The Gift of a Coach: A Novel of Baseball and Friendship

Prologue

The way the dirt fell into symmetrical shapes, never touching the vibrant green grass of the outfield. The way the lines were drawn, the little machine painting them into perfect existence, never having one out of place. They were dug up and messed with as the cleats of the players hustled up and down them, trying to get out of whatever play was about to happen. When fall came, it was as if the field was an opposite magnet against the brown and golden leaves. Not at any time would they fall on the field, messing up its perfect perfectionist look. The tarp was placed on it occasionally during inclement weather and the field always came out looking like new, never a speck of water, hail, or snow atop it.

It was a look that Jake Wolff never got tired of.

The look that made everything wrong in the world feel just right. It wouldn't always be that way but when casting a gaze upon the ball field, it seemed it would always be. It would always be sunny- warm thoughts taking over anyone's vision, mind, and body whenever they looked at it. It would always be... home. And home, it never changed. It never made you feel uncomfortable, unworthy, or anything less than. And it never made you question any decision you had ever made up to this point. Your life just...was. And it would never be put under a microscope. It didn't matter what mistakes you made, would make, or wouldn't make at all. There was no backlash. No repercussions, no consequences.

Well, it would just weigh on you.

But nothing a trip to the ball field couldn't fix. Whenever Jake had laid eyes on it as a kid, he couldn't imagine not being able to touch it. Not being able to be a part of the game that meant so much to everyone. He had to be curious. And he had questioned and wondered all his life, why did it mean so much more? It was just a game where you hit a ball and run. He had to play. This was why at the age of 3, his dad had him hitting whiffle balls over the neighbor's fence with giant smiles on both of their faces. That smile, similar to the one Jake had on his face right now, laying his eyes on the Brennan High baseball field as he leaned over the fence with his best friend, Nick Zami, right beside him. And Nick told him how he looked, without a beat. 

"You know you look like a goof right now, right?"

"What?" Jake said, whipping around, crossing his arms over his light jacket that billowed in the brisk wind. It wasn't the kind of wind that made you cold. It was the kind that made you warm, at least inside.

"I've just never seen you this happy. I'm happy you're happy, dude," Nick said sheepishly, patting Jake on the back and shooting him a grin of his own.

"Well, I appreciate it. I just can't help thinking and wishing that my dad could be here to see this," Jake said, scoffing slightly under his breath.

What Jake was talking about was a thing that both he and his dad had wanted for him since he was old enough to know what the words people said meant. As of tomorrow, Jake was to be known as Coach Jake Wolff. Yep, that's right. Jake was overlooking his team's ball field. Jake was going to achieve the dream he never knew he wanted. To be Brennan High's baseball coach. And the head of baseball operations. He was gonna be a big deal. But he didn't want to do this for the glory. No, Jake wanted to do this for himself. And for his dad.

Any kid's hero when they're younger is their parents. They are the people that taught you everything. For Jake, it was even more than that. His dad was his best friend. Before he met Nick of course. They did everything together from that young age of 3-hitting balls over the fence to playing board games and puzzles. To when he was older-asking for advice about girls, to shaving, being dropped off at college. It didn't matter to Jake that his dad wasn't his blood dad. Benjamin Wolff was a savior to a kid that never thought he mattered.

And Jake could never say in words what that meant.

He just wished with all his heart he had gotten to tell his dad everything he had already said before he died. Jake always ran through the events of the day in his head. If he hadn't gone bowling with his friends and just stayed home with his dad, maybe he would have been there to take his dad to the hospital? Maybe if he was there, his dad wouldn't have had his heart attack. Maybe, maybe, maybe. It was the nightmare that Jake lived while he was awake and asleep. A battle with himself he knew he would never win. But a battle that he could quell considerably with Nick by his side. He had met Nick in college and since then, the pair have been inseparable. They've won national championships by each other's sides, been lonely, scared, sick, sad, and everything in between together.
But that's just it. Together.
And Jake couldn't be more grateful for everything even if he tried.

Nick looked at him sympathetically and ran his hand along his friend's shoulders.

"He is. You see the sky?"

Jake looked up and the sky was painted orange and pink. Some blue even. The hues blended together so spectacularly, Jake knew his dad did it for him. Only someone like Benjamin Wolff could take something so minuscule in meaning and make it become so tremendous.

"Jake, he's proud of what you're about to do tomorrow but I'm even more so. You know, it's not every day you get to watch your best dude for life achieve his dream and be able to go along for the ride"

"You're gonna be the best coach ever," Jake said, smiling at him.

"Right back at you," Nick said as both guys threw their hands over the fence and continued to watch the empty field, it never feeling more full.

Jake's heart hadn't either.