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It was Biz who announced the plan. Juice wanted Savannah. Flower didn’t care.
“Wait a sec. Where exactly is Loco Beach?” Mack asked with visible confusion.
Tom didn’t know either. “Uh… the coast?”
“What coast? I want to go to Vegas.” Obviously that was Mitch. No one corrected him.
Jamie ventured a guess. “Aren’t they going for a Hawaiian vibe?”
“More like a tropical smoothie vibe. The closest they’ve gone is Cali.” Tyler switched teams. “Can’t be a Clown. It’s not just Pennywise that’s scary. Regular clowns scare small children.”
Sid added, “And my boyfriend.”
Wyatt scanned the room. “Let’s be real. The Clowns don’t want any of us.”
“Isn’t Mat Wolf already a rodeo clown? If they have to take someone, the Clowns should take him from the Firefighters.” Look at the big brain on Brad.
“I’ll suggest it to Jesse. Like, right now.” And Ryan pulled out his phone. Turned out that Jesse approved; he figured it would be amusing during the show even if Mat ended up as the token player. Might have to convince the team’s partner though.
Oh sorry, you have no idea what’s going on yet, do you?
*
Well, it was fun while it lasted.
Something something taxes. Blah blah blah international travel. Bottom line, expanding the season to 60+ games was no longer workable for Rogers. Thus the Canadian Banana Ball team’s first season was also their last season. They never even got a name, what’s up with that?! Flower didn’t mind; Flower retired (future guest player, obviously). Biz started a Banana Ball podcast. And never talked about the Blue Jays at all (yeah right).
Everyone else was subject to a draft. Loco Beach Coconuts had “won” (were assigned) the first pick and went with Juice. Couldn’t blame them; catchers had proven one of the most difficult positions to recruit (seriously though, the smallest category for all-star voting; contrast against so many pitchers that fans could pick two). Second pick went to the Indianapolis Clowns and, as established, they ignored Canada and stole Mat. Jamie went to Texas; cowboy hat solidarity and/or familial connections might have been at play. Sid became a Firefighter. No surprise there; everyone knew the league would separate best batters Jamie and Sid as soon as the new plans were in place.
Things had played out primarily as expected up to that point. Then the Party Animals started to monkey around (which might actually be expected too, no?). Now, keeping in mind that the teams are all controlled by the same entity and the “draft” is just for entertainment purposes, they weren’t going to take most experienced player Ryan Kellogg given that the Bananas wanted him back.
“They’ll take Tom,” Biz predicted, leaning closer to his mic. “If you think the Animals don’t want another shirt-catching outfielder, you’re wrong.”
“Fish’s shimmy has them covered in that department.” Episode guest Hank further insisted that there were no significant gaps in the team’s batting or fielding. Which really only left…
Jesse declared, “The Party Animals are proud to select Tyler Seguin.”
Minds blown. Well, not Hank’s obviously. Smart man.
Yes, the odds of separation had been more favorable, but Jamie had never allowed himself to consider that Tyler wouldn’t be his teammate. Unfathomable. Incomprehensible. Jamie distinctly remembered never answering Jordie’s question in Frisco, and he supposed the only way to find out was to keep going. But perhaps the most world-rocking detail was that Tyler would now be on a team with Tanner Thomas. Jamie mentally braced himself for the longest season of all time ever.
*
Honestly, Jamie zoned out a bit during each non-Tailgater announcement. He still heaved a sigh of relief when their next choice was Wyatt. Jamie wanted everyone who was still available, but Wyatt had become like a little brother to him, so he was the best untaken option. They sat together in their new “denim” jerseys.
“Hey Jamie, sorry about Tyler. You know I would trade with him for you if I could.”
“Thanks man.” Jamie gazed across the way to where Tyler was sitting, quite dapper in the tux jersey he would rarely wear.
“I suppose it could be worse. We’ll play what, like ten to twelve times at least? Imagine if there were 32 teams! What if we only played twice a season?”
Jamie had yet to accept not playing with Tyler, much less the likelihood of only being in the same city around one weekend a month. He was used to their constant nearness, and was already missing it despite having been in the same stadium since the announcement. “Wyatt, I’m so glad you’re coming to Texas with me, but I really need you to talk about a different topic.”
“Yeah, sure.” Wyatt thought for a moment while adjusting Jamie’s hat. “Hey, you don’t think they’ll put me in the first base rotation, do you? Figured I’d have a chance at keeping second as long as the Bananas or the Animals didn’t take me…”
Wyatt did a decent job maintaining one-sided conversation as Tyler finally made eye contact with Jamie. Tyler beamed, tipping an imaginary cap in his direction. Jamie slightly shook his head just before losing Tyler’s attention when the Party Animals used their second pick for Brad.
*
What with all the draft drama, a couple of other new additions went mostly under the radar, second base and another pitcher. The recruitment process was calmer than the last one; these two had started in that nebulous time between the season’s ending and Toronto’s disbanding, moving quickly through the requirements. The collective coaching staff figured it would be easiest to keep them together, and since they’d both listed Sid as their character reference, to the Firefighters they went.
*
The BBCL had held the draft at Rogers, allowing the guys one last evening as a team before having to go their separate ways. An enclosed rooftop lounge, not CN high but still really nice views (and really, most views are nice when looking at Banana Ball players). They could have been cynical, but instead there was a positive, nostalgic ambiance.
Ryan wasn’t upset about going back to the Bananas, but had a pattern of going through catcher withdrawal. “Juice, you should come with me! You’ll fit in my luggage, right?”
“We are not going to learn,” he replied with his lips curled, taking a sip of the bar’s specialty drink. “Besides, I know how much you missed Bill.”
Ryan nodded in agreement. “Everyone loves Bill,” he added, like it was sage wisdom and not just an undeniable fact.
It quickly became a who-loves-Juice-more competition, Mack saying, “No Juice, you’re coming with me! Who would I pitch to without you?”
“The funny thing is, it’s believable that you’d question that.” Mitch started poking Mack’s arm.
In the ensuing poke battle, Ryan went back to the original conversation. “When I get to Savannah, want me to say anything to Jackson?”
“Um, hi?”
“Hey Jackson, good to see you again. Juice says ‘um, hi’ by the way.” Ryan released an exaggerated exhale. “Absolute poetry there.”
“Ooooh, it’s almost sunset!” Brad announced, rushing over to the building’s edge. Tyler was first to join him, pointing to something in the distance, beverage still in hand.
“Prefer the view from here, eh?” Sid nudged Jamie’s knee with his own while taking a seat next to him. On the couch furthest from the wall of glass. “I’m not sure how you ever fly.”
“I can’t say I know how either.” Jamie noted that most of his friends had lined up and were blocking the scenery. “I kinda want to go prevent them all from falling even though I know it’s impossible.”
“Okay, catcher in the rye.”
