𝐛𝐞𝐭𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐨𝐧 𝐛𝐞𝐧𝐧𝐲 | 𝐛. 𝐫𝐨𝐝𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐮𝐞𝐳

𝐬𝐢𝐱 | 𝐥𝐞𝐧𝐧𝐨𝐧

     "IT'S THE MIDDLE OF THE SEVENTH INNING AND THE DODGERS ARE DOWN THREE," Smalls says over the speaker up top.
     I watch as the teams switch positions. Benny runs by us without even looking at me. I don't take it to heart, however. I know that he needs to focus on the game. I watch as Cal Cooke steps out of the dugout, a bat in his hand. Cal is one of the best hitters on the team, second to Benny. Benny steps out, stepping into the On-Deck circle.
"What the Hell are they doing? They're wasting good players!" I shout, pointing at their dugout.
I look back at a Manny, my eyes wide. They need to wait on using Cal and Benny until they have a couple bases loaded. I reach up to my head and remove my headphones. I look at Manny.
"Manny, just stay here. I'll be right back." I say, walking towards the Dodger's Dugout.
I start walking faster, wanting to get there quickly. I start jogging. Cal starts to approach the batter's box. Shit.
"Calvin Cooke, get your ass outta that Box now!" I shout.
He raises an eyebrow as I approach him, slowing down. I grab him by the collar of his jersey and drag him over to the dugout. Benny raises an eyebrow.
     "Daniel! Mr. Richards, stop!" I shout. "I need to speak with you immediately!"
     Mr. Richards from this morning's meeting spins around, a look of concern on his face.
     "Ah, Miss. Davis. This is quite a surprise to see you over here." He says. "What can I do for you?"
     I look at Benny and Cal. Benny lifts his shoulder and removes his batting helmet, setting it next to his foot. He lifts the bat and places it on his foot. I look back at his face, watching as he carefully raises his left eyebrow and his eyes glance in my direction.
     "You need to change the Batting Order. This order—Cal batting first, Benny batting right behind him... It's destined to fail. Sure, you could potentially get two home runs and only be down by one run. But, if you changed your order, saved them for later, you could load the bases. Have Cal go fifth." I say. "Then have Benny follow him at sixth—it's always been a lucky number. That way, God-Forbid Cal doesn't hit a home run, you have Benny up to bat right behind him."
     Daniel raises an eyebrow and looks at the other players. He looks over my shoulder at Benny who stands behind me on the stairs.
     "What do you say, Cal? Benny?" He asks, holding up the current batting order.
     Cal reaches forward, grabbing the clipboard, flipping through it.
     "This batting order... It could get us two more runs. This could secure us two more runs. Chip up there pitches damn good. We might not even be secured to make it to fifth and sixth on the order." Cal says.
He hands the order to Benny. Benny flips the page and sighs. He scratches his left eyebrow with his middle finger on his right hand and bites down on his bottom lip.
"Sure, that's true. But it doesn't even secure us two runs. Hell—Chip up there could strike you and I both out like we're nothing." He says. "Miss Davis's plan is out there, but it makes sense. We get a couple bases loaded, maybe even get them all loaded and get those runs."
He hands the clipboard back to Daniel and sighs, shrugging his shoulder.
"What are you saying, Benny? What do you think we should do?" Daniel asks.
Benny nods, a smile lifting onto his lips as he wraps his hand around the neck of the bat.
"I say let's do this. Let's get out there and show them who we are." He says.
Daniel grabs the current batting order and tears it up. He reaches into his bag and grabs a pad of paper and a pen.
"Miss. Davis, get over here. You're gonna need to head up and see Scott Smalls up there and explain the change in batting order. Tony, get up there and start warming up." He says.
He gives me the pad of paper and the blue ballpoint pen. I frantically scribble out the batting order, circling Benny, Cal, and a few others.
"Once you take that up to him, come back down. I want to see your face when your creation takes place." He says.
He points me towards a set of stairs that take me inside the stadium. I remember how to get upstairs to where I went to our conference meeting this morning. Apparently, Smalls's office is just down the hall from there.
"I'll be down in five minutes." I say, stepping out of the dugout.
I tuck the piece of paper into my pocket and nod at Cal and Benny. I watch Tony Marshall stand at the Batter's box, raise the bat to swing it. I shake my head and start to jog towards the stairs. I need to explain that there's been a change in the order. I walk up the stairs and find the elevator. I ride up to the fourth floor, fiddling with my jacket zipper. The doors open and I step onto the floor. I walk down the hall, spotting Smalls sitting at a desk close to the window. He smiles, tapping his book twice.
     "Tony Marshall makes it to Second and—uh oh. Mark Smith is out! The Astros have caught the pop-fly!" He exclaims.
     I sigh, shaking my head. I knock twice, stepping inside.
     "Smalls—Scott? There's been a change of plans."