The sky was blue and clear overhead, with a skiff of clouds way to the west. The air was fresh, having been scrubbed by a brief windstorm off the ocean the day before. The temperature was seventy-three degrees with a slight wind partially blocked by the stadium walls.
The weather would not affect his pitching and Bill let himself enjoy the sunshine and the crowd, lifting his hat in salute as he circled the mound with a smile on his face.
The fans roared their approval. They loved the game of baseball. They were the Dodgers home crowd and supported their team with gusto and an occasional fight. There was magic in the air. Bill could feel the electricity and it brought a smile to his face, and goose bumps down the middle of his back. His hands were rock steady.
Megan and Natalie and Kai were in the stands, and all was right with the world. He had no pain and was throwing better than ever.
He looked around the diamond. The team was ready.
He looked toward the plate where Jake lifted his face mask to reveal a huge grin, then pulled it back into place. It was time and with his heart rate under control Bill took a deep breath, ready for his first pitch of the seventh and final game of the National League Championship Series.
Eric studied the television screen with a furrowed brow, like he had heard something outside, over the sound of the TV. He had his head cocked slightly to the left, and his eyes were also looking in that direction. He was wearing his Dodger’s cap, the jersey with Sullivan’s number on it, and was holding the autographed baseball he had been given in the hospital last year. Eric studied the baseball in his hand moving his head slightly to see it and the signatures from different angles.
“He’ll be okay,”
“What was that Eric,” asked his mother, Caroline as she studied the National Geographic in front of her. Bill, John, and Julio, as well as other Dodgers players they had met, had a lifetime friend and fan in her son. She smiled and turned another page of the magazine, since nothing was happening in the game yet.
“Bill and his daughter. They will be okay.”
David Hall looked over at Eric, puzzled. “Of course, they will. Okay here we go.”
The Cubs decided to have Chavez lead off, hoping to get an early hit or even a home run to dampen the Dodger’s spirit. Chavez stepped into the batter’s box and lifted his bat, pointing at the centerfield wall.
The Dodgers were instantly up, ready to sprint toward Bill, the Cubs players a second behind.
The commentators flinched. “Okay Folks, here we go again. Chavez just-”
Bill used his glove to point at the visitors’ dugout with a big grin. “You want to sit down now or after I strike you out?” he yelled.
Julio threw his head back, let out a loud laugh, then gave Bill a small bow.
“Good luck, Bill.”
“Same to you.”
Kai started laughing and gave a playful push on Natalie’s shoulder. “That’s your dad!”
Natalie smiled a bit, not completely comfortable with her father’s occasional oddball humor.
Megan smiled and ate some popcorn.
“Wow, Ken. I thought we were going to have a fist fight on our hands before this thing ever got started.”
“It did look that way, Jim. The dynamic between these two competitors is bizarre to say the least. They like to light each other up, that’s for sure. At least this time Sullivan gave Chavez a taste of his own medicine.”
The two commentators looked at each other like “what’s next?”
When the dugouts settled back down, Jake called for a high and inside fastball. Bill finished his windup, snapping his wrist forward at the end of the pitch, his stare never leaving the target, Jake’s mitt. Bill saw Julio’s swing, almost a blur as the ball skipped off the top of the bat and directly into Jake’s facemask.
Jake stumbled, flipped the facemask up and grabbed the ball, always the first priority before he rubbed his forehead. He flipped the ball out to Bill, giving him a quick head nod that he was alright.
“Sorry, Jake. I didn’t mean to do that,” said Julio.
“No worries.”
“He’s a bit faster.”
“That he is,” said Jake, as Julio stepped back into the batter’s box.
“Strike one.”
“Welcome back folks! This is the CBS Sports Network with Ken Hamilton and Jim Manning. Ken, this game is a battle. Sullivan is throwing as well as ever with pinpoint accuracy and fastball speeds of one hundred and five miles an hour. Now we are in top of the ninth and if the Cubs don’t get it done here the Dodgers win.”
“That’s right, Jim. Sullivan is just dominating. The Cubs tried to lead off with Chavez, attempting to chill Sullivan with an early homer but it didn’t work. He came in with a two base hit then Sullivan struck out the next three batters. In the fourth inning Chavez was able to drive in one run but the Dodgers outfield stopped him at second base and then Sullivan retired the next batter stranding Chavez again.”
“The Dodgers lead the Cubs three to one, Ken. Here in the 9th inning we have the same scenario as in the fourth, with a runner on second and Chavez at bat. If Sullivan and the Dodgers can dodge a Chavez home run, they are headed to the World Series.”
“Nice pun, Jim,” said Ken, shaking his head.
Chavez was just outside the batter’s box clenching the bat, twisting the wood roughly between his hands, staring out at Bill. The heat of the wood warmed his hands and he swung wickedly at the air then stepped up to the plate. Chavez was holding the bat high and loose making sure his left foot cleats were dug into place and when satisfied, planted the right. Taking a deep breath, he settled in for the next pitch as the crowd started in on him, the roar building.
Julio blocked them out easily wearing a tight little smile.
He’ll try high and inside. Let’s get after it.
“Oh my God! Oh my God! GO DAD!!” Natalie screamed hoarsely.
Megan and Kai glanced at Natalie, warm smiles spreading across their faces.
Megan’s pulse was rushing, caught up and swept with the crowd. “STRIKE IM OUT!”
Kai opened her red cooler, retrieved a water bottle from the ice packs and waited for what was going to happen.
Bill launched a blistering fastball high and inside. Chavez swung a smidge late and low, fouling the ball several feet over the umpire’s head.
“Strike two!” yelled the umpire, snapping his right hand smartly to the side.
Jake gave Bill a signal.
Bill, eye’s narrowed, he smiled thinly at Jake then nodded. Eyes hard, nostrils flared, Bill looked at Chavez. Jake adjusted into position, glove-up, target ready.
Bill threw the curve ball, which dropped beautifully just outside the strike zone.
“The count’s now two and one, Jim. Sullivan nods to Parsons. He’s got the call folks…and here we go. This could be the game right here!”