Jamie stared at Sid before pointing out, “I’m not a catcher.”
“Never mind. You should spend time with your boy while you can though. You’ll face away for a selfie anyway.” Sid stood and offered a hand to Jamie. After a moment, Jamie nodded and accepted the assist.
The golden clouds closest to the horizon could have been the handiwork of Bob Ross. There was enough dark blue growing in the upper atmosphere to reveal that the light would be gone soon. Resting his head on Tyler’s shoulder, Jamie also wrapped his arms around him, subtly pulling him back a bit.
“Hey babe, you’re just in time!” Tyler spun them around and quickly took a pic. Jamie kept directing them deeper into the room as Tyler posted, narrating the caption while writing it. “We’ll always have Toronto… hashtag OTBP…”
“Think the fans will still call us the One True Banana Pairing when we’re opponents?”
“Probably even more than ever.” Tyler stashed his phone and quickly kissed Jamie’s lips. “But even if we get replaced as the favorite, you’ll always be my favorite.”
*
In Savannah, the Party Animals welcomed their new teammates with (you guessed it) a party. Specifically a pink pool party. They had switched out the lightbulbs so the water appeared pink. Pink beachballs, flamingo floats, even the drinks were exclusively grapefruit or watermelon.
Brad and Andy Cosgrove were determining the exact angle and timing for a cannonball to splash whoever happened to be going down the slide. Once established, they launched themselves in unison while Riyan Rodriguez was sliding. The excessive amount of water exiting the pool (and entering beverages) meant that cannonballs were then strictly prohibited.
Bronson Balholm and Drew Gillespie were stalking each other around the palm tree island in the center, their super soakers prepared to attack. Bronny ducked under the water, watching as Drew plotted his next move. Which was to climb up onto the stone around the tree’s perimeter. Bronny pressed the nozzle to Drew’s foot with a “gotcha” to indicate the win without ever needing to shoot.
Tyler found Tanner lounging in the connected hot tub area. He looked really pretty.
“You’re like, really pretty.”
Tanner snickered and stuck with the script. “Thank you.”
“So you agree, you think you’re really pretty.”
No more script. “It’s not the first word I’d go with, but whatever floats your boat.”
Tyler settled in to stay for a while. “My boat had been floating superbly. The draft sank my ship.”
Tanner’s glass had a watermelon slice garnish, which he removed from the rim. He bit into it and offered up the go-to cliché of “Absence makes the heart grow fonder.” He gestured at Tyler with the leftover rind, and added the actual message: “Your relationship will be fine.”
*
Pre-season started with position assessment. Jamie was tempted to volunteer for first if it would help Wyatt secure second, but it never came to that. Wyatt had been perfectly fine previously, but during practice was stopping EVERY attempt to steal. Though he can’t do that alone, he did it no matter who made up the battery.
The Tailgaters kept Mikko in right. Anywhere in the outfield would have been good, just needed plenty of space for the diving catches that had become his specialty. If they tracked grass stains, Mikko would have the record, no doubt.
They did start off putting Jamie at center. He was still the best available player there. But something was missing.
“Jamie Benn, shake your ass in the next three seconds or you’re out of the 3-2-2!!”
Jamie was reassigned to left.
*
Brad stayed at third. It remained the optimal location for his particular set of skills.
Tyler still wasn’t the greatest batter, but had eventually gone from never hitting to hitting occasionally (thank you very much practice sessions with Jamie). Plus Tyler was excellent at not swinging when a sprint was on the table. His mental math told him that he wouldn’t be worst in the league at getting on base if rehearsal stats were a thing, though he was unsure his personal calculations were trustworthy. Must not have been too off though, because given that and the improved catching from the previous year, the Party Animals had a suggestion.
“We’ll keep you as designated runner most of the time. Jason Swan is our man at first. But if he’s ill, injured, out, whatever, you’re the reserve. Sound good?”
“Seriously? Sounds great!” Actually Tyler was ecstatic, but saved his enthusiasm to share with his teammates (especially Jason). Group hug!
*
It was never in question that Sid was going to play wherever he wanted (still shortstop) even though the Firefighters would clone him and put nine of him on the field if they could. The team also trusted his recommendations re: the latest recruits. Well, playing recommendations anyway; Nate and Cale had yet to commit the “Hey Baby” dance to muscle memory.
Sid groaned yet again. “It’s only like four moves. How are you two not getting it?”
Cale emphatically noted, “I don’t go to the gym to get my groove on.”
Nate backed him up with a “ditto.”
“Plus it’s an exceptionally annoying song.”
“No, I will not be your girl, thanks for asking.”
“But hey baby, you would make a pretty fine girl.”
Nate gave one of those rare authentic smiles. “Aw, thanks baby! Same to you.”
Sid interrupted their back and forth: “If you both get it right next time, we can try that thing you two have been requesting in the bedroom.”
They got it right the next time.
*
“Hi Tyler.”
“Hey babe, why did Wyatt text me telling me to call you with my literal voice like something terrible had happened? I mean yeah you just picked up but while it was ringing I’m like panicking that there’s an emergency. I’m all oh no, Jamie got a bat to the face, Jamie was struck by lightning, Jamie straight up quit the team, Jamie w–”
“No emergency. Not a cloud in the sky.”
“Well good. That’s good. Not all good though. Tell me what’s wrong.”
“It’s really nothing.” Jamie was pulling at a stray thread on his sleeve. “They’ve just moved me to left. Not even worth mentioning.”
“Why would they do that? Did something happen to Zach Watson?”
“No, they just swapped us.” Jamie chose not to acknowledge the first question. “Anyway, how was your day?”
“Nope, we’re not done. Don’t make me make Wyatt snitch on you.” Jamie stayed silent. “If I hang up then I’m immediately calling him with my literal voice. And you know how much Gen Z hates that.”
“Yeah… I wasn’t dancing.”
“You weren’t dancing.”
“I wasn’t dancing.”
Tyler pinched the bridge of his nose. He took a beat before stating the obvious. “Jamie. It’s your job. You know you have to dance.”
“Of course I will once the fans are there.” Almost whispering, Jamie suggested, “But until then, maybe they could send you to be my designated dancer.”
It was almost funny. It was incredibly close to being funny. It broke Tyler’s heart.
*
After the call, Tyler realized he had been too anxious about Jamie to inform Jamie about potentially being an infielder.
*
Not technically opening day, but it was the first time that year the Coconuts were facing the Bananas. Juice pretended it was just another game, but that would never be the case for those two teams. “Battle of the Fruits” was how the league started branding it. Juice strangely doubled; he’d done it against every other team but never the Bananas (and you know who plays second, right?). Stealing wasn’t exactly his style, nor did the score dictate it, but Juice edged away from the base and prepared his stance nonetheless.
