Page 34 of Players and Pages
"Ha ha. I was just more of an outside kid," I said defensively. "School was boring. I did well just so I could play ball. I never thought it would have led me to the Knockouts, but here I am."
"Yeah, I was the same way, but I killed on my game console. I was a god when I playedGears of War," Cy told us.
"How'd I not know that you’re a gaming nerd?" Jackson asked, stunned.
"Closet nerd," he laughed. Leave it to Cy to just casually forget to mention something like that. He had the attention span of a squirrel sometimes, so we couldn't be too shocked.
"Are you hiding anything else in that closet?" I joked and that got a punch in my shoulder from him. “Just making sure there aren’t any more surprises.”
Cy grunted a no, which did nothing to stop our laughter.
We finally reached the camp. It was rustic, that was for sure. Everything was carved from wood half claimed by nature. I glanced around as we made our way to the field. Small cabins. Log community buildings. Outdoor covered pavilion with long tables. Archery targets. Shower houses.
At least it was clean. Every building and path we passed was well cared for despite the over abundance of vines.
"How cool are these old-school baseball fields? It's been a while since I played on real dirt," Cy said as we finally found them. His eyes were lighting up and his steps picked up pace.
"All it’s missing is the kids," Jackson added. As if on cue, a dozen or so kids ran out onto the left field. They all lookedabout eight to ten years old and had enough energy to make me question my existence here.
Coach really thought I was a good fit? Cy? Sure, he had enthusiasm in spades. Jackson? Another yes, he had the patience of a saint. But me? I had a grumpy resting face and sarcasm.
A loud whistle shrieked before an older gentleman with a beer belly and short shorts appeared. He dropped the whistle that hung around his neck and frowned out at the group for a moment.
When we approached, you couldn’t miss the amusement in his eyes. He was clearly happy here.
"Coach Stokes?" I asked as we got closer. His eyebrows lifted when he saw us, a tentative smile replacing the frown under his thick mustache.
"What can I do for you three?" he questioned in a voice that was full of bass.
"We’re with the Knockouts, here to help with the summer camp," I said, holding out a hand towards him. "I'm Griff. This is Cy and Jackson."
"Oh you're those boys that play ball and gyrate your hips huh?" Stokes asked, doing a little shimmy and letting out a raspy cackle.
"Yes," I said easily. There was no point in giving him anything but confidence. I wasn’t ashamed of what we did. We brought fun to baseball and brought in new crowds to the sport. "We perform, do dances,andplay baseball."
"Back in my day, we just stuck to the sport’s rules. No adding all the extras in," he complained, back to being grumpy again. That I could work with.
“Times change,” Cy said with an easy grin. “We’ll keep the dancing to a minimum out here. Though, it might throw off the opposing teams during games.”
He studied Cy before letting out a huff of a laugh. "I bet it would. These here are the kids enrolled so far and we will likely have a couple more that will be here tomorrow. My wife has a complete list, I'll have her bring them later with the lunches. She works closely with your coach’s wife."
“Thank you, sir,” I said. “We’d like to introduce ourselves and go over some basics with the kids. Would that work for you?”
He grunted a yes and headed for the shade of one of the dugouts. We watched as Stokes took a seat and leaned back before pulling his hat over his eyes.
“He’s going to be a big help,” Cy commented as we headed to the pitcher’s mound, barely holding back his laughter.
“Clearly, he’s not a Knockouts fan,” Jackson agreed. “Maybe we’ll change his mind.”
“Maybe, but that would be hard to do with his eyes closed,” I muttered.
The kids were still milling around and talking, no one noticing us yet.
I let out a loud whistle, getting their attention. “Hello, everyone, I’m Griff. My friends, Cy and Jackson and I are here to help teach you some baseball fundamentals and how to keep the game fun,” I called out to them.
“Why should we listen to you?” one of the taller kids asked. His arms were crossed and from the scowl on his face, I could tell he was going to be trouble.
“We know a little something about the sport,” Jackson started. “We’ve played from t-ball through school and college. Have any of you here heard of the Knuckleball Knockouts?”
