An ongoing exercise in creative nonfiction.
As we approach the climax of our baseball saga—aptly coinciding with this year's World Series between the Arizona Diamondbacks and the Texas Rangers—I want to commend the Minnesota Twins for their spirited effort this season. We eternally hopeful Minnesota baseball fans are already counting the days until next year's first pitch.
On the craft side of the ledger, we've arrived at a pivotal juncture: the conclusion of the drafting stage in our creative nonfiction exercise. Stay tuned as we transition this draft into a polished manuscript.
In upcoming segments, I'll guide you through the nuanced stages of editing, from developmental to content editing, then to copyediting, and finally to the meticulous art of proofreading.
Now, let's dive into our grand finale.
“You wanna get Capone? Here's how you get him. He pulls a knife, you pull a gun. He sends one of yours to the hospital, you send one of his to the morgue! That's the Chicago way, and that's how you get Capone!” —Jimmy Malone to Eliot Ness The Untouchables
You wanna get Coach Jax? Here’s how you get him. He steals bases, you steal runs. He plays his version of “small ball” with his weak-hitting Lollipop Guild, you play a little “chin music” to his powerful Murderers’ Row. That’s the Rocky way, and that’s how you get his Swaggers!
Monday morning of tournament week had arrived. Coach Tommy discussed over the phone with his counterpart Jerry their strategy. They had prepared the team for the week-long double-elimination event, which would kick off at 6 o'clock that evening, and culminate the following Sunday in a championship showdown.
If they played their cards right and managed their pitchers correctly, they should be in great position at the very end to beat their main rival for the BAA Youth Baseball Championship—the Swaggers.
Tommy couldn't have been more pleased with the trajectory of the season. His ragtag Rockies had remained neck and neck throughout with Coach Jax's slick and formidable Swagger machine. A tough loss at the end of the regular season had kept his team both humble and hungry entering the all-important tournament.
The tournament's structure was as follows:
1. All teams would start in the winners' bracket with games on Monday.
2. A loss in the winners' bracket would send the team to the losers' bracket, from which they would be eliminated after a second loss.
3. The winners' bracket would continue as a single-elimination tournament until one team remained to compete in the championship finale.
4. Likewise, the losers' bracket would proceed until a single team emerged to face off against the winners' bracket champion.
5. The championship round required the winners' bracket champion to win just one game, whereas the losers' bracket champion would need to secure two consecutive victories.
6. Should the losers' bracket champion win the first game on Championship Sunday, a second, decisive rematch would determine the overall champion.
This double-elimination format was designed to reduce the chances of a team being eliminated due to a fluke or an upset, as they were granted a second chance. It also increased the likelihood that the top two teams would remain standing at the end, and Tommy fully expected that to be his Rockies and those dastardly Swaggers.
Earlier that season during the league's mandatory coaching clinic, seasoned coaches had advised the greener ones like Tommy to manage their pitchers' tournament workload judiciously. During the tournament, each pitcher would be limited to 50 pitches per game and could throw a maximum of 125 pitches throughout the tournament. Overusing the star pitchers early would leave a team severely depleted when it most mattered at the end.
Moreover, an undefeated team reaching the championship through the winners' bracket would have a distinct pitching advantage over its losers' bracket challenger. Having played one fewer game, their pitchers would have more a games-worth of remaining pitches left in in the tank, while their challenger would be running practically on empty.
For the first matchup, the Rockies were slated to play the Dirt Dwellers, a team with the league's second-worst regular-season record. The winner would be rewarded with a day off, while the loser would face elimination the following night in the dreaded losers' bracket.
The game would take place on the same Tarnation Elementary field where the Rockies held their first season practice. Tommy's decision to start an inexperienced pitcher in Tyrus was tested early, as they fell behind 6 to 1 in the first inning. The Rocky players looked a little frazzled and pale, but were comforted and emboldened when they saw the calm, cool demeanor of their two coaches.
Clapping, smiling, and genuinely unfazed by the "rocky" start, Tommy trusted the strategy he and Jerry had implemented. True to form, the Rockies rallied over the course of the next two innings to score ten runs and shut down their opponents for the rest of the way. They added another five runs in the final two innings to seal a decisive 15 to 6 win.
In Wednesday's game, the Rockies faced the crosstown Claw Hammers, a team they had met just once during the regular season. In that initial contest, the Rockies had been shorthanded due to family vacations but had still managed to come out on top.
The Claw Hammers, a quintessential up-and-down team, predictably finished the regular season in the middle of the pack with a .500 record. Unlike the previous matchup, the Rockies would be fielding their full lineup and strode onto the field with confidence.