Juice was getting ahead of himself though; Tom had a brief walk-up. He and four teammates held kittens and danced to the “Meow Mix” boy band version. Despite being only half a minute, there was still some squirming. It was adorable.
Maybe it was karma; after all Juice did it all the time. Then again, their constant escalation was always leading to something. Whatever the cause, suddenly Jackson Olson was crawling between his legs. He tilted his head up and said, “Hello.”
Juice gave his signature smile to Jackson’s inverted face. “Hi.”
“Yeah, Ryan already passed along that message. You’re gonna have to do better than that.”
*
Okay, it’s well known that Banana Ball was specifically designed to avoid the boredom of baseball. Yet on occasion the game itself can be exciting enough even without all the bells (RING THE BELL!!!) and whistles. For example: the three-game series between the Firefighters and the Tailgaters. Both Sid and Jamie had multiple homers. Both Sid and Jamie were active in getting the other out. There were steals. There were dives. And, well, there was Banana Ball too.
The Firefighters put Cale in toward the middle of the second game. And since it was his debut, they arranged for, not exactly a walk-up, but rather a group trick pitch. In the background Ron Franklin Jr. pretended to participate (later shrugging when no one hopped over him). Sid and Nate joined at the mound as Cale crouched along the back. Sid leapfrogged over him, Nate leapfrogged over Cale then Sid in sequence, and Cale leapfrogged twice and to the front. One more jump and Cale threw the ball from midair, which magically counted as a strike. Good times.
*
Brad was recording a vlog at the stadium of the week. This time featuring the food services area, the setup had him lining large bowls with Nilla Wafers to be filled later with banana pudding. Somehow Brad’s videos always ended up with a Tyler cameo. It was like Brad intentionally planned his shots just so Tyler would walk into them (scratch the “It was like”).
“Oh hey, there’s Tyler, imagine that. Say hi to the camera Tyler.”
“Hi camera!” Tyler delivered the line in their usual flamboyant style.
“If you don’t know Tyler yet because you weren’t subscribed last season, he’s the new designated runner for the Party Animals. For now. You never know wh–”
Tyler cut Brad off with a quick “NO SPOILERS!”
“Right, and no jinxing. He’s our designated runner and nothing else.”
Brad tossed a cookie that Tyler caught in his mouth. When Jake Lialios entered the shot, Jamie paused the video and scrubbed the remainder to see if anything else was worth his attention. Decent trick play practice toward the end (yes, a ball was caught in a bowl of banana pudding), but otherwise no need to watch. Jamie knows the difference between needs and wants. He wanted to watch Tyler again and returned to his entrance. Sunglasses on, shirt off, charm activated. Lather, rinse, repeat.
*
The Coconuts did play at Las Vegas Ballpark. Mitch discovered the city wasn’t on a coast. He enjoyed an artificial beach anyway, though he still missed working from home.
*
As the Banana Ball universe kept expanding, the league kept having to recruit fresh players from somewhere. For some reason, Northern Europe seemed to be that most common somewhere. Everyone needed more catchers, and the recruiters found another in Swede Filip Gustavsson. One could argue that despite being new to the sport, Gus was already the best catcher in the league at batting (get it?).
Case in point: bases loaded and needing only one run for the inning’s point, Gus had a 3-0 count. Maybe because the pitch was clearly a strike, Gus couldn’t hold back; the bat hit the ball right over the plate, the trajectory perfectly bisecting the park toward center.
Tyler kept his eye on the ball while leaning on the dugout rail. It was going to require a play at the wall, but Tyler knew Jamie would be able to catch it. Except Jamie wasn’t there. Jamie wasn’t in left field either; he wasn’t even at the game. It was all wrong; he should always be with Tyler. Reece Hampton was in center. Gus got a grand slam.
After the successful walk-up in the previous season, the Party Animals had added “Everything is AWESOME!!!” to the regular playlist. Much like the mandatory gesturing and yelling during certain tracks, all players not playing were expected to jump to the beat. The song had been in the rotation long enough that much of the audience knew to jump too.
Tyler wasn’t jumping. Most games had consistent diversions to keep him from thinking about Jamie being gone. But missing him in such a precise manner was still weighing on his mind. Suddenly an arm was wrapped around his back, forcing him to jump along side-by-side. It was Tanner, who gave Tyler a look that said, I get it, I can help you. At least that’s how Tyler interpreted it. It was probably just his face.
*
Nate and Cale were fully capable of dancing. They were fine during a pre-game, a walk-off, a homer celly, a win, so on and so forth. But inventing trick pitches that didn’t involve dancing became a bit of a subgame for them.
“Wait, so if someone hits it, does that go in the dead ball category or what?”
“What if it’s hit but not destroyed?” Yeah, that was Nate.
“Um…” Cale considered if there was a way to call him an idiot without calling him an idiot. “How about we just do it and figure out the rules later?”
“Best plan ever.”
Cale carried the tub of water balloons to the mound. Nate had his bat in front of the portable batting cage (no catcher volunteered to help test).
“Nate, back up. The diameter is similar to a ball, but I have no idea where this thing is going given the differences in weight, density, and air resistance. Plus the center of gravity is constantly in flux.”
“Speak English!”
“You’ve been warned so it’s not my fault if I hit you!”
Cale didn’t hit him. The first water balloon caught the wind and hit the side net, loose enough that the orb rolled to the ground undamaged. Unphased, Cale took a few steps over and threw the next. The adjustment centered the ball over home, but too far over; it directly hit the bar with a splat. Nate was looking unimpressed. Cale grabbed another and pitched it underhanded, resulting in another splat but situated on the plate.
“Okay, step up now. But your feet will likely be soaked if you don’t hit it.”
“Oh Cale, you know I’ll hit it.”
Cale stuck out his tongue and lobbed another balloon underhanded from the same place. And yes, Nate hit it. There was a splash on the bat. It was very anticlimactic.
“That’s it?”
“Seems that way. Want me to throw two at once?”
“No, I’ve got another idea.”
*
Déjà vu: RAC would be out for the rest of the season. Yes, the Bananas had plenty of players and could simply shift positions as needed. However, they could still do that while implementing their most recent crazy scheme: live auditions. Now these weren’t going to be just any folks sitting in the stands; catching a foul wouldn’t be enough to qualify. Instead, one of the guys (or one of the very few gals) who’d made it to the final tryout process but hadn’t been quite contract-ready yet would be planted within the crowd and called on to join the team for the day.
They had already featured two more Ryans, a Jake (or a Jacob? Both and someone lost track?), and two different guys with the same first and last name. It was confusing. But the audiences were still enjoying the introductions to the unknowns, so when the Bananas were close to Jersey, they invited those brothers with the older brother who’d taken his chance in Canada. The youngest declined (still fishing for the majors).
