𝐛𝐞𝐭𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐨𝐧 𝐛𝐞𝐧𝐧𝐲 | 𝐛. 𝐫𝐨𝐝𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐮𝐞𝐳

𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐫𝐭𝐲 | 𝐥𝐞𝐧𝐧𝐨𝐧

      "IT WAS GREAT TO MEET YOU, really. And I look forward to seeing you guys again when you come up to New York for a visit." Aaron says, preparing to head to the airport and fly back home.
Benny stands with Cal maybe twenty feet away from us. They talk, obviously talking about something else right now. I look up at Judge and exhale.
"Look, Aaron, I'm gonna be honest with you. Between you and me, Benny isn't serious about this trade. He's using as an experience opportunity because he doesn't plan to ever actually trade. I'm sorry if you were looking forward to the trade actually going through." I say.
He smiles and scrunches up his nose, looking over at Benny and Cal.
"That was my plan too. Los Angeles is cool and all, but I couldn't imagine being here for any longer than a casual visit. New York is where it's at, you understand. You're a New York girl too." He says.
I smile and shrug, watching Benny and Cal laugh as they talk about something completely unrelated.
"Nah, Los Angeles is maybe a little bit better. Plus, traffic really shouldn't bother you. You live in New York City!" I exclaim.
He smiles and nods. He holds out his hand to shake.
"You're pretty cool, Lennon Davis. You root for us Yanks, and we'll root for the Dodgers, deal?" He asks.
I nod, shaking his hand firmly. Although there's really no attraction factor between Judge and I, we mingle well. He reminds me of a close cousin or brother. A cool friend I hope to become even closer with as time goes on.
"Oh, and do me one favor?" He asks, an eyebrow raised. "Give the guy a genuine chance."
I groan and roll my eyes, shoving him towards his taxi.
"God, you sound like my mother!" I exclaim. "But, sure. I will."
He smiles and nods again, pulling the taxi door open.
"Thanks. He really snagged himself a good one. You've just gotta let him reel you in." He says.
I gag at his corny joke and roll my eyes. He laughs and climbs into the taxi, waving goodbye as it drives away. My watch dings and I nod. Roster time with Smalls.
"Benny, Cal, let's go! You've got warm up starting in ten and you still need to change out." I say.
The boys run inside quickly and I walk to the dugout. I grab my clipboard and return to Smalls' office where I plop down on his brown leather couch with a sigh of relief.
"Padres nearly whipped us last night, so today we need a clean up batter." I say. "We start with Gregory, then go to Betts, then third we have Seager, and have Benny clean up. Cal can follow Benny in case it isn't a perfect clean up." I say.

* * * * *

Corey Seager stands at first base, nodding to Mookie Betts who stands at Third. Benny approaches the plate, adjusting his helmet. Padres Pitcher Tom Walker watches Benny, nodding when he's ready. Benny raises the bat and licks his bottom lip, something he does when he focuses. He crowds the strike zone, a strategy he learned from old man Mertle. The pitchers hate when the batter crowds the strike zone. If the pitcher hits the batter, the batter gets a walk, filling a base. Walker throws the pitch and Benny stays perfectly still. Ball one. The catcher throws the ball back to Walker, exchanging a signal with him. Walker nods and preps the pitch. He raises his leg and twists his torso, throwing the ball. Benny swings. The ball dives beneath the bat and the first strike is counted against him. I exhale, crossing my arms. Walker and the Catcher nod and shake their heads. Finally he preps the pitch. He lifts his leg and twists his torso. The ball flies out of his hand quickly, curving. Benny tries to leap out of the way, but the ball hits his left upper arm and shoulder. His bat slips from his hand and he groans, spinning to avoid yelling out in pain, similar to when you stub your toe. The umpire places his hand on Benny's I injured shoulder, an eyebrow raised. They exchange a few words and Benny nods. 'Take a base' escapes the Umpire's lips and Benny nods. He slides his bat towards the dugout and slowly jogs to first base, taking Seager's place. Bases are loaded now. Cal walks to the plate, exhaling sharply. He raises the bat and swings at the first pitch. The bat connects with the ball with a large crack. The ball soars high into the sky, landing in the outfield. L Betts sprints home, nodding at the fact that he's evened the score to five to five. Seager sprints past second on past third and slides into home. Six to five. Betts and Seager high-five, nodding. Benny stands at third now, watching Cal who stands at first. Jansen approaches the plate, rolling his shoulder in preparation. The pitch flies forward and the bat connects with a crack. A single. Benny sprints home, running as fast as he can, sliding to the plate. He makes it, just barely, and stands, dusting himself off momentarily. He approaches the dugout where I furrow my brow. He removes his helmet and reaches up to his shoulder. He winces, rolling his neck and shoulder slowly.
      "Son of a bitch, that Walker has one hell of an arm." He says, smiling, rubbing his shoulder. "First time I've been hit by a pitch this season."