Page 129 of The Show

“I’ll see you after the game.”

I gave one final look around and then left as quickly as I’d arrived. I took my time to find Murray, leisurely walking down the long tunnel toward the dugouts. A couple of staff nodded to me as I passed them, but for the most part it was empty; the music blaring from the stands echoed off the hard walls. By the time I reached my seats behind the dugout, Rafe had joined Murray, and thankfully that was it.

“Girls stay in the box?”

Murray nodded. “Yeah, they’re still talking about weddings.”

“Cool.” I took my cap off and then replaced it, feeling fidgety.

I wanted Lowe with me, but I also needed to concentrate on the game. I needed to focus. I’d never been the best person to watch a game next to, and when the stakes were high, it was usually only Murray and Rafe who stuck it out.

Today the stakes weren’t just high.

They were stratospheric.

When I look back, I firmly believe that I didn’t breathe until the moment Jupiter stepped up to bat in the bottom of the first inning. It was possible the crowds hadn’t either, because the second he left the dugout you could have heard a pin drop. He ran through his usual ritual; spin of the bat, scratching his trademark zigzag in the sand, then the crack of his neck - always left, then right - before taking his position.

The Yankees pitcher - the one who’d replaced Ace Watson - reared back, his knee raised, and the ball shot from his hand at eighty miles per hour.

Jupiter swatted it away like it was nothing but an annoying fly, yet the crack was so loud the whole of Manhattan would have heard it. The camera followed it through the air - flying higher, higher, higher - until it passed over the stadium walls, making its way into the Hudson and the groups who took dinghies out on match days hoping to catch any stray balls; either there or to the bottom of the murky waters.

GoldenHome Runsigns shot up from nearly every Lions fan in the crowd; because they’d been placed on every seat before the game.

It was a sight to behold.

It was harder to say what was louder; the organ blaring out or the deafening cheer, especially when Barclay ran onto the field and retrieved Jupiter’s bat. The cheering was louder still when Barclay sat down by the dugout and waited for Jupiter; receiving a pat on the head when he took his bat back.

It was something they’d practiced at Spring Training. A gimmick, yes, but from the hollering still going on, the crowds didn’t care.

Murray turned around and pointed to his chest with a face splitting grin. “My dog!”

The Lions had taken the first home run of the game, and my shoulders dropped six inches to finally relax.

“Okay, now I need a fucking beer!” I yelled over the noise at the boys, who were also making themselves hoarse, before grabbing them into a huge jumping hug.

By the time we reached bottom of the ninth, The Lions had also made some of the best defensive plays I’d ever seen. One had Velasquez sprinting out to right field, leaping four feet in the air to catch a ball which had bounced, then hurled it at Tanner Simpson before falling forward into a roll. Simpson then tossed it to Jupiter to snag milliseconds before The Yankees batter crossed third base.

It had been a spectacle to watch, and you’d never have guessed they hadn’t played together until a month ago.

The entire game had been like that.

Electric. Spine-tingling. Utterly thrilling. Perfection.

We’d hit four home runs; courtesy of one more from Jupiter, one from Tanner Simpson, and one from Boomer Jones. The Jones home run earned a bigger cheer from the home crowd than Jupiter’s had, due to it being his first in a year, after he’d spent most of the previous season injured.

However, following the last innings, The Lions were down six-four. This was our last chance to win the game, and if I wasn’t blocked in by Murray and Rafe, I’d be pacing up and down the row. Though Rafe was mumbling under his breath next to me, almost more jumpy than I was.

Lux Weston led off the inning with a base hit to right field, followed by Tanner Simpson with a hard double that unfortunately wasn’t able to score Lux. They were now standing on second and third, with two outs, and the game was in the hands of Sawyer James, the new second baseman – who was still hitless. He would walk out of here a hero if he got this next one over the fence, scoring three runs and ending the game.

Murray, Rafe and I had our eyes locked onto the pitcher as his arm moved back.

No one blinked.

The ball flew out and made contact right in the sweet spot of James’ bat.

Then the home crowd lost it. They didn’t need to see it land to know the ball was soaring its way to winning the game.

It was official. The Lions had taken the first game of the season.

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