And that’s how Jack Hughes stepped onto the field. Left, to be specific; not his first choice, but it fit the whole finding a fill-in for RAC narrative. Looked like he wouldn’t get an opportunity to demonstrate there though, as everything going his direction was going foul. But he got a ball four sprint and went to second without hesitation, stole third, and maneuvered the top of the order to be able to bring him home. Later he arrived at second once more on a ground rule double, effectively doubling the OBP of the prior most successful candidate.
RAC was hanging out with Split, sitting on the near-dugout grass. He motioned to Jack in the ninth, telling him to pick a future game to attend. “No catching, no throwing, it’s incomplete you know. So you are now the first two-day trial. Congrats.”
“Thanks. Any tips?”
“They like you.” RAC twisted his head in a gesture to the surrounding seats. Split nodded in agreement. “Keep them liking you.”
*
The Tailgaters were headlining in Texas, the closest approximation to “home” they could get; not new information, but it was the first time Jamie was experiencing it as a Tailgater himself. Didn’t feel like home to Jamie though. His brother being in the state wasn’t enough. Toronto also wasn’t home. Canada as a concept? No, that’s weird. Perhaps home was just the room his suitcase was in at the time.
Jordie did drive down to San Antonio on a Friday afternoon though, and arrived with an abundance of Buc-ee’s snacks. The team was already at the stadium and starving.
“Yes, I love Beaver Nuggets!”
“Really? Give me the jerky.”
And while on his unicycle, Sunshine Luders was managing to play keep away so Wyatt couldn’t take the taffy. With everyone else hypnotized by food, Jordie was able to sneak Jamie off the field and into the empty dugout. The seclusion was preferable when his little bro was clearly in need of a hug.
“Tell me all about it,” Jordie prompted.
“I think I might be homesick. Never had homesickness as a kid so I don’t know if that’s what it is.”
“Well, what is it you want?”
Jamie knew, but wasn’t quite sure how to phrase it best. He eventually responded only with “Who.”
*
Rule #8: if a fan catches a foul ball, it’s an out. The official phrasing, but most games have had commentators point out the “clean” caveat. Some Savannah fans were not fans of that detail. And wanted to test the definition of a clean catch.
Dan Oberst, aka Danny Barrels, was their favorite target. Or perhaps he just connected more (hence the nickname) and thus fouled more and thus fouled out more. Whatever it was, Dan had introduced the ball to his bat as per usual, and it was going to the picnic area. Those tables allowed for stashing of props and stepping up higher. A fan took said position while holding a large, blatantly homemade container of a clear gel. The ball landed in it, well, cleanly.
“That has to be a clean catch, right? I mean, it says Purell right there!”
*
During the next practice, Cale and Nate returned to the freezer they had “borrowed” for, you know, science. Nate grabbed the balloon by the knot, now awkwardly shaped despite having sat it in the most appropriately sized bowl they could find.
“Don’t get frostbite when you throw it.”
Cale reminded him that gloves exist. Tapping the balloon and finding it solid, he said at once, “We can’t use this. The shards would be a serious hazard. It might break a catcher’s hand before it got to that point. If it hit someone’s head, instant concussion.”
“That’s okay. I’ve got another idea.”
*
Since arriving at the stadium that afternoon, Brad knew his energy level was too low. Wasn’t going to stop him from playing though; the whole group was so distinctly skilled at being “on” that they could easily disguise one guy being below the standard. Plus Brad had been batting later in the lineup since joining the Party Animals (dudes are stacked yo); useful in stepping up to the plate potentially one less time than in the past.
So it wasn’t the whole team doing the “Red Light Green Light” routine, no big deal. So Brad had a couple of strikeouts, slight deal but not a big one. So the biggest deal was that Brad shockingly wasn’t opposed to another to end the inning. His unwillingness to swing earned him a B4S though; Brad treated it like a walk and only aimed for first. Tyler tapped in to run instantly. He waited until he had Jamie’s attention (didn’t have to wait long) to blow him a kiss. Jamie caught it. Kinda his job, but if asked business or pleasure, he would have had to say both.
Coach Vava entered the batter’s box. He’d earned a full count, and then Joe Sperone sent a ball which was quite destined to hit him. Vava turned for the projectile to collide with the back of his shoulder; no collision is safe, but the move did decrease the risk. He did the limping to first gag, leaping with gusto onto the bag at the end.
Still two outs. Reece Hampton was up as the top of the order returned. His plan was the ploy of avoiding an initial swing; it worked in his favor when the second pitch resulted in a grounder between Jorden Hussein and Travis Moniot. Travis came extremely close to grabbing the ball, but it had enough speed to continue just beyond the reach of his glove. Thus the fielding responsibility fell to Jamie as the sphere entered his territory.
Given the typical lead from his base, Tyler was already rounding the corner before Jamie was within arm’s reach of the shallow hit. Flailing from the third base coach confirmed that nothing had changed and powering through was still the best route. After zooming forward and scooping up the ball from the grass, naturally Jamie was aware and ignored throwing to third in lieu of sending a rocket directly to Taylor Justus. Likewise, though his boyfriend was behind him, Tyler also knew Jamie’s best move. He initiated a slide just as he spotted the flash of yellow entering his field of vision.
The flat trajectory ensured a perfect landing in the catcher’s mitt as dust collected in the air. Tyler could see it headed to his leg, mere inches from home at that point. With a slight lift, he rotated his thigh away from the tag, which did in fact land just as Tyler was crossing the plate. Still horizontal on the dirt, he couldn’t see the ump’s gesture but distinctly heard the succinct “OUT!” It was challenged, but the evidence supported the Tailgaters: the evasive method of avoiding contact resulted in delayed contact with home. The inning was over.
*
“I really hated getting you out.”
“I’d have been disappointed if you avoided getting me out.”
*
The medical staff ran tests on Brad for the usual illness suspects but found nothing. Strangely he was back to normal the following day; quite mysterious. The next time he accessed his chosen coffee shop app, the most recent listing for his order history revealed that he had accidentally chosen decaf. Mystery solved.
*
After lunch, Jackson had collapsed facedown onto one of the couches in the player lounge. He heard a variety of people passing through but wasn’t going to move unless a voice said his name. Paradoxically, Jackson needed to be sufficiently aware to avoid being pranked. His plan to remain stationary was foiled though when the room became too quiet and a hand grabbed his own.
Said hand belonged to Juice. Jackson watched as he slipped a blue and white friendship bracelet from his own wrist onto Jackson’s wrist. And then kissed the tips of his fingers.
Juice asked, “Is that better?”
“Yeah, but now the standards are higher.” Jackson coyly grinned and gestured his head toward the hand which was making no effort to escape. “You’ll have to do even better next time.”
“No, it’s your turn now.”
*
At their shared hotel, Tyler had already swapped key cards with Mikko, implementing the plan of rooming with Jamie and Noah Fisher respectively. The evening before the latest series for their teams, Tyler was pretending to watch whatever was on The Ocho while using Jamie’s thigh as a pillow. The intimacy was nice. The programming wasn’t.
