The door of the Bentley opened. Then out came the man I had seen goofing around with the plastic bat outside Matryoshka Restaurant. He looked like his car - I mean he was short, neat, wearing nice clothes, hair combed back with care and he was all smile.
I also recognized the other taller man, who looked like his car too. He was bulky with massive shoulders and thighs like the sides of meat you see hanging in the butcher's shop. His long hair pulled back in a ponytail, was black and glossy like the Bentley. Black leather-gloved hand adjusted his black shiny sunglasses as he looked our way. When he turned his head to smile at the smaller guy, there was a flash of studs he wore in each ear.
As the two of them walked towards us, it really was a weird sight. The big man took his time, taking slow but powerful steps. And the smaller guy was talking all the time with his hands flying around making sharp neat gestures. The big one listened and nodded.
"Where did you find these men?" I asked Margaret. Every day on her way home from work, Margaret stopped at the Matryoshka to have a cup of coffee. There was always a pack of Russian guys sitting at the tables out on the street yabbering to each other. Surprisingly enough, Margaret found a sense of peace there.
"I was desperate to find this team a coach," she explained. "So I bowled straight up to these gentlemen and asked if any of them would like a job coaching a girl team. Don't be scared by their intimidating appearance. They're the nicest gay couple I'd ever met."
Then she laughed. She'd give up hope that those Russian guys had taken the idea seriously.
With a beaming smile, Margaret turned to drag them over.
"Thank you so much for coming! Introduce yourselves to the girls!"
They stood in front of us, smiling kind of nervously.
"I'm Felik," said the smaller man, stabbing his fingers into his chest as if we didn't understand English. "And this is Grigor."
The big man nodded hello.
Felik was polite and formal but very friendly at the same time.
"We hear you girls are looking for a coach," he began. "Me and Grigor happen to know a little bit about baseball. So we thought, today, we'd keep out of your way and have a look if that's okay with you."
The ump blew the whistle.
"Ah, the middle of the inning," said Felik with a smile. "Good luck."
We dragged ourselves to our feet. There didn't seem to be enough luck in the entire universe to save the Rejects.
~*~
Thirty seconds into the game, I sneaked a look at Felik and Grigor. They were sitting at the dugout, talking and watching.
Felix was maybe thirty. But the big guy had to be younger. Mid-twenties, at most.
Grigor looked so cool and powerful like a body-builder standing there with his arms folded across his massive chest. Felix was not bad himself, he could pass as a male model who moonlighted as a cage fighter. Plus the glossy black clothes, those sunglasses, he was what you'd imagine James Bond would look like in real life.
Together they seemed like a power couple like you could give a light bulb to them to hold and there'd be enough energy to make it burst into light. Their eyes darted over the ground, following the players, their brain whirring, not missing any tiny detail.
I was so curious about these two unusual guys, I didn't pay enough attention to the game. A yelp of pain from Olive made me turn back. She'd tried out some fancy curveball and hurt her shoulder, her face scrunched in agony.
The umpire held the game up while I ran to help Olive off the field. Margaret borrowed the first aid kit and ice packs from the Strikers' coach.
Meanwhile, Harper appeared at the corner of the street. She belted across to the field, breathless and flustered, and found Margaret looking after Olive's shoulder.
"Sorry, I'm late...I couldn't find my contact lens..." babbled Harper. "And I left my gloves at my friend's place. Does anyone have any spare gloves?"
Of course, no one did and Harper couldn't bat without them. But a minute later, I saw Felik trot over to her. He took his gloves off and handed them to her. The gloves fitted Harper perfectly.
"Wow," she gasped. "These are some expensive material."
On the field, Susan's loud growling was really rattling Olive.
"Can you ask her to give it a break?" Olive said to me.
I made a deer-in-the-headlight look. Why did everyone think I could control Susan of all people?
"Darci, what position should I play?" Harper asked.
"I...I don't know," I mumbled. "I don't think this team has positions anymore."
Why were they all asking me stuff? Just because I'm a coach's daughter, it doesn't mean I know every rule of the games.
I was as confused as everyone else on this lousy team.
A minute later, we went back into the field. But it didn't take long for us to fail when Tonya and Melissa went for a ball at the same time and crashed into each other.
Melissa hit the ground first and Tonya toppled on her. When they untangled themselves, Melissa was clutching her knee, which was split open and bleeding.
"Oh sorry...oh no...sorry," said Tonya. Huge Susan scooped little Melissa up in her arms and carted her off.
By this time, Margaret had become a battlefield medic with Olive and Melissa laid out on the sideline for the medical treatment.
Tonya felt terrible, hating herself for her clumsiness. So it seemed especially nasty of Stefanie to have a go at her.
"Try not to bash up your own players, will you?"
I sneaked a sideways look at Felik and Grigor. I felt ashamed that these Russian guys would see how useless we were.
"Seven runs!" squawked Stefanie. "Is this team for real?"
"Oh shut your big mouth, Jenkins," Nora said.
"Fine, I'll leave then," Stefanie sneered.
"Yeah, get lost."
So Stefanie stalked off the field. The ump counted how many players the Rejects had left. Then he turned to me as if I was supposed to be in charge.
"You've got only seven players," he told me like I didn't know how to count. "Under the mercy rule, I can end it there. Is that what your team wants?"
I shrugged. It wasn't up to me. But the ump kept staring, waiting for my answer. Nora butted in.
"No mercy rule," she announced, eyes flashing fiercely. "We keep playing."
