Page 78 of Headed for Home

“Did you consider the possibility that you’re taking this too seriously?”

That gives me pause. I dig through my memories, trying to recall when I started playing at their age. It’s fuzzy but there were plenty of occasions when I acted like a little shit. No wonder my coach made me run extra laps.

Cassidy must see understanding dawn in my expression. “They don’t necessarily want to go to the big leagues. These kids just want to have fun. There has to be a balance, especially while they’re so young. Have patience with them.”

“This is normal?”

Her head toggles. “To an extent. I’m not sure what else you were expecting.”

“Perfect angels on their best behavior, ready to play ball.”

She blinks, and then cracks up like a hyena. “Ohhhh, you sweet man. That’s not realistic. Kids are messy and wild. Think of them as rowdy customers during happy hour at your bar. Just less belligerent and more adorable.”

I scrub over my jaw, glancing at the tornados of chaos whipping across the field. “That tracks.”

“We’re outside in an unstructured setting. Lucky for you, they’re corralled somewhat. That doesn’t mean you should turn them loose and assume they’ll do what they’re told. They’re not capable of following directions that well. Those who are, such are Kenzie and Charlie, will conveniently forget what they’ve been taught and join the herd.” Her chin lifts to where the twins are hopping over others like frogs and logs.

“Pack mentality,” I mutter while supervising what’s become preschool recess. “I’ve lost control of the situation.”

“Get it back,” Cassidy retorts.

My lips slide into a smile at her encouragement. “You make it sound so easy.”

“It is. They’re testing you right now and you’re letting them take advantage. Didn’t I warn you about this?”

I avert my gaze, taking a sudden interest in a cloud overhead. “You might’ve mentioned it.”

“And did you listen?”

“Obviously not.” My arm thrusts toward the disassembled team that’s moving nonstop. “They’ll poop themselves out eventually, right?”

“You better be joking,” she cracks.

“What if I’m not?”

Cassidy’s stare bores into mine, digging at my insecurities until I want to squirm. “Get out there and show them who’s in charge. You’re the coach. Be firm but fair. Stick to a smaller section of the field. Take control. Give them a reason to respect your authority. Earn their trust. Establish rules and boundaries. After that, you can expand the safe zone. Trial and error. Never give up. These kids need you.”

I allow her pep talk to wash over me in a warm wave. “Damn, that’s hot. How can I repay you?”

“You’re coaching my son’s team,” she deadpans.

“Not good enough. I’m going to give you a hot beef injection.”

Cassidy gags. “Please don’t ever repeat that.”

“Stun you with my cum gun?”

“Absolutely not.”

“Pump you full—”

“How about you focus on building an unbeatable team, stud.”

“Or we could ditch this—”

Her glare silences me. “Don’t make me fire you, trouble.”

“Not possible. It’s a volunteer position,” I remind her.

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