“You could do that,” Jamie claimed as a climber faltered in taking two steps at a time. His fingers provided just the right amount of friction while weaving between strands of Tyler’s hair, so he merely hummed in response. They hadn’t been a particularly domestic couple since the season started, but Tyler was a full supporter of a domesticity comeback if that counted as an example.
Back from commercial, the slippery stairs were becoming more slippery. Slipperier. Whatever.
“You and Tanner are cute here.” Jamie held his phone in front of Tyler’s face, which displayed a shot of Tanner making him jump at the Gus grand slam game.
“Have you been saving that comment this whole time?”
“Just glad he’s keeping you busy.”
Tyler scoffed. “You cannot seriously be jealous.”
“It was during our song. I think I’m entitled to a little jealousy,” Jamie explained as he put down the device.
“Tanner is married to baseball. Besides, at this point you should know how much you being taller really does it for me.” The shift into flirting didn’t bring about a reaction. As another contestant fell down and took out a competitor, Tyler couldn’t take it anymore. “Why is this even a thing? And why is it on our TV?”
“Nanners are airing next.”
Tyler sat up and gave Jamie an exasperated expression. “You mean a game we can watch anytime we want on YouTube?”
Jamie got the message and pressed the remote’s power button. “Sorry I wasn’t satisfying your need for attention.”
“Maybe it’s not about that.” Tyler reached his hand to Jamie’s neck, but hesitated just before touching. “Maybe I need permission to give you mine.”
“Permission granted.”
*
Another Firefighters game, another trick pitch (unrelated to the ongoing frozen shenanigans). And as usual, Sid and Nate were involved. When they crouched on the mound, regular viewers might have suspected leapfrog would be making a return appearance, except this time they were beside each other. Cale was behind them again, and scrambled to complete the small human pyramid, perching on top in short order. His knees dug into their backs with the windup as he threw the ball, but they didn’t mind. Strike one.
*
Jack’s second game. The team did give him the flexibility to take first instead of left, though it seemed unlikely that two full games would go without fielding opportunities at the same position. Wouldn’t find out for a while though; it was still rehearsal time.
Clearly they weren’t giving Jack a walk-up at this point, but Eric Jones needed background dancers for his. The choreography wasn’t exactly flossing, but equally easy. Jack’s performance met with EJ’s approval, and he then memorized some additional moves in case the team was in need of a homer celly. Given RAC’s advice, both seemed more important than what he could do with his glove. And then it was pre-show and the show. Back to work.
Second inning, two outs, Mitch at bat. He had already sent out three fouls, but so far the fans hadn’t come to play. Danny Hosley shook his head a couple of times before agreeing to the finger signals. Windup, pitch, finally a hit staying within the lines. And it was going left (you saw that coming). A fly that should have been an easy capture, provided Jack could reach it. He was fairly sure he could, but was having to hustle. Already running to the side, why not go for a cartwheel catch? A skill still rare in Banana Ball even with all the trick play emphasis…
Jack nailed the landing and ended the inning. The crowd adored it. The broadcast replayed it constantly: not only right away, but also during every return from commercial for the rest of the program. Biko and Josh announced that Jack was the showman of the game despite the graphics department not having his headshot yet. Instead they spontaneously one-upped each other, praising his hair upside down in slow motion.
Biko: “It’s like a long-haired cat sitting in the sun.”
Josh: “Looks as warm as a towel out of the dryer.”
Biko: “Silkier than the concession stand’s banana pudding.”
Josh: “Bet his parents are alpacas.”
Biko: “It’s like he’s an angel, but the halo is made of hair.”
Josh: “Okay, you win this time.”
The Bananas would have to sign him, right? Yeah, the Bananas signed him. They already had the best-coifed team in the league (what’s the conditioner bill for Kelsie and Stilts?), but adding Jack still upped their flow.
*
“One, two, three. START THE GRILL!!!”
Yeah, the Texas Tailgaters were the “home” team, and no doubt they were going to need that advantage when facing the Party Animals. For some reason, the hot dog costumes never seemed to help. Jamie hit a chopper with a weird bounce in the first, and a delayed throw from Chase Achuff caused Jason Swan to tag him just as his shoe touched the bag. Umpire Ninja called him out, but the Tailgaters thought it was worth challenging.
“What do you think man?”
Jason lifted his shoulders. “No clue. What about you?”
“I think neither the frame rate nor the number of pixels are high enough for evidence to overturn.” And as predicted, within sixty seconds the announcement proved Jamie correct.
“After further review, the call on the field stands!” So their challenge was already gone. Sure, the possibility of a fan challenge hadn’t left the metaphorical table, but still.
Tyler had never been a big user of eyeblack, but had apparently obtained eyeblack in green (let’s call it “skyline” green haha). He had matched his “number” with a star on each cheek. Very bright. Very fitting.
Who was pitching? Jamie wasn’t aware (can’t blame him, they change absurdly often). He was just watching Tyler preparing to steal third instead. Watching Tyler was a typical Jamie activity, but those ninety feet of the diamond just happened to be his best angle for seeing him. Tyler was still accelerating when a pitch hit Jason on his lower arm. He fell, Garett Delano gave him CPR, and he popped up and took his base. Tyler returned to second, and Bryson Bloomer’s following out meant he didn’t make it to third that inning.
Fortunately there was a mid-inning promo, because once inspected in the dugout, it was clear that Jason was in bad shape. Slight swelling was already visible, and medical expected it to keep increasing. The area hurt when touched and the arm hurt when Jason rotated it. Fans were still playing the latest variant of musical chairs on the field; Tyler rushed to find his jersey and a mitt.
As Tyler made his official fielding debut, the crowd was still cheering for the musical chairs winner. He was torn between wanting to avoid all play and wanting to catch for three outs in a row. Strikeout. Fly out. And then Nick Lopez hit a grounder to Dustin Baber; with no trick play available, he threw the ball directly to Tyler. Plenty of time. Perfect execution. It landed in the pocket without Tyler moving his foot at all. He hustled back to the dugout, where Brad slapped his butt and Tanner gave him a fist bump.
As Jamie passed on his way to the outfield, Tyler would have sworn he was getting a cold glare. Is he genuinely jealous again? Tyler would have to lecture Jamie about that later.
A majority of the game’s remaining innings proceeded without incident. Until the eighth that is. Jamie hit a short line drive around Chase; the easy retrieval from the grass made the throw speedier than it had been in the first. A bit short though, and Tyler had to head toward the mound to receive the ball. He wasn’t slow, but still only got back simultaneously with Jamie’s arrival. Umpire Ninja called him out, but the fans thought it was worth challenging.
“Are you kidding me??” Jamie pulled off his hat and fanned himself with it while waiting. “How bad is Jason?”
