The way we started, with so much animosity on my part and fear of her job, her father’s mistakes and the pressure of all eyes watching on her part … it’s a miracle we’ve made it to where we are. I always thought the kind of love that we share didn’t exist, that I’d find some version of love that contented me enough to settle down with after my career was over.
But with Colleen I was bewitched. From the moment I held her face in my gaze, a part of me knew. Even if I was actively trying to ignore the spark she ignited within my chest, it was still there. And then I kissed her, and I was a goner. There’s no coming back from it, even if it took us awhile and a public scandal to resolve that we should be together.
She is the strongest, most determined, quietly fierce person I’ve ever met. The adversity she’s had to overcome, some that most people would consider dumb since she grew up so privileged, is a testament to her character. Growing up with the parents she did, living under the thumb of the Callahan name? Those aren’t easy hurdles. But she’s taken them on beautifully, and I can’t wait to stand next to her and watch all the good she does for this organization and the world around her for many years to come.
This is her time to shine, I’ve had mine. If we win tonight, I’ll add a fourth World Series ring to my collection, and that’s more than some players ever get. Some don’t even get one. I’ve been immensely blessed in my career, both with great teams and teammates, and supportive people around me like Bryant, and sometimes Charlie. I’ve played in other countries, in all-star games, had endorsement deals and recorded my name in record books. I’ve done all there is to do, each thing I set out to accomplish when I was a young rookie in the league. Now it’s time for the next best adventure.
We’re one out away from taking it all, and I nod to Walker across the diamond. The feeling in the air is a mixture of eerie and elated, because we’re on the precipice of greatness.
I watch as their batter walks into the box, and I can see the weariness in his eyes. He knows he can lose this series for them right now, and that’s how I know, before he even swings the bat, that we have won. Once you let fear take over, nothing is going to go in your favor.
Everything in me runs on adrenaline, a narrow focus falling over my vision. My fingers tingle inside my glove, and my heart feels like it might just burst through my chest wall. Clark is on the mound to finish out the game and serves up the first pitch.
“Ball,” calls the umpire.
An audible whoosh falls out of the crowd’s mouth, and I try not to acknowledge the roller-coaster dip of my stomach.
Clark waves off a pitch, then another, before settling on the signal the catcher throws down between his legs. I crouch, getting into position, and brace for whatever is coming next. He launches a breaking ball, which should land in our catcher’s glove with a thud, but the batter gets a piece of it.
The ball is driven straight to me, whizzing through the air in light-year fashion. It’s at an awkward angle, and I pull my glove up to the middle of my chest, palm out. It lands in my glove, jerking me back with its force, but I hold on for dear life.
Not until I hear the umpire’s roaring call of “OUT” do I drop it, then drop to my knees.
We did it. We’re World Series champions.
In a blur of commotion and light, I’m running to home plate, meeting the players and coaches who are running out of the dugout as players from the outfield rush up behind me. We all clamber into one big group hug, or mosh pit … I can’t tell which. But there are tears and whoops of joy and so much laughter.
“We fucking did it, man!” Clark is shouting in my ear, and we embrace in the biggest bro hug in history.
“Can’t believe we just pulled that off.” Walker is grinning ear to ear as he holds his hand out to me.
I shake it, and then we break and pull each other into a hug. Confetti rains down upon us as someone plunks a World Series Champions hat down onto my head. They’re playing Queen’s “We Are the Champions,” and I’ve never had bigger goose bumps in my life.
If there was ever a way to go out, it’s this. Sure, I said that win or lose I was done, but it would have fucking sucked to walk away without that last ring.
The huddle dissipates a little as the families start to stream onto the field, little kids and wives running for their players. Moms and Dads hug their adult sons, everyone crying in happiness.
I spot Colleen before she even makes it past the dirt of the on-deck circle, and sprint for her. With everyone watching, cameras clicking away, and the whole wide world in view, I pick her up and spin her in a circle.
She’s laughing, her light brown hair blowing around her pink cheeks, and I lower her to the ground by sliding her down my body.
“Way to go, champ.” She winks at me, smirking.
“Couldn’t have done it without my general manager.” I tuck a strand of hair behind her ear.
“We shouldn’t be …” She tries to shrug away, but I catch her by the lapels of that sexy librarian pea coat she dons.
“It doesn’t matter if the entire world sees me touching you. Because we’re allowed to do that now. You know why?”
Colleen’s amber eyes are still shifty, as if she’s trying to gauge how many people are watching us. “Why?”
“I already decided before tonight, win or lose, this would be my last game. Sent the press release and my thoughts to Charlie. He’s releasing them tomorrow. I’m retiring.”
The woman I love looks like I’ve just told her that UFOs are real, and I’m their alien leader. “Hayes, I … I can’t ask you to do that.”
“It’s a good thing I wasn’t looking for your question, then.” I smirk, bumping my nose against hers. “This is my decision. I choose you, babe. I choose us.”
She breathes something between a relieved sigh and a pained groan. “Hayes, you love baseball. It’s such a big part of your life, you can’t walk away—”
“I’m not walking away from baseball. Hell, my girlfriend owns a team, I’m pretty sure I could find a coaching position if I want one. Or be one of those old guys who cashes in on his fame and does commercials for copper back wraps. I’m not walking away from anything. I’m walking toward you, which is a hell of a lot more exciting and fulfilling than any game I’ve ever played.”
Big brown eyes blink at me, and tears cloud them. “Oh my God! I can’t believe it …”
Then I do something I’ve been waiting to do for what seems like an eternity. I kiss her for the world to see, right there in the middle of the celebration. That action, this expression of love, feels better than any ring I’ve ever won.
I’m not giving up my career, I’m not settling for anything. Hell, I’m going out with a World Series ring on my finger.
No, I’m trading one happiness for another. Being able to show the whole world how much I love this woman, spending each day out in the open with her, that’s what I want for the next step in my life.
I’ll go down swinging with her, come what may. And I may be getting a World Series ring from this, but I have plans to very soon put a ring of my own on her left hand.
I smirk as I kiss her again, knowing full well the kind of celebrations we have to come.