“Never.” I laugh. “Where would the fun be in that?”
I stand so I can see him a little better. “How bout you go ahead and call a couple balls and put him behind in the count.” I nod toward Theo. “He works better under pressure.”
At that comment Brody turns his head and laughs. “This game just got a whole lot more interesting.”
I blow him a kiss before hollering, “Let’s do this, Von Bremen!”
Theo’s head snaps up and he stares me down. Then, very slowly, a smile spreads across his scruffy face. When the Rockies’ leadoff batter approaches, Theo flips his hat backward and licks two fingers. He rubs the ball his traditional six times before watching Brody’s signs. He shakes his head at the first two but then agrees to the last one, and throws a fastball.
Clark, the batter, a good guy and a friend, shakes off his strike and looks up in my direction. “Take it easy on me, Doc.”
I laugh off his comment because his on-base percentage is 430. He doesn’t need easy in the slightest. Theo rocks in two more strikes, sitting Clark down with a grin.
That’s my boy.
Two more batters approach the plate and retire to their dugout without a single base hit. It’s poetic to watch Theo whisper to that baseball. The control he exudes when commanding the ball is phenomenal. He’s an outstanding player. There’s a reason he has stayed with the same ball club his entire career.
Hayes and I get lost in the game. We cheer. We boo. We sing. We dance. We throw back a few more beers. My Von Bremen jersey sticks to my skin like bad spandex but I don’t want to take it off. I don’t believe in superstitions, but just in case, I’ll keep it on.
The game is scoreless at the top of the eighth inning as the battle of the pitchers ensues. Now, most fans think this type of game is boring. Pitch after pitch, no one getting on base, but for the diehards this is what dreams are made of. This is skill. This is pure perfection.
When Bellamy saunters out to the mound, I know Theo’s reign is almost up. O’Brien, Theo’s relief pitcher, is warming up in the bullpen ready to take Theo’s place on the mound. Theo has been damn near flawless and could probably finish out the game but we don’t want to burn out that arm. The human body isn’t meant to throw fastballs at one hundred miles per hour repetitively.
Bellamy speaks to Theo, who hides his mouth behind his glove to deter lipreading by the other team. Whatever is discussed—which I’m sure is: Good job. Finish up and then we’ll bring in O’Brien to close.—Theo doesn’t like it. But Theo and Bellamy hardly ever agree, so this isn’t surprising.
Theo allows a hit on a slider that stayed high but his defense easily takes care of it and ends the inning. The small Washington, D.C. crowd cheers as Theo makes his way into the dugout. He tips his hat, giving us all his trademark smile and a wave.
“Wow,” Hayes says, dazed. “It’s even more incredible to see it in person.”
I nod in agreement, never taking my eyes off my MVP who is getting ass slaps and high fives from his teammates. The fans are still screaming when he steps back out of the dugout to give an encore bow.
What a ham.
He smiles and gives one more wave before making his way down the steps.
And then, a flash of white catches my eye as Von Bremen hurls himself over the top of the dugout. Bellamy reaches for his legs, yelling for him to get back down, but he’s already over to the topside of the dugout.
Holy shit.
I jump to my feet. “Thor!” But he is already on it.
“Stay here,” he barks. “You understand?”
What the hell? Do I understand? Hell yes, I speak English, douche.
Thor dismisses my “eat shit” look and sternly orders Hayes to watch me like I’m a clepto loose in an outlet mall.
Unbelievable.
Thor bounds off to intercept Theo the dumbass, who is rushed in the stands by hundreds of fans. He takes it in stride, signing everything he can while parting the crowd, headed toward me.
Thor is not being so considerate. He shoves anyone and everyone in his wake, even pushing a child to the ground. Shameless. He is a man on a mission.
He gets to Theo in record time, grabbing him by the arm. Theo doesn’t fight his hold. Instead, he allows Thor to pull him through the crowd, all the while signing with his free hand. Dozens of security guys swarm the area, creating a protective circle around Theo and Thor. Meanwhile, Bellamy is on the phone in the dugout, screaming. I cringe, knowing what waits for me when we leave. Bellamy is going to tear us a new asshole.
Thor guides Theo over to our seats. The boyish grin on his face makes me forget that I want to yell at him for his little stunt.
“How’d I do, beautiful?”
