All To Myself//Christian Yelich

Phrasing

Game Night

The crowd was ready. The boys were ready. Roosevelt was not ready. Sure, she had already told the boys what drills and stretches to run, but she wasn't prepared to be stuck sitting/standing opposite to the handsome outfielder. She couldn't get his smile or kind eyes out of her mind. Plus his voice...She hated herself for acting like a lovesick kid. Her brain had unnecessarily put him on repeat; her night, morning, and afternoon had consisted of simply going through the motions all the while she thought about him. It hadn't helped that she had gone onto Intagram to witness all that was Christian Yelich. Granted, she never used her Instagram, but maybe she'd look at the app more. It had taken all her will power to not follow him. 'No evidence.'

Her brother had readily noticed her being preoccupied but refrained from asking her what was up with her as he figured she'd talk to him when she was ready. Plus, he figured that his surprise would be enough to shake her from her funk. Chapman had also taken notice of the woman's lack of personality, and he couldn't have some dude from Milwaukee take it away, even if the dude was clueless about it.

"Hey, Rosie. I need a new walk up song, any suggestions?" He asked as he exited the clubhouse. He was always one of the first players out. Turning, she flashed him her trademark smile, and smugly returned, "Now you want my advice? There's nothing wrong with Travis Scott."

"I think I'm tired of 'Antidote' though." He challenged with a smirk. Nodding in understanding, she pulled her long hair up into a high ponytail and offered, "I'm quite partial to 'Back to the Hotel' by N2Deep."

"I'll give it a shot."

"Aww, I'm touched. You're gonna feel like a badass when that intro plays." She retorted with a brief laugh before hauling her stuff to the dugout. She carefully placed her things off to the side and waited. The players trickled in. After pacing, she finally took a seat and readily noted how atypically quiet it was in the dugout and on the field.

"What?" she mouthed to Chad Pinder who simply shook his head. He wasn't going to tell her.

"Attention. Attention please. It is time for the opening pitch. The Oakland Athletics are excited to give a warm welcome to their very own Roosevelt Olson. Miss Olson is a two- time Olympic medalist, earning a silver and gold respectively. She and her beach volleyball partner are the current world champions. Now, she works as a trainer with the Athletics. Welcome Miss Olson."

Her jaw dropped. She was absolutely stunned. All the players were grinning ear to ear. They were all in on it.

Quickly pulling herself together, Roosevelt slapped her trademark grin on and headed out to the mound. The crowd went wild as she was handed a baseball. She waved all around to the energized Oakland crowd. Her eyes stayed a little bit longer on the faithful right field bleachers. They appropriately gave a drumming rhythm to get ready to throw out the pitch.

Looking to her left, her eyes quickly met Christian's. He gave her an encouraging smile and nod. Roosevelt silently wished she had him around all the time-his encouragement felt genuine and strong.

Turning, she moved to stare down Chappy; she wound up and threw her classic fastball, which landed perfectly for a strike. The clock showed 70mph. The crowd oohed and awed. Loud music boomed in celebration. She glanced back over to Christian who looked absolutely astonished. Well, that infatuation would end. No man likes to be overshadowed.
'And another one bites the dust.' She thought to herself. Her shoulders briefly slumped only to be quickly put back up as Matt met her at the mound. "You throw hard."

"That's what she said." She quipped causing him to chuckle and flash her a grin. It was easy for Roosevelt to admit that she loved Chapman. He was basically her twin brother from another mother.