Water poured out of the faucet and went straight down the drain. A hand quickly shut the water off and the noise ceased. Two hands gripped the sides of the sink and a face looked up at the mirror. Chance Colt stared at his own brown eyes before his vision fluttered around the rest of his reflection. His brown eyebrows were flat above his eyes and eye black was painted on in a straight line beneath his eyes. His blond hair was fringed up to left. He pulled one of his hands away from the sink and ran his fingers out to smooth down the hair. Then he pushed himself away from the sink.
A red hat with the Redbird logo was sitting on a wooden bench. The bench was in the center of the room in front of the sinks. Chance snatched the hat up and placed it on his head. He took a deep breath before he pushed open the door and walked out into the locker room. His jersey hung in his locker with the number 24 in large print on the back below his last name. His uniform pants and cleats were already on. He grabbed his jersey off the hanger and started pulling it on over his undershirt.
"You know they're already doing warm ups out there, right?"
Chance looked over to see one of the relief pitchers standing at his own locker. It was the closer, Jayden Patterson. He was in his full uniform and was cleaning the lenses on his sunglasses. He glanced over to meet Chance's eyes.
"I figured as much," Chance said.
"You know you're starting today, right?" Jayden asked after he looked down to inspect his work on the sunglasses. He held them up to the light coming from above.
"I saw the roster," Chance said with a nod. He looked down and started buttoning up his jersey.
"Alright," Jayden said. He placed his sunglasses on the top of his cap. "I just didn't want you to be late."
"Aren't you late?" Chance asked.
"Well, they don't need me until the ninth inning," Jayden said. "Pretty sure they need you in the first. Good luck today."
"Thanks," Chance grumbled as he turned back towards his locker. He finished the top buttons of his jersey as he heard Jayden walking out of the locker room behind him.
Chance felt all the pressure of what walking out onto that field meant that day. He was very aware that it would probably be his final time in the starting lineup. He knew it didn't mean the end of his baseball career, but he wasn't sure he could be happy sitting the bench everyday and only coming in the game for a pinch hit. He wanted more than that and after he worked his ass off all year for it only to lose it, he wasn't sure what to do. He only knew that he had to play the game that day.
He let out a sigh before he headed upstairs to the dugout. The afternoon sun was high in the sky and it beat down on the field. Chance turned his back to it to find his glove off the shelf with his number on it. He flinched when he felt a pat on his shoulder.
"You were supposed to be on the field for warm ups ten minutes ago," Coach Comer said.
Chance turned his head to look at the Redbird's manager. Coach Comer had been one of the greatest outfields to ever play for the St. Louis Redbirds, but he might have been an even better coach. He had already led the team to one championship and they were leading the division already in July. He was always calm and collected, but Chance knew he had been pressing his patients.
"I know," Chance said. He quickly adverted the bright blue eyes that were set on him. "I'm going now."
"Colt, you're a good ballplayer whether you are in the lineup or not," Coach Comer said. "And when you aren't in the lineup, you're still apart of this team. You need to start acting like it."
"I'm sorry, Coach," Chance said.
"Do your warm ups," Coach said before he stepped away. He took up post at the front of the dugout and put his hands in his pockets. He eyes set on the field.
Chance looked down at his glove before he hurried out onto the field. The players were tossing baseballs back and forth. Chance tugged his glove on his left hand as he moved to stand beside one of his teammates.
"Everything alright, Colt?"
Chance looked over to see Patrick Gillies, the kid who took his job.
"I'm fine," Chance said.
"If you say so," Patrick said with a shrug. He pulled a baseball out of his glove and held it out.
Chance took the ball and tossed it in his palm. He stepped back and brought his arm back before he fired the ball across the field to another team member. Chance watched as the baseball fell into a glove and then it was sent back to him. He raised his glove an inch and caught the ball. He pulled it out of his glove and held it back out to Patrick.
"I thought there were no hard feelings between us," Patrick said. He rubbed his thumb against the stitching of the baseball as he looked down at it. He picked his head up to look across the field before making his throw. Then he looked over at Chance.
"You know not everything is about you," Chance said.
"Whatever man," Patrick said. He caught the baseball and passed it back to Chance.
Chance shook his head as Patrick walked back towards the dugout. Chance tossed the ball in his hand before he threw across the field again. He threw it back and forth with his other teammate and then started doing his stretches. He was one of the only guys left out on the field doing warm ups. He looked over at his other teammates signing autographs at the third baseline to the few Redbirds fans that were in Chicago.
The crowd started erupting in cheers and Chance looked over to see the opposing team taking to the field. He got up and grabbed his glove off the turf and jogged back to the dugout. He threw his glove back on the shelf and found a spot to sit on the bench.
"Gillies, you're up and Tarver is on deck!"
Chance looked over at the two guys that were pulling on their batting gloves. Patrick was first out of the dugout with his bat. He started taking swings near the on-deck circle. Bode Tarver was out soon after him and in the circle taking his own practice swings.
"You're hitting eighth today, Colt."
Chance looked over at the batting coach who was standing in the middle of the dugout with a clipboard. Coach O'Conner was a big red-headed man who always remained serious. It was his first year as the hitting coach and none of his advice seemed to be working for Chance. He was in one of the worst slumps of his career.
"Got it," Chance said.
"Your swings were nice in BP," Coach O'Conner said. "Keep that going and you'll get the connection. Just put the ball in play. That's all I can ask."
"I'll try," Chance said.
"You'll do," Coach O'Conner corrected.
"I'll put the ball in play," Chance said.
"That's more like it," O'Conner said. He gave Chance a nod before he walked to the front of the dugout to watch Patrick bat.
The top of the first ended up bringing a lot of excitement on the Redbirds side. Patrick was on second base after a hit dropped in the outfield. Bode moved him to third on a bouncer to the center fielder. The next batter was walked to load the bases. There were some more hits and two runs scored. Chance ended up in the on-deck circle while there was one out on the board. He squared up his shoulders and took a few swings. He looked over at the batter as he took a strike. Chance sat his bat down and leaned it against the short wall. He readjusted his batting gloves. He watched as the batter sent a pop fly into the right field. It was an easy out but the man on third base scored.
Chance took a sharp breath in as he headed towards the plate. He high-fived his teammate that just scored on his way. He stepped into the batter's box and looked down at his grip on the bat. Then he moved the bat back and squared up. His eyes set on the pitcher who was standing still on the mound. Chance tried his best to tune out the loud crowd and kept his sights on ahead. The pitcher started his wind up and the ball was thrown fast at the plate. It landed in the catcher's mitt before Chance could even take a swing.
The crowd erupted in cheers. Chance tightened his grip on the bat and looked down at his cleats in the dirt. He steadied his feet and turned his attention to the mound. The baseball was in the pitcher's hands again. Chance's eyes darted around the field. There was a man on second taking several steps off the base to get a good lead. Chance's gaze snapped back to the pitcher. The windup was coming. The pitch was sailing through the air. Chance made a swing.
The thud of the ball falling into the catcher's mitt sounded in Chance's ears as he recovered from his miss. He quickly called for time and backed out of the batter's box. The crowd yelled boos at him. Chance looked up at the sky before he steadied his hands on the bat and took another practice swing. He was trying to clear his mind and he thought it was when he stepped back up to the plate. His mind was anything but clear though. There was pressure, fear, and anger all brewing in that mind of his. It was all so much that it took him a minute to realize what had happened when strike three was called. He was standing there still while the opposing team exited the field.
Chance knew then that it was going to be a long game.