fouled off.”

“Second pitch, and it’s… high and outside.”

“All this Brockport team needs is one good hit and it could change the outcome of this game,” I say, the tension hitting me all the way up here.

“This is it,” Kyle says. “Third pitch. Another fastball, and—it’s a hit!”

“It’s a grounder between first and second, but Wilkinson is there! He nabs the ball and sends to shortstop Brent Noyce covering second, and then over to Ricky Williams, who holds the bag, and it’s a double play for the Sea Dogs to retire the side!”

“That’s how we do it in Old Lake Town!” Kyle yells.

My heart is pounding with adrenaline, and something snaps into place for me. This might not be a career, but it’s something IknowI want to do in some capacity. This is as close to being in the game as I can get, living vicariously from my spot above the field, but it’s more too. Because this takes it all back to my love of the game. It twines everything I know about the mechanics of baseball with my memories of watching the game with my dad. Doing this, I keep a little piece of him alive even more than I would if I were playing because his voice is in the back of my mind with every play I call.

Jesse texted me a couple of weeks ago with some information about the commentating gig for the Knights, and I’m willing to get on my knees and beg to make sure I get it.

“The tension is high here in the top of the ninth. The Sea Dogs are up by one, and Aaron Cooper has struck out the last two batters. If he can pull off one more strikeout, the Sea Dogs will start their season with a win.”

My eyes are locked on Aaron as he gets ready to throw his first pitch to the next batter.

“He’s got this.”

“And he does. Strike one,” Kyle says.

“Second pitch and it’s… fouled off. Strike two. The crowd here is going wild, and I know we’ve got a group of Ida family here supporting our Ida Warriors alums. They want this win as much as the team does.”

“Another foul,” Kyle says, watching as Aaron throws the next pitch. “And another.”

Aaron’s shoulders tighten as frustration builds. I know how badly he wants this. But I’ve watched him do this hundreds of times. For a split second, he might not think he has this, but he does. Two more fouls, and he’s ready to lose his shit.

“Aaron Cooper is looking more than a little stressed,” Kyle says.

“Keep watching. If there’s one thing he can do, it’s tune everything out. He wants this win, which means he’ll get it.”

Kyle looks at me skeptically when there’s another ball fouled off, but I see the change in Aaron’s demeanor.

“Don’t look at the number of fouls. Look at his stance. The determination in his eyes. And that brief communication with his catcher.” Then his eyes drift over his shoulder, and I know without a doubt, he’s looking at Rae. “He’s about to win the damn game.”

And just like that, the ball flies over the plate, staying right in the center of the box until the perfect moment when it drops.

“Oh my god. That’s an immaculate two-seam fastball, leaving the hitter from Brockport almost falling over to hit it, but he can’t! Strike three!”

“The Sea Dogs win,” I say, eyes locked on the field, and for the briefest moment, Aaron’s gaze flits up to the box before turning toward the stands, where Rae is running onto the field to get to him.

“First game down. What do you think?” Kyle asks. “In for a whole season of this?”

I give him my best cocky smile. “Put me down for next season too.”

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