All of Brightsport must have turned out for the championship game. Zach Neal had his own cheering section, with two little kids holding up signs telling Zach to “Mow ’em Down” and “Mangle the Rangers.” As the visiting team, the Red Sox took batting practice first. The crowd greeted every hit with a roar. The Rangers’ side of the field was a lot more reserved than the Red Sox’s, and I was glad. Danielle had already put enough pressure on us. Jose and I tossed the ball back and forth along the left-field foul line while we waited our turn at batting practice. Jimmy Lee stood by the fence swinging a bat at dragonflies, and Danielle lay in the grass looking at the sky, popping bubble gum on her face. Game day was comfortable, almost cool. It was a refreshing change from the humidity of the last few days—a perfect day for baseball. “So, you really going to be the Colts’ batboy?” Jose asked. “Yep,” I said, “But just for the home games. I won’t go on the road unless we make it to the playoffs.”
