The Game Changer The Final Score - By L.M. Trio Page 0,113
as her pudgy little hands tickle the baby.
“Olivia Maria DiAngelo, what did Grandmom tell you about running ahead?” My mom calls out from behind, sounding winded and trying her best to sound stern. “You’re too little to be running off by yourself.”
“Grandmom’s mad at me.” Olivia pouts, smushing her angelic face against mine.
I match her pouting face. “Yeah, I know. Grandmom always uses the middle name when she’s mad at us,” I say, looking up at my mom, smiling.
“I not a baby. Lukey and Mikey are babies. Daddy says I a big girl.”
“Yes, you are,” I say, kissing her tiny, little nose.
“Just like her father, always running,” my mom says, catching her breath and sitting beside me. She takes Olivia from my lap and squeezes her tightly. “What is Luke still doing out there?” she asks when she finally looks to the field.
“I know. JJ better get her butt out here. They kept him in.”
“Oh my God, Daddy and David must be going crazy. They’re down by the field,” my mom says.
It’s the top of the ninth, game six of the World Series. We’re up three games in the series and we have a chance to end it here, right now, or fly to San Francisco for game six. We have a 3-2 lead.
“They kept him in?” JJ asks breathlessly. We figured Luke would be pulled after the 8 when a two-run homer was hit.
I turn to see my sister-in-law looking as pretty as ever, although frazzled as she hurries to her seat with the baby attached to her hip. Poor girl, if we didn’t know she carried those babies for nine months in her stomach you would never know they were hers. They’re the spitting image of my brother all the way.
“What’d I miss?”
I fill her in as we watch the batter send one out to center field. Thankfully, it’s caught, leaving us with one more out to go. We cheer, and then hold our breath, anticipating the next out.
“You girls better get down to that field with those kids,” my mom advises.
We nod in agreement, realizing we are only one out away from being World Champions. We don’t want to leave just yet, though. The game can change very easily with two men on. The security guard knows us well and is standing by, ready to take us down to the field when and if the final out is called.
Luke is making us sweat it out. The current batter has a two-two count. Luke’s next pitch is wild and it bounces off the dirt. Mikey throws off his mask, chasing it down, prepared to throw a player out if he dares to risk the chance to steal. He’s known for his aggressiveness behind the plate and most players in the league are unwilling to take the risk on a normal day, let alone what’s at stake right now.
We’re all on edge as my husband calls a time out. He meets with Luke on the mound.
“What’s Uncle Mikey sayin’ to Daddy?” Olivia asks, tugging at my shirt.
JJ and I look at each other and nervously laugh. “Who knows?” JJ answers.
We watch the two of them on the field, their gloves covering their mouths as they speak. I can see a smile in Luke’s eyes and he’s trying to conceal it, so I can only imagine what is being said. I can guarantee, though, it probably doesn’t have anything to do with the next pitch. Mikey gives him a pat on the back with his glove and takes his place behind home plate.
Luke throws a fastball down the inside corner and the ump calls the third and final out of the game. Mikey throws off his mask and charges the plate as Luke and he jump into each other’s arms, soon followed by the rest of the team as they pile on top. Tears of joy pour from our eyes as we watch the celebration.
***
(Luke)
“We did it!” Mikey yells, jumping into my arms. The feeling is incredible and it’s almost as if I’m in a dream as the rest of our teammates pile on. As large amounts of people storm the field, we begin to break away from our pile as reporters pull at us, hoping for an interview. I’m handed a hat and t-shirt which I proudly put on as I’m being interviewed. I’m barely able to concentrate on what is being asked, but I try my best to answer. Everything at this point is a huge blur.