His face was red, and he looked like he might pass out as he grabbed a towel and walked to the sink to get it wet.
“I’m actually glad you’re here, Coach,” I said, looking at my best friend’s dad. “Can I talk to you?”
“Of course,” he said with a shrug.
The guys all gave me weird-ass looks. They had no idea what I was up to, and while it wasn’t odd that I wanted to talk to Jack Carter, my best friend’s dad, it was strange to do it here and now because he was the pitching coach, and … well, I wasn’t a pitcher.
I gave a nod toward the locker room exit before grabbing an extra drink I had and tossing it at Dayton. “Drink this before you die.”
“What’s up? Heard from Chance lately?” Coach Carter asked as we walked away from the group of guys, leaving them to whisper.
“I texted with him the other day. He seems really happy,” I said, and Jack’s face lit up.
He was one of the proudest and most supportive dads I’d ever met. I couldn’t imagine.
“He does, doesn’t he? I think it’s that girl of his.”
“I think it’s everything,” I said, hoping I didn’t sound jealous or envious even though I was a little of both.
“Yeah, you’re probably right,” Coach agreed as the bright lights hit us. We were back outside, clear of any prying ears. “So, what’d you want to talk about?” He stopped walking, his arms folding in front of his chest as he looked down at me.
I decided to dive right in. I needed to know what the reality was this season and how hard I needed to push myself and in what capacity. Did I even have a shot? “It’s about my future, Coach. As far as I know, there aren’t any scouts asking Coach Jackson about me. There doesn’t seem to be any interest, and I know that, usually, by now, if there were, I’d have some idea about it. Right?”
He pondered what I’d asked him, taking his time to formulate a response, and all it did was feed my nerves.
Was he wondering how to break the news to me that I didn’t have a future in professional baseball?
“Mac, all I can tell you is that some guys have scouts following them the second they get into college. Other guys don’t. Hell, most guys don’t. It isn’t a death sentence for you, so don’t give up. Just because it seems like you aren’t on anyone’s radar right now, it doesn’t mean that’s the truth. We don’t always know what the scouts are up to. Coach Jackson and I will make sure your name gets out there, but you have to do the work. You have to make a name for yourself.”
“I know.” I swallowed hard before continuing, “And I’ve been doing all the right things, but should I be doing more? What if everything I’m doing just isn’t enough?” I shifted my weight and started biting the back of my thumb. “You can tell me, Coach. I can take it. Just be honest.”
I squeezed my eyes closed and waited for him to say that I didn’t have what it took. I expected to hear it.
He clapped my back instead, forcing my eyes to open. “You’re quick on your feet. You have the speed and a good eye at the plate. But you don’t hit for power, and sometimes, that’s all the teams are looking for in a season, you know?”
I knew he was right. There were so many nuances that went into each professional team. It was a business after all, and they had specific things they needed that changed after each season.
“You’re a solid hitter, always getting on base and rarely striking out, which is impressive but not always enough. Look, Mac, I’m going to do my best to fight for you this season, but in the end, it’s not up to me. And every other coach out there is going to be pulling for his own guys too. If you want a different perspective on things, you can always talk to my brother. I know he’d be willing to answer any questions you might have, and he knows way more about what’s going on behind the scenes than I do.”
Jack’s brother, Dean Carter, was a sports agent—specifically, baseball. He was one of the best, and we all wanted to be repped by him. I knew that Dean was regularly in touch with the scouts and had firsthand