“Probably a bruised bone. Out tomorrow.” Unlike earlier, Tyler noted that Jamie wasn’t even looking at him.
“After further review, the call on the field stands!”
*
They rode with their own teams back to the hotel. Since the Tailgaters arrived first, Tyler was confronted with Jamie’s wrath as soon as he opened the door. He had rarely seen an angry Jamie (road rage is real though), and the fury had never been directed at him. Jamie was just leaning against the dresser. Frankly, the potential was scary.
Once he spoke, Jamie’s voice was full of venom. “You’re playing first now?! Just out of the blue? Well congratulations!”
Tyler sighed. Not just trivial envy then. “I’ve been the reserve all season.”
“How could you not let me know that? You’ve wanted a spot the entire time I’ve known you!”
“It wasn’t deliberate!” Tyler took a calming breath. “I meant to tell you right away. But you were going through it and it slipped my mind and then it seemed like it would never happen so I just didn’t think about it.”
Jamie shoved himself away from the dresser, advancing on Tyler with authority. He used that height difference well, becoming quite daunting. “You just said ‘it’ five times. ‘Going through it.’ As in losing you?!” Jamie thumped Tyler’s chest with the back of his hand. “I was constantly freaking out! You sharing something important with me could have only helped!”
“You never lost me!!” Tyler put his own hand over Jamie’s heart. “I’ve always been right here!”
“I want that to be enough.” Jamie took a step back. “I’m not sure that it is,” he admitted quietly. The contrast from his prior volume made it even more resonant.
Tyler’s hand hovered in the same location until he dragged it through his hair. “Well, when we’re between playing each other, and until the break, it has to be.” Tyler thought that was conclusive. He went to sit on the edge of the bed, hoping Jamie was done. “Come on, I’m not letting you go to sleep mad about this.”
Jamie sat down next to him, as close as they could be without touching. “I might stay awake sad about it.”
*
It took several weeks to time the freezing properly. They had to keep lugging a cooler everywhere. The wind was less of a factor, but the balloon supply was also more limited. Consequently it was a long time before anyone could practice with them. But the first time a slush balloon connected with a bat, it was glorious. The kinetic energy caused the icy water to explode like a firework. The introductory sound wasn’t quite as satisfying as a homer, though the extra popping and liquid distribution noise made for something much more unique. All the Firefighters loved it.
Sid had to break a bit of bad news though. “Hold up. I know it’s been the plan the whole time but uh, you can’t use that for a 3-2-2.”
Cale pouted (it’s super effective!). Nate furrowed his brow, asking, “And why on earth not?”
“Because I have a bigger idea.”
*
The last game of the weekend. Jamie had a double in the second, and went right by Tyler without acknowledgement. Once at his base, Jamie glanced over and Tyler gave a subdued, mouth-closed smile. Jamie nodded. In the fourth, Tyler got a ball four sprint. Of course he took two bases, and of course all his focus was on Jamie during the fielding. Tyler blew a kiss once Jamie finally looked. Jamie didn’t respond.
After a few innings without points, the Tailgaters led 2-1 in the seventh, Party Animals at bat. Sal Jacobo had struck out swinging. It was too early for a golden batter; they still had plenty of time so Tyler was up. Jon Reid started with a trick pitch that went wide. Next was a fastball that wasn’t that fast, centered over the plate and a bit high; a batter’s pitch but it was a strike for Tyler. And then a rolling foul.
1-2 count. Even Tyler, not the best at reading pitches, knew the next was in the strike zone. He wasn’t going down without a fight. Time for a big swing. Ball met barrel and was going fair. Clearly a fly to left field. Almost no movement was necessary for Jamie to be under it. Tyler’s mind processed it in slow motion: Jamie removed his cowboy hat, Jamie flipped his cowboy hat, Jamie caught the ball with his cowboy hat. It was disappointing, sure, but Tyler could still appreciate that Jamie was so beautiful doing it. After throwing the ball infield and replacing the hat on his head, Jamie made a V with his fingers, pointed to his eyes, and then pointed at Tyler.
*
“Trouble in paradise?” Biz asked his mic. “While it’s no surprise that we’ve had less content from everyone’s favorite couple this season with Jamie Benn and Tyler Seguin on different teams, I don’t think any of us expected outright rivalry!”
The clip of the swing, the out, and the resulting reaction played for the billionth time.
“Seems everything is NOT awesome! Let’s see what today’s guest thinks. Brad, what do you think?”
“Hi Biz, thanks for having me.” Was that a wink? “First, rivalry is a terrible word choice. You’re too busy being clever to be smart.”
“Well if you’re soooo brilliant, why don’t you enlighten us all?”
“Don’t mind if I do. I don’t care what the gossipmongers say, there are no rivalries in Banana Ball. We all love each other, and Jamie and Tyler love each other even more.”
“Oh yeah?” Biz led into his next question with a smirk. “You think I’m clever?”
“Only when you’re not trying to be.” Brad’s eyeroll was almost audible. “And I take it back, there’s one rivalry in Banana Ball, which would be me and you. Anyway, second, what makes you think any of that wasn’t just for show? Entertainment is our job.”
“Like our rivalry is just for show.”
“Keep telling yourself that buddy.”
*
“You should do an Elvis walk-up because you look just like Austin Butler.”
“Didn’t someone already do an Elvis walk-up?”
“Do you have any idea how many times the Party Animals have done synchronized swimming?”
*
Sid and Nate were arguing over who would get to swing. Cale watched them like a tennis match. Nate had already mentioned that his socials needed it more. Twice. Sid debated him with the new plan being his idea, and that he was the more experienced batter. Cale was tired of it.
“Whoever doesn’t do it is going to be assisting, right?”
Sid and Nate nodded.
“Then who’s faster?” They couldn’t legitimately counterargue that line of thinking. Nate was faster, so Sid would be swinging. As the season was nearing its end, they coordinated with the pre-show staff to do it during the last Firefighters headlining game.
*
The Bananas love Miley Cyrus. Maceo’s whole “Wrecking Ball” routine wouldn’t exist without her. Therefore Jackson’s request to do a walk-up to “Flowers” met with everyone’s approval. But what type of flowers? A very important question (you know, for Banana Ball).
“Whatever Miley would buy herself?” Reese Alexiades pointed out that the song mentions roses.
Cowboy Kyle took an alternative approach. “Nah man, whatever you would buy yourself.”
Well, Jackson didn’t know what flowers he would buy himself. The entertainment staff further added that the flowers should be fake and with long stems. And how to present them? A slightly less important but still important question.
“Just start with a bouquet already in your hands?”
“No, a vase. That’s where you’d put them, right?”
The “buy” part of the song (again, Banana Ball important) dictated purchase. The more artistic guys made a “Flower Shop” sign to attach to a table. And said shop would need more than one variety or it wouldn’t be much of a shop. Red roses, hot pink carnations, bluebonnets, and the inevitable winner: sunflowers.
