𝐛𝐞𝐭𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐨𝐧 𝐛𝐞𝐧𝐧𝐲 | 𝐛. 𝐫𝐨𝐝𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐮𝐞𝐳

𝐟𝐨𝐮𝐫 | 𝐥𝐞𝐧𝐧𝐨𝐧

I WALK INTO DODGERS STADIUM, adjusting my baseball cap. I walk to the elevator, pressing the up arrow. I hum silently, waiting for the elevator to open. The doors open and I watch as a group of men exit the elevator. I step inside, pressing four, the floor where I'll meet the coaches and managers. I lean back against the wall, sighing out sharply. I close my eyes and try to ignore the lightheadedness elevators give me.
"You know the game isn't for another two hours." Someone beside me says.
     I turn to my left, looking at them. It's a man, tall, handsome. He looks only a couple years older than me. He has deep gold curly hair, paired with fair skin. His eyes are a rich emerald green, enticing and enchanting in the color and his lips curl to create a perfect a smile. I thought he had gotten of with the rest of them.
     "Oh, yes. I know. I'm actually here to speak with the coaches." I say, turning back to the button panel.
He clears his throat, an eyebrow cocked. What is a woman doing speaking to the Dodgers coaches?
"You're going to speak with the coaches?" He asks. "What for?"
     I smile, rolling my eyes. He's a talkative one, isn't he?
    "You're a little nosy, you know that, right?" I ask him.
    He nods, shrugging. He doesn't really seem to mind that he's nosy.
    "Well, I'm the new on-field reporter for the Dodgers so I'm going to meet the coaches and managers to be able to understand them and their players." I say.
    He smiles. His lips part, exposing a row of perfect pearly-white teeth.
    "Well, in that case, you'll be making a friend early. I'm Calvin Cooke, but all my friends call me Cal. I'm the catcher." He says, offering his hand.
    I smile, taking his hand, shaking it firmly. He cocks an eyebrow at my grip.
    "Nice to meet you, Calvin. I'm Lennon Davis. My friends call me Len." I say.
    He nods, smiling, exposing those Damn nice pearly-whites.
    "Hell of a grip you got there, Lenny. You play Softball or something?" He asks.
    I shake my head. I never played baseball or softball with the girls in my neighborhood or school. It was always baseball with the boys. They played best.
    "Nope. Just a lot of baseball when I was growing up." I say.
    He smiles. The elevator doors open and I realize it's his floor.
    "Well, since you're going to talk to the big guys up top, put in a good word for me. That way, I don't have to do so much running." He says.
     I laugh, nodding. He steps off the elevator. A man, tall, fair skin, approaches him. His hair is dark and his eyes are enticing. My heart skips a beat. Benny Rodriguez. The doors close and I exhale sharply. The elevator rises and stops at the next floor. I straighten myself out and step off of the elevator. I approach the large east wing conference room. I knock twice. The door opens and it's Smalls. Scotty Smalls. I can tell by the old long-billed fishing cap he wore to the first day on the Sandlot. Benny told him to throw it in the fireplace but I guess that didn't really work out.
"Smalls?" I ask, a smile on my face. "Is that really you?"
He smiles, gasping. He opens his arms for a hug and I don't even hesitate. Besides Benny, Smalls was my best friend on the team.
"Oh my God, Len! It's so good to see you!" He exclaims.
I smile. He walks me into the conference room, taking a seat next to one of the managers. A tall man with caramel skin and graying hair stands, smiling.
"I'm Daniel Richards, the Head Coach." He says, offering a hand.
I smile, shaking his hand. He smiles and offers a seat.
"Hell of a grip there, Miss. Davis. You play ball as a kid?" He asks.
I smile, nodding. Two compliments on my grip in less than ten minutes.
"Yes, sir. I actually played with Scotty Smalls over here." I say, motioning to Smalls. "And, please, call me Lennon."
He smiles. Smalls clears his throat, cocking an eyebrow.
"She didn't just play with me, Daniel. She also played with your star, Benny." He says.
Daniel cocks an eyebrow. He looks over at the baseball roster where a large portrait of Benny hangs.
"You mean Benny, 'the jet', Rodriguez? That Benny?" He asks.
I nod. My eyes are trained on the photo of Benny. It was two years ago, third game of the season, everyone thought that Benny was a joke. Youngest kid on the team. No experience. Nothing. Then, with two outs, bases loaded, and a full count, Benjamin Rodriguez was determined to become a star. It was against the Washington Nationals is Dodgers stadium. The Dodgers were down two points and it was bottom of the ninth. At the top of the ninth, one player from D.C. made an unbelievable play and hit a homer. Two RBI's. Benny was up to bat and everyone thought it was gonna be a loss for them. The Dodgers started to pack up their stuff, kiss the game goodbye. But, Benny stayed confident. The pitch came, a heater. Just the way he likes em'. Just like Kenny used to throw. Fast. Low. Outside. A perfect shot. He swung. Confident. The ball connected with the bat and soared high into the sky. The crowd went completely silent. Everyone wanted to see where this went. The ball was like a spiral. It spun fast and hot. It soared higher and higher and landed in the deck. Benny 'the jet' Rodriguez then became Rookie of the year. Benny became a legend. Four RBI's. They were up two. They had officially won the game thanks to Benny.
"Oh, yes, sir. I usually don't talk about playing with Benny in order to respect his privacy." I say.
     I didn't really want to talk about Benny today. This is my job. I need to stop focusing on Benny and focus on my work.