This time, the Claw Hammers brought their A-game. The game evolved into a tightly contested battle. In the final inning, the Claw Hammers seemed poised for a rally with two men on base.
Tommy was prepared and called upon his secret weapon: relief pitcher Killer. With a fresh arm, Killer lived up to his name. He dispatched the next three batters in succession, clinching the win with a called third strike against Isaac, one of the league's top hitters.
The result was a tight 12 to 11 win for the Rockies, serving as a valuable trial run for challenges ahead. Tommy, ever the fierce competitor, respected the valiant effort put forth by their worthy opponent.
That night, Tommy examined the online bracket and noticed that the Swaggers had also emerged victorious, thereby cementing their place in Saturday's showdown at the storied Kent Hrbek Ball Fields in Bloomington. As the losers' bracket narrowed on Thursday and Friday, Tommy understood that defeating the Swaggers would likely pave the way for a rematch on Sunday—assuming, of course, that the Swaggers prevailed in that night's losers' bracket contest.
Not only would a win put the Rockies in the enviable position of requiring just one more victory, thanks to their zero-loss record, but it would also allow them to field a fresher pitching roster due to one less game played—a nuanced yet vital advantage seasoned coaches had emphasized at the season's start. Best of all, it would be a meaningful one-two punch to cleanse the palate of all those bitter defeats at the hands of the Swaggers.
The game commenced with promise. Mac, the Rockies' leadoff hitter, fired up the team with an opening triple. Ernie followed by earning a walk and stealing a base. Stan then came through with a clutch two-run single. Although the Swaggers counterattacked, the Rockies' ace pitchers effectively neutralized the Swaggers' notorious Lollipop Guild at the top of the batting order.
Tommy's famous "soup-can" drills, repeated to the point of utter monotony, had honed Killer's accuracy, resulting in a sequence of called third strikes that left the trio impotent.
Tommy's tactical decision to pitch high and tight to the Swaggers' heavy hitters limited them to just two runs. The middle of the Rockies' lineup was now primed to respond.
Tris, Tommy's son, led off with a walk. His sparkling eyes signaled readiness for base-running mischief. After swiping second and third, Tris watched as Reggie, notorious for ignoring Tommy's golden rule about high pitches, stepped into the batter's box with a count of two balls, no strikes.
Anticipating Reggie's impulsiveness when excited, Tommy wasn't surprised when Reggie tomahawked—and connected with—a pitch well above his head. His double brought Tris around to score, giving the Rockies the lead.
The Swaggers responded with defensive finesse, converting three Rockies at-bats into outs. First, Gabby's line drive was snagged, resulting in one out and keeping Reggie at second. Then, Mickey's short fly ball was spectacularly caught by the Swaggers' diving outfielder for the second out. Finally, Calvin's grounder was easily fielded and thrown to first for the third out.
The Rockies clung to a 9 to 8 lead as they entered the bottom of the final inning. Tommy called on Mac to close out the game. A spectacular play by Jonathan at shortstop and a diving catch by Reggie in foul territory put the Rockies within one out of victory. But then the Swaggers' Lollipop Guild returned, and Mac's strikes dwindled. After a game of merry-go-round the bases, the score was tied up, and up next was the Swaggers' mighty cleanup hitter, Walter. With a disciplined approach, he managed to push the count to three balls and one strike—in the game's parlance, what's known as a "hitter's count."
Tommy called for a timeout and headed to the mound for a visit. Mac, visibly shaken, listened as Tommy offered words intended to calm and refocus him. However, Tommy's customary mound "voodoo" failed to have its usual effect. The subsequent pitch missed the strike zone, culminating in ball four and allowing the Swaggers' winning run to cross the plate.
Tommy addressed his team, "OK, guys, let's line up and shake hands."
Before the evening showdown against the Sea Puppies—the game that would determine who would advance from the losers' bracket to face the Swaggers on Sunday—Tommy found himself enveloped in an unusual emotional calm. It was as if his characteristic intensity had temporarily stepped aside, granting him a rare emotional breather. Given the potential mental health toll of maintaining his typical level of zeal through back-to-back games, he was grateful for this psychological reprieve.
As the game unfolded, Tommy found himself coasting through the familiar rigors of coaching, his enthusiasm coming in sporadic bursts. At times, he functioned almost purely on instinct, as if operating in a "lizard brain" state—a psychobabble term for when a man acts on his pure, instinctual responses, when he is emotionally or mentally drained. Remarkably, this was enough. The Rockies clinched a decisive win against the Sea Puppies, showing mastery in every aspect of the game: pitching, defense, hitting, and baserunning. The victory was so commanding that Tommy didn't even concern himself with the final score, which he recalled as something in the ballpark of 19 to 12, or possibly 18 to 11.