A walk-up starting with the player descending stairs was common for a reason; the tactic built audience interest gradually and directed attention to the eventual main action on the field. Jackson was through the first verse before reaching ground level, and the lyrics (like all but three lines of the song really) were unimportant to his goal. His table arrival was right on schedule, occurring with the first “I can buy myself flowers.”
Jackson took the sunflowers, which were merely loose on the table. Neither bouquet nor vase would work for distribution, and the next step was throwing them one at a time to fans in the nearest seats. Jackson interspersed a few more dance moves, i.e. taking himself. He kept a single flower though; that was important. He held his own hand at the middle of the stem.
And then he was at the batter’s box (you’ve guessed the catcher, right?). One might have thought the upcoming gesture in combination with the “love me better” refrain would be a brushoff, but Jackson knew Miley would find someone new sometime. So Jackson placed the stem in Juice’s chest protector, the bloom peeking out of the top. His hand unquestionably lingered there longer than strictly necessary.
Jackson had to ask. “Standards met?”
Juice gave a subdued smile, subtle enough that only Jackson could see it. “Better. Standards surpassed.”
“Back to you then.”
When Jackson later ran from first to third, Juice oriented himself to observe the route. Watching a runner is his job. If his movement mimicked that of a sunflower following the sun, that was just a coincidence.
*
“You need to apologize.”
“But it wasn’t intentional!”
Brad continued pushing. “You haven’t told me all the details, but you said Jamie was justifiably upset. You admitted that you weren’t great at handling the situation. And even if you’re not feeling guilty, won’t you both feel closer to normal with a degree of clarity?”
Tyler knew Brad was right. That was the case surprisingly often. “Okay, okay. I just need to figure out what to say. And how to say it. And when. Okay, I need to figure out all of it.”
“No, you don’t. Make like Nike and just do it.” Brad grabbed Tyler’s phone, quickly held it to his face for the unlock, and called Jamie. He didn’t hand the device back until he’d heard the ringing. Brad couldn’t make out the words, but could tell Jamie had answered. He gave Tyler an encouraging squeeze on the shoulder (doubling as an apology for the ambush) and left the room.
“I miss you, okay. I miss you all the time. I should have been telling you that all the time, and for that I’m sorry. But I’m not sorry that I didn’t want to make things worse for you. And then I made things worse anyway. I certainly didn’t avoid telling you about first on purpose. But of course I should have. Of course it should have been my top priority. YOU should always be my top priority Jamie. I was careless and I hurt you and I’m so sorry and it doesn’t matter that it was an accident. I just hope you can forgive me.”
Jamie breathed deeply as though he were the one who’d just been monologuing. The delay was sufficient for Tyler to check the screen and confirm they hadn’t been disconnected.
“Of course I forgive you Ty. I always miss you too and clearly I should have been more open about that.” Jamie paused, and Tyler knew him well enough to tell it was a pause rather than a stop. “And I’m also sorry Tyler.”
He had to interrupt at that. “Why? What do you have to apologize for babe?”
“You know I’ve been jealous. And that’s despite trusting you. Maybe I…” Silence as Jamie returned to collecting his thoughts. Tyler held his tongue. “Maybe I just love you too much.”
“Not possible. I love you more, and it’s definitely a normal, healthy, not unreasonably obsessive amount.”
“It’s not a contest.” Tyler could hear a smile in Jamie’s voice. “We’re allowed to love each other the same amount.”
“If you say so,” Tyler replied with a vocal smile of his own. “Now. What can we do about it?”
What could they do indeed.
*
“Banana Ball Fire Department, what’s your emergency?”
“FIRE!!!”
Cale was on the mound with his cooler of slush balloons. Sid was at the plate in the full firefighter jacket and helmet (look, it’s not turnout gear; OSHA compliance isn’t required) and his bat had the stunt gel along the barrel. Nate was behind him with a cartoonish pail of water and a long-stem lighter. And every camera in the place was facing them.
Balloon in hand, Cale nodded. Bat at the ready, Sid nodded. Lighter up, Nate nodded and pulled the trigger, setting the bat on fire. Cale’s pitch went perfectly to Sid’s wheelhouse just as they’d rehearsed. The bat slammed into the slush, the impact causing an awkward “plop” noise. The ice vaporized to steam instantly, the balloon rupturing with a prolonged hiss. The fire was fully extinguished, a cloud of vapory mist coated the infield, and the audience continued going bonkers until it had dissipated.
Cale had started running to home as soon as it was clear he wouldn’t need to throw another. He crashed into Sid with a full-body hug requiring a few steps back to maintain stability. That put them right beside Nate, who surrounded them too. Then the trio was in the middle of the entire team. Plus Bo the Beaver. Like the sweatiest possible weighted blanket. So comforting. So smelly.
When the group finally separated, Cale noticed that Sid was still in the jacket. “Hey Sid? Aren’t you hot?”
“I’m always hot.”
“Nate, don’t you think Sid is hot?”
“I know he’s hot. He just told you he’s hot Cale.”
“Well don’t you think we should do something about that?”
“Absolutely.”
Sid’s eyebrows indicated his curiosity. It didn’t last long; Nate proceeded to dump the water bucket on him.
*
In the current stadium’s otherwise empty underground access tunnel, Juice stopped Jackson and asked, “Did you know bananas are radioactive?”
“I might have heard that at some point in my life, yes,” he answered, underselling his potassium isotope knowledge.
“It would take millions of bananas for someone to die of radiation poisoning.”
“Okay…” Jackson said, not understanding despite knowing the math was mathing. He wasn’t following the significance, yet still trusted that Juice would help him get there.
“You’re just one banana.”
Once Jackson nodded, Juice kissed him.
“Did you research the banana equivalent dose just to use that line on me?”
“Look at you: smart AND handsome. However, not just that line, also the next.”
“Which is?” Jackson backed up a step. “As usual, you’ve set the expectation for something better. Let’s see if you deliver.”
Juice pulled Jackson back to him. “You’re not just one. You’re THE one.”
Jackson linked their mouths once more, then had to admit, “That wasn’t just better. That was the best.”
Their faces were still connected when footsteps echoed through the tunnel. Dan cheered them with a yell of “FINALLY!”
*
“Is it for the fans, or is it for us?”
“Like the taco commercial girl says, why not both?”
It was the last Party-Animals-as-home-team meeting with the Tailgaters for the year. Jason was back to 100%, so no chance for Jamie to interact with Tyler when rounding the bases. Fortunately they’d already coordinated their timing (and consent). They could have warned their teams, but who cares? Banana Ball is for all.
