Friday, May 21, 2010 - Baseball Season's Conclusion

[Amanda Rose]

The bus was rocking. Neptune High had snatched a come-from-behind, 7th inning rally for a 3-2 win in the last game of the season to even the record at 18-18. Neptune's non-losing season in nobody knew how many years. Coaches smiled. High fives were exchanged. High hopes for next season abounded. Inserted for defense in center in the 5th inning, Oliver had led off the 7th. He "failed to evade" and inside curve and was awarded first base. Stole second. Advanced to third on a sacrifice bunt and scored on Sam's towering sacrifice fly to left. In the back of the happy bus, Oliver sat alone, kicking the bottom of the seat in front of him. _Baseball season isn't over, but mine is. This sucks._

Sam noticed that Oliver was not anywhere in the crowds of the team celebrating what was truly a histortic occasion. He stood up and started looking about and saw the pouting Oliver at the back.Sam got up and walked to the back of the bus and sat beside Oliver. "What's up? Get a text that Lisa was dumping you?"

Oliver glared up, briefly annoyed that anyone could be celebrating before softening at Sam's good humor. "No," he started with a chuckle. "Baseball season continues without us, Sam. Hardly seems a reason to celebrate." He shrugged. "I've never missed the playoffs before."

Sam tilted his head a bit at Oliver and asked, "It is not like you didn't see this coming, Oliver. No winning record was possible. And this isn't middle school either. Things are tougher. So, why the pissiness now?" He paused for a moment. "I know, Katie threatened you with a rainbow ass whooping...."

Oliver sighed. "I dunno, Sam. I guess it's the finality of it. I mean, the season is over for us. Our rivals are still playing. That sucks." He looked down at his uniform. The still unfamiliar 7 on his chest where he'd always worn a 5. For Allie.

Sam sighed. "You could look at it that way or you could look at it from the perspective that you helped us get to .500 for the first time in decades. It is a reason to celebrate. Don't be a douche."

"How do you celebrate failing?" Oliver asked plaintively. "Sure, next week or next month or in training camp next season, we'll look back and say we improved, but ... You play to win and we didn't."

"We won today. We got to .500. That is a win. Failing is when you don't meet goals. We exceeded them, Meat." He then pointed at the 7. "You want to talk about failing? Our mutual friend, whose number you took there, that's failing. A hundred years of futility. I told her she should switch her allegiance to the Tigers," he said with a half reminiscent chuckle.

Oliver turned away to hide the tear in his eye. "She never could see any sense. Probably still thinks the Blackhawks will win a Cup someday soon."

"Yes, probably does. But we all know the Red Wings are vastly superior and will do it again." Sam put his arm Oliver. "It sucks, though. Whole thing makes no sense."

Oliver wiped his eyes and slapped Sam on the back. "Thanks, man."

He stood up and high-fived the guy in front of him without even looking to see who it was and yelled, "How about Sam hitting that sac fly so far David Wells could have scored!"

Sam laughed. "He still would have had to slide to make it."

Oliver shook his head at Sam and grinned before continuing, loudly, "And next year we'll be on this bus making plans for the playoffs!"

The bus cheered loudly at that and started chanting, "PLAYOFFS! PLAYOFFS! PLAYOFFS!"

Sam gave a small laugh at Oliver and whispered, "I'd say that's more like it."