After the win, Tris left with Peg for a pre-bedtime snack from a nearby convenience store, leaving Tommy alone to pack up the gear into his sedan. Under the subdued illumination of the adjacent ballfield lights, he found himself the last car in the lot, still encased in his strange emotional stasis. Oddly enough, the managerial strategies that usually filled his mind the night before the next ballgame were notably missing.
Returning home, Tommy discovered that his family, including Tris, had already turned in for the night. The Rockies' victory had paved the way for another confrontation with their season-long rivals, the Swaggers. Faced with high stakes—either lose and see the season end, or win and face the Swaggers yet again under the league's double-elimination format—Tommy was pragmatic. His top pitchers might be running low on fuel, but he banished any thoughts of defeat. Win or lose, he was determined to guide his Rockies through a gallant contest right up to the season's closing moments.
Could they achieve what had eluded them all season and finally best the Swaggers—not just once, but twice, on the same day?
Arriving at noon for the 1:30 game, Tommy chose to lead the Rockies' final batting practice himself, even though he usually delegated the role to a parent assistant. Just as he relished this last opportunity to prepare his team directly, he heard a familiar voice.
"Dad?"
Tommy looked up from his clipboard, catching sight of his son Tris standing at the entrance of the dugout. Tris's eyes, normally alight with youthful enthusiasm, now seemed clouded with disappointment and hesitance.
Tommy set his clipboard aside. "What's up, buddy? We're about to start batting practice. You ready?"
Tris shifted his weight from one foot to the other, a clear sign of discomfort. "Um, not really. Can we talk?"
Tommy's brows furrowed as he stood. "Of course. What's on your mind?"
Tris took a deep breath, as if mustering courage. "Can you—I mean, could you please try not to embarrass me again?"
The air seemed to go quiet around Tommy, even though it was filled with the usual pre-game bustle of Little Leaguers. He recalled a moment in last night's game against the Sea Puppies, a cringe-worthy scene he had been blocking out to deal with at a later time.
Like it or not, now was that later time.
Flashbacks flickered through Tommy's mind: standing at home plate was his perpetual umpiring nemesis, Tripp—reversing an "out" call that Tommy was certain was incorrect.
From the dugout, even in his heightened "lizard brain" state, Tommy couldn't ignore the fact that Mickey had tagged the Sea Puppy baserunner well before he slid into third. In that moment, fueled by tension, Tommy had yelled, "He tagged him out!"—igniting a cascade of escalating confrontations.
A fan from the Sea Puppies, who had been heckling Tommy throughout the game, shouted, "Toss the bum out!" The "bum" in question was Tommy.
Undeterred, Tommy exited the dugout, leveling an accusatory finger at the heckler and retorting, "You stay out of it, buddy!"
The heckler appeared taken aback, as though he had jeered at Earl Weaver during NBC's Game of the Week and had received a shout in return through the television screen.
This spurred the Sea Puppies' third-base coach to interject, "Dude, chill—you're winning."
Yet Tommy remained agitated, feeling besieged—a sensation all too familiar, stemming from his years as the youngest child in a large family.
As he turned back toward the dugout, his agitation was palpable. Jerry, his reliable moral compass, gestured for him to cool off.
Still, the Sea Puppies' third-base coach persisted from behind, repeating, "Chill out, dude, chill out."
Grimacing, Tommy collapsed back into his dugout seat, face flushed and teeth clenched. These were reflexive actions, deeply embedded in his Irish ancestry—relics of the Viking conquerors who once ruled Northern Ireland and were not exactly renowned for emotional restraint.
The episode underscored the perils of acting solely on instinct; Tommy's innate response had been to retaliate, much like a tempestuous Norse-Irish warrior.
At the end of the bench, sitting out this inning, was the lovable, sweet-natured José, who the Rockies had nicknamed Pepito. Blinking at Tommy through his coke-bottle classes, he looked perplexed—and somewhat fascinated—by all the drama. Like most things related to baseball before this season, this was an entirely new and unfamiliar experience for little Pepito.
And then, standing in the field next to first base, there was Tris. He looked away in embarrassment, unable to bear the spectacle his father had created.
Now, standing before his son on the verge of another high-stakes game, Tommy felt the full gravity of Tris's words, begging him not to embarrass him again. This moment wasn't merely about the championship; it was about being a role model for his son and the other young athletes he was responsible for.