Before they could enact their plan, an exceptional oddity occurred. Andy Cosgrove went ahead and swung at 3-0, tallying a strike. But then Cole Kitchen threw a pitch into the dirt, and it was time for yet another sprint. Friendly reminder, a batter can take as many bases as possible until all fielders have participated, but somehow, multiple Tailgater errors permitted the Love Islander to make it all the way home. Would one call that an inside-the-park home run? In an official capacity, Drake and Brett were unable to confirm. And after the third out, Nate Tellier followed up with an attempt at the world’s fastest inning. Slow your roll!
In the middle of the seventh, Party Down started up the singalong. The stadium had adjusted the lighting, the glowsticks had been distributed, and the largest screen had switched to “Don’t Stop Believin’” lyrics. The introductory two verses went as expected, the two teams performing along the first and third baselines. As the song continued into the chorus, Jamie and Tyler discreetly approached the plate.
But as the crowd yelled the title (can’t really call it singing), the couple gradually gained audience awareness. The closest fans audibly shifted from the words to general excited screaming, and waves of seating sections joined in as everyone figured out what was commanding their attention. Jamie had given Tyler a twirl and pulled him close enough to kiss. Although the Party Animals do lean into the “sexiest” descriptor, they kept the action all ages friendly, no more intense than the lip-lock at a wedding. And then Jamie dipped Tyler, adding rampant applause to the experience. Very romantic comedy. It was the happiest Tyler had seen Jamie in a long time. It was contagious.
An incredibly loud “awww!” from the line of Party Animals and Jamie began seeking out the source. Turned out the sound was Tanner’s reaction, and he made eye contact with Jamie before bringing his hands together in the shape of a heart. Jamie tilted his head in the subtlest of nods, suspecting that his insecurity in that specific department wouldn’t be a problem in the future.
*
“Yes!!! The bromance is back baby!”
“Just so you know, that word rather trivializes their actual romance.”
“Dude, they’re literally my bros.”
*
In those days between the semifinals and the last championship game, Grayson hosted a carnival with all teams in attendance. Various Firefighters were disappointed to find that their rope ladder prowess was subpar (great footage though!). Drew had won at ring toss, balloon darts, and the game with the live goldfish. He had stopped playing so he wouldn’t have to carry around more prizes, but Bronny offered to help on the condition they could compete at the water gun race. Jackson and Juice were monopolizing the photobooth, claiming they couldn’t leave until they had used all available props. Their assumption of privacy was incorrect; the couple’s activities were suddenly PDA each time a pic shot out of the dispenser.
Either the ferris wheel was the most popular attraction, or the repeated stopping and starting caused enough of a backup to make its line the longest. Once eventually to the front and informed that no, a single bench would not accommodate three adult men, Mikko conveniently happened to abduct Nate for a basketball competition in the arcade area, leaving Sid and Cale free to ride together. After the stuttering loading process settled and the ring was full, Sid took the consistent climbing as an opportunity to grab Cale’s hand, interlocking their fingers.
Sid asked, “Did I ever tell you that I’m glad Nate introduced us?”
Cale rested his temple on Sid’s shoulder. “Not with words.”
“Hmm. Well, I’m glad Nate introduced us.”
*
A cold front had arrived, making Savannah unexpectedly cooler than usual post-sundown. Mack was pleased to find that meant the food court area had added a stand with hot chocolate. And it had different flavor options and toppings too! Time to sample them all.
Nearby at the funnel cake food truck, Jamie was picking up (what else?) a funnel cake. He balanced the plate on his palm while returning to Tyler. Jamie didn’t have to request assistance; Tyler ripped off a strand, tapped off excess powdered sugar, and deposited the fair food into Jamie’s mouth.
“My turn.” Tyler swiped the plate away too quickly, causing a snowdrift onto his own face. Jamie had to put up a fist to contain his laughter. “Well don’t just stand there! Take a pic already!”
The himbo allegations against Tyler were hard to beat, but he was still smart enough not to bother getting clean until finished eating. Later they each won a game of skee-ball and watched as Ryan Cox kicked whack-a-mole’s ass. Once he figured they had met their video appearance quota, Jamie suggested they just wander. Tyler readily agreed since that was the best way to keep Jamie’s arm around his shoulders.
“I’ve been meaning to ask you. Where do we want to stay for the offseason?” Tyler shrugged slightly, enjoying how the movement spread Jamie’s warmth further down his back. When unanswered, Jamie prompted, “Snow? Sun? Southern hemisphere?”
Tyler took a moment. It was a big deal. He had to give the question the cognitive effort it deserved. That Jamie deserved. It was important, and not in the Banana Ball sense of importance. Not just it, Jamie was Important with a capital I. Even though it sounded flippant, Tyler kept arriving at the same conclusion, so he voiced it. “I don’t care, wherever you want.”
“Ty, I’m being serious.”
“So am I.” Tyler directed Jamie to behind the wall of large plushes at the milk can game. “I don’t care if we’re here in Georgia. I don’t care if we’re with Jordie in Texas. We can spend the entire time in Antarctica if you want for all I care. All I need is you.”
Jamie completely enveloped Tyler: arms around his torso, chin digging into his shoulder, an ankle hooked between his. The comment didn’t require a response, but after a moment Jamie did respond with “No thank you to Antarctica, too much ice. But not somewhere in Canada?”
“In the winter? Don’t think so babe. I’ve grown used to not seeing my breath.”
“You’re right. Not just about the cold thing though. It’s cheesy but where you are is home.”
*
Things were wrapping up at the carnival, but Jesse made everyone gather around the high striker for a last hurrah. Jake Skole grasped the mallet and gave a couple of practice swings as though it were a bat. Once going for the target though, he narrowly missed and awkwardly whacked the ground. Jake took a more precise pass at it, but the decreased power put the slider only halfway up the mast.
“I got this.” And the mallet left his hands, commandeered by his teammate Ashton Lansdell. She didn’t lie; she hit the bell without delay. Ashton yelled “That’s how you do it!” to the closest phone pointed in her direction.
Various players not exhausted by the long day alternated shooting their shot, the others in the group encircling them and monitoring the antics. Nate snuck up on Cale and Sid, inserting himself in the middle. “Missed you guys.”
With a mischievous glint in his eye, Cale chirped him with “Mikko beat you then?”
“Shut up, he has an unfair advantage.” Mostly to himself, Nate grumbled, “Finnish giant.”
The sound of Tom examining the high striker’s springing function by merely punching the base was a brief distraction. Wyatt noted that they could make some humorous edits by going as tight as possible followed by as loose as possible. Dalton Cornett worked to make the adjustments, while Stilts just stood there flicking the bell with a finger.
Sid spoke quietly to avoid anyone overhearing. “Maybe someone else wants to be in the middle sometime.” Cale nodded in agreement.
Nate’s head jerked back and forth between the two of them, eyes darting. “If this is a conspiracy, I like the initiative.”
*
So another season was in the record books. But what’s next for our crew? Well, we’ll certainly see who bec–
“NO SPOILERS!”