The ump thought Nora was crazy but he restarted the game. I thought Nora was crazy too. Mercy seemed like a pretty good idea to me.
I must admit that Nora played her heart out. But that didn't save the game.
That's when Susan started monstering the opponent team.
"Give me that ball! Give me!" roared Susan.
The ump ran down and broke up the fight and sent her off the field.
"What?" yelled Susan. "You're sending me off? For what?"
I thought she might jump on the ump too.
"Susan," I hissed and threw her a look that said, 'don't do it.'
Susan's growling dropped to muttering and she stomped off the field.
The ump turned to me.
"Mercy rule now?"
Even Nora had to admit that it was time to put this team out of its misery.
After that horrible game, we all wanted to forget about it and that we'd never laid eyes on each other.The next training, I was thinking that no way the two Russian men would show up and want to coach a pathetic bunch of girls like us.But the next thing we knew, Felik and Grigor marched towards us."Gather around us, gals," said Felik, waving his arms at us until we formed a ring. "Don't worry about the last game. It was only a pre-season practice game. Me and Grigor, we're going to start from scratch with this team.""What?" gasped Rosie, amazed."You mean, you're volunteering to coach us?" said Nora."After what you saw?" added
The next week, the practice started with Stefanie and Nora having a screaming contest. As usual, Stefanie was being a rude, big-mouth snob. As usual, Nora was calling her out.Grigor called from the sideline."Nora. Over here."We stood frozen as we didn't expect Nora to be in trouble. WeexpectedStefanie.Nora marched across to Grigor with her chin jutting forward, defiant. She didn't like being bossed around by anyone."Why are you calling me?" Nora said defensively."Because you're a talented baseball player," Grigor said, which surprised her."Huh?"
It took a bit of persuasion to get April to play with us. Poor April. Once Felik and Grigor chose you, you didn't have much chance to refuse. Her mom didn't mind her taking sometimes for sport activity. In fact, she encouraged it because she didn't want April to spend all her free time working at the cafeteria. Besides Felik and Grigor had made the schedule easy for her to get her training, just five hours a week.April, me, Olive and the two coaches went straight from the baseball field to the Matryoskha Restaurant.We stepped out of their shiny Bentley and wondered why they brought us to this place. Felik greeted everyone as he swept us through the restaurant into the kitchen."Mitko!" he called out.I recognized the guy at the stov
Felik paced up and down the sideline. Grigor stood stock still, legs astride, arms folded, only saying a few quiet words to his boyfriend, who would then sign to us. Tip hat, touch shoulders and rub the nose. That means you should hit the ball. Scratch ear, rub hands and tip hat. It means don't hit.Each of us had memorized the signs, but I wondered if any of us remembered those codes under pressure. The pack of Russian supporters was incredibly noisy, doing a commentary all through the game in a weird mixture of Russian and English. Every time, the Rejects looked like they were doing something decent, Mitko and his friends went bananas.The parents, huddled on the sidelines, were confused, who were these crazy Russian people who didn't even have kids in the team? Why were they here cheering their heads off for players they didn't even
A wall of bodies crashed on me. Then I found myself in the air, carried by the otherslike I was a war hero. Our fans were going nuts at the sideline, chantingDarci! Darci! Darci!"Oh yes! We did it!" cheered Felik. "I knew you were gonna make us proud!"I blushed and giggled. After my teammates put me down, I saw my mom go up to Grigor."Excuse me," she said shyly to the big man. "I'm Darci's mom. I just wanted..."Grigor surprised her by grabbing her hand in his and shook it firmly with gratitude. Felik joined him."Did you see your daughter out there?" he said. "What a wonderful baseball player she is!"The mo
There was a lot of truth in Olive's words. I turned to Charlotte who was fussing over her camera. She was right there -only a few feet away, but she might as well have been on the other side of the moon and all I could do was look."I guess we just don't have it, Olive," I said to her."Well, unlike you, I have tried talking to Nora," she said and tossed the ball to me. "She handles herself so cool. And I'm there sweating like a pig, screaming panic in my head, some idiotic blah blah coming out of my mouth. You have a better chance than me, Darci."I was just as a romantic hopeless as she was, and I didn't know why she had so much faith in me."Hey! You girls are here, too?"We turne
Over the last couple of years, Mom had stopped coming to my baseball games. She said it made her 'too tense.'Now she seemed to show interest in seeing me play. I guessed she probably felt bad, because Dad went to coach the Blue Belles, and there was no one to come to my games.Felik and Grigor found out that we were training on our own almost every day and started bringing their friends to help us. Mitko would work with April and Olive on pitching and catching. But we also got Zoya (the young woman who gave us ice cream and turned out to be a very classy hitter). They'd divide us into small groups and work on particular skills.At first, there were just five of us show up. Then Rosie, Susan, and even Harper came. Stefanie was the last to join. She accused us of trying to exclude her f
The Reject players warmed up on the field, urged on by a cage fighter-looking man and a baseball mafia member.The mob of noisy Russian supporters passing around food. Zoya went straight up to Mom and offered her some Russian biscuits and cakes on a tray. Mom pointed me out - that one is my daughter. Zoya gushed and carried on, giving free treats."Here they are!Moya komanda!My team!" Mitko whooped in excitement. He had hooped up an espresso coffee machine with electric cords and water hoses."What does everyone want?" he said, throwing his arms wide. "Cappucino, latte, cocoa?"Mom stared with her mouth hanging open, amazed.Mitko bowed to her with a flourish. "G