"I promise I'll behave today," Tommy assured, softly ruffling Tris's hair before the boy ran off to join his teammates.
Alone for a moment, clipboard forgotten, Tommy stood still. The stakes of the championship suddenly seemed inconsequential, even trivial, compared to the more significant challenge of nurturing his relationship with his maturing son.
Both teams took the field, primed for competition and eager to create memories that would last a lifetime. As the early afternoon sun bathed Hrbek's Ball Field Number One—a grand stage for their accomplishments to come—Tommy and the other coaches transitioned from active participants to impartial witnesses, captivated by both teams' laser-sharp focus.
In baseball terminology, nearly every player on the Rockies had an exceptional performance. Mac went three for three—all singles—stealing four bases and scoring two runs. In a daring move, he was tagged out trying to stretch a single into a double. Still, his audacity allowed Jonathan to score a vital run from second base.
Living up to his nickname, Killer delivered his finest pitching performance yet, allowing just one run while hitting his maximum allowed pitches for the tournament.
Yet it was Tris, Tommy's son, who most captivated the crowd with his daring exploits. He stole second, third, and home on three consecutive pitches.
The steal of home was a particularly improbable masterstroke, involving a complex game of cat and mouse with the pitcher and catcher. Tris's athletic maneuvering to evade the tag at home plate was nothing short of breathtaking.
Tommy's heart stopped for a moment when it seemed Tris had made a fatal error. Yet, with uncanny agility, his son dodged a would-be tag, completing a spectacular leap over the catcher to touch home plate. The umpire's call of "Safe!" was met with elation; Tris's teammates swarmed him as if the Rockies had already won the championship.
With their best pitcher, Ernie, now on the mound, Tommy felt a surge of confidence. His trust wasn't misplaced. Despite some nail-biting moments, including a home run by the Swaggers that made it a three-run game, Ernie closed out the inning with masterful pitching.
The final out was made. The Rockies had won, 9 to 6. There would be another game, a decisive one for the BAA Youth League Baseball Championship.
Tommy couldn't help but feel a wave of emotion as he looked at his jubilant team. For the first time this season, they had defeated the only team to best them, the mighty Swaggers.
They had not only won the game; they had also learned invaluable lessons about resilience, teamwork, and the beauty of the sport. And for Tommy, the most significant victory was the one off the field—earning his son's respect and realizing the profundity of his role as both a father and a coach.
CODA
Tommy sat alone at the end of the dugout, contentedly watching the grounds crew prepare the field for the last game of the BAA youth baseball season. Though he harbored realistic expectations about the Rockies' chances for another win, he felt the most meaningful battle had already been won—a victory that highlighted his team's true character.
However, the Rockies themselves weren't satisfied. Driven by the tournament's double-elimination format, their focus remained unwavering. Tommy sensed an undeniable optimism radiating from his players.
By this stage, the Rockies were so receptive to coaching that they appeared to function as a finely tuned machine on the field. Their situational awareness was unparalleled, and they managed to keep pace with the Swaggers even though fatigue was taking its toll on both teams. Locked in a 14 to 14 tie after four innings, the exhaustion began favoring the hitters over the pitchers.
When the Rockies' pitching resources finally ran dry, Coach Jax seized the moment and sent in his ace, Brockton, a pitcher who consistently threw fastballs exceeding 60 miles per hour.
The Swaggers reverted to form, accumulating four more runs through walks. Yet, the Rockies rallied to load the bases with two outs in the top of the sixth inning. With the Swaggers set to bat last on the neutral field, Tommy knew the game was all but over. Nevertheless, he kept this insight to himself.
As Pepito prepared to face Brockton, Tommy called for time and walked over from first base.
"Remember, meet the ball in front of the plate," he advised, placing one arm around Pepito's shoulders. And if it's above your head—"
"Don't swing!" Pepito interrupted, smiling.
"Exactly," Tommy affirmed, patting Pepito's back. "You've got this, Pepito!"
In that moment, Pepito's bespectacled eyes met Tommy's, and he softly whispered, "I love you, coach."
Startled, Tommy felt in that fleeting second as if the world had shifted beneath him. "You know something?—I love you too, Pepito," he replied sincerely before heading down the basepath to coach first base.
Tommy then glanced toward the dugout and noticed his son Tris, his face flushed with pride. A silent but powerful acknowledgment passed between them, reaffirming that Tommy had stayed true to his word.
He had not embarrassed his son, nor himself.
As Pepito returned to the batter's box, his face beamed with a smile as genuine as the affectionate bond he and his coach had just shared—with all due appreciation, and love, to America's great pastime.
THE END
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