baseman who didn’t talk to anyone. You’re turning into quite the leader.”
He grunted. “My agent says I should be a more vocal teammate around the cameras. It raises my value in free agency.”
“I don’t know,” I said skeptically. “I think you’re getting pretty excited about playing baseball in October.”
Darryl grumbled something about needing to get some sleep, then closed his eyes for the rest of the flight. But I was pretty sure he was just trying to avoid the fact that he was becoming a leader in the dugout.
We got back home at two in the morning and shuffled off the plane. Waiting for us at baggage claim was a face I didn’t expect to see.
“Rafa!” I shouted. I rushed up to him but stopped myself from jumping into his arms in front of the other players. “I thought you weren’t coming back from Alabama until tomorrow!”
“I got back tonight. Wanted to meet you guys at the airport.” He high-fived the other teammates—with his left hand—and smiled at everyone. “I have to say, everyone: I’m a little butt-hurt you didn’t need my help beating the Yankees. Congratulations.”
“When do you get your results from Doctor Andrews?” I asked.
“I already got them.”
I searched his face for any hint of an answer. He was totally stone-faced. I took that to mean the worst.
But then he said, “Doctor Andrews is not recommending I undergo Tommy John surgery at this time.”
I let out an excited yelp at the news. His teammates patted him on the back as our luggage trickled out of the baggage carousel.
“What’s the next step?” I asked.
Rafael shrugged one shoulder. His left shoulder. “We’re in wait-and-see mode. We’ll give my elbow some time to heal and reevaluate from there.”
Even though it was good news, I read between the lines of what he was saying. He wouldn’t be able to pitch in the playoffs.
But for now we were all happy that he didn’t need surgery, and it was good to see him smile as we drove back to Darryl’s house in Las Colinas.
34
Natalie
Beating the Yankees in four games meant we got an extra rest day while waiting for the other teams around the league to finish their playoff games. In the National League, the Dodgers beat the Braves to advance to the NLCS—National League Championship Series—against the Cubs. A small part of me was sad about that. If the Dodgers had been eliminated, then Joel’s season would have been over and he could come home for the rest of the playoffs. But I didn’t say that out loud, and overall I was happy for the elite closer.
Joel called us after the win and excitedly talked about how the atmosphere of pitching in a playoff game was so much more intense than in the regular season. Joel joked around with Rafael about his arm, and insisted he was faking the injury so he could make a dramatic entrance in the ALCS. That managed to put a smile on Rafael’s face.
It was also a reminder of how much we missed Joel. Facetiming with him on the phone was well and good, but it wasn’t the same as sharing some beers around the pool and joking about which opposing hitter they feared the most.
The Indians won their game against the Red Sox, and since they had a better record than us they had home-field advantage, requiring us to fly to Cleveland for the start of the series. The ALCS was a best-of-seven series. Two games in Cleveland, three in Texas, then the final two games (if necessary) in Cleveland. Rafael was with us, even though his arm was injured. That at least provided moral support for the team, rather than him being totally absent like for the Yankees series.
Stepping off the plane in Cleveland reminded us that we were spoiled with our mild Texas winters. Cleveland was freaking cold. My weather app claimed it was only forty-two, but there was a biting wind in the air that made it feel twenty degrees colder.
The Indians were a fearsome team led by an elite pitching corp. They essentially had three aces on their team, and the best bullpen in baseball. Scoring runs against them would prove to be a challenge.
Progressive Field was a beautiful ballpark built in the nineties, located just a few blocks from downtown Cleveland and Lake Eerie. There was a massive television screen above the left-field bleachers, with the downtown skyline in the background. Tonight was overcast and the lights of the city reflected off