June, 1986
She was free as a picture
She was sharper than a photograph
She was everything I needed
And her smile, and the way she laugh
Nick had caught the video of that deep cut from The Firm’s second album at Vance’s apartment earlier in the spring but could only zero in on Paul Rogers’ smooth haircut and maybe the fact that the synth production takes every bit of bite out of Jimmy Page’s guitar. The wandering fretless bass by Tony Franklin sounds too cool but their pounder, the eternal Chris Slade is bald as a cue - is that on purpose?
But Deej had mentioned a church teen coed softball game there in town and Nick couldn’t resist a bike ride to check things out. He had been inside the large Baptist tabernacle at events and they also had the lot large enough for two diamonds. And speaking of diamonds…she was already warming up with a catcher so Nick grabs a spot against the fence. Some of the players look familiar from around town but none from his own little church, very little constituency these days in his age group.
He also spots her parents and little sister over in the bleachers but prefers to stay put for the moment. In fact he’s almost hoping to stay below radar till after the game but we’ll see what shakes, so far just several rows of pitch and catch, folks showing up with lawn chairs, assorted kittle-lids running about. It’s a warm, wistful weekday evening, of course, a tad humid and breezy but the hazy sky and wispy cloud cover gives things a dreamy quality. Tim had wanted to come along but Nick gave him the slip, and so, there's a small threat that situation could still manifest at some point.
While taking it all in he hears his name and jumps slightly only to fixate, on a tall summer dream in a reddish-blond ponytail running toward him with a glove and electric grin, she stops about 20 feet away,
“Hey dork, go sit with my parents.”
Nick pauses, then gets up. “So much for fading into the scenery.”
Her gaze lingers to the point where that doesn’t realize his own gaze lingers, until she turns around,
“Alright, we’re about to do prayer, get your <mouths> ass over there,” motioning to the bleachers and punctuates it with a determined look before heading back toward their bench.
I got a feelin' when I look into your eyes
I think I know what's on your mind…
Nick walks his bike closer to the bleachers, throws it beneath and eases down about a seat and a half from Nancy Eversole and stays quiet. The team huddles in what appears to be the prayer, and before long he hears Dean,
“Hey Nick, glad you could come out.”
“Hi guys,” Nick looks over to see Dean switching places with his wife and so he scoots closer.
“You could probably play tonight if you wanted.”
“Well, maybe if they want to lose…”
This gets a laugh. Their conversation goes along the lines of track and bicycling. Dean actually enjoys running, which to Nick makes his stints with junior high track team seem like work. Naturally Dean goes into the mandatory dad-spiel about how team sports build character as Nick’s slide into hopelessness deepens by the second. At least Tim will be less likely to come around in this situation, but deep down it feels like Deej set him up to get the full frame of her life.
At some point Nick senses a little face staring at him, actually a little face making quite a crazy face, framed in a wispy blond haircut. Nick grins at her before Nancy cups her hand over the crazy face and makes her straighten back up.
Dean switches to watching the game that has gone so far with their team with one hit and two outs, Deej is on deck. Next batter, male, younger than Nick but pretty competent, most likely a baseball player, smacks it low and far between right and center where it can’t be fielded, and the very capable runner at first gets home as the batter gets an easy stand-up double.
Deej steps up and Nick’s data bus is a tad too slow to take this all in, the understated beauty, the confidence, the grace, at times just plain fierce. He can’t help but wonder what the pitcher must think, even without being attracted, she just means business (yes, another reference to The Firm...). She takes a strike, in Nick’s first-ever realization that it’s how you read the zone and pitcher’s skill. Second pitch she reads as a ball, then readjusts her stance and gets ready. This next pitch is the one she bites, smacks it to the left of the previous hit and not as high but it sizzles over the second base player’s glove and Deej turns into a blur as the bench goes nuts, everyone stands up as the lead runner makes it in and she overruns first for an RBI single. But this 2-0 will have to stand, the next batter is a bit overzealous and goes down swinging, still, the inning still gets a big deserved whoop.
And so this brings up what he’s been quietly pining to witness for almost a year, she casually strides out to the mound, business as usual, seems to drag her glove, and tosses a couple practice shots. At this angle you mostly see concentration, intimidating in itself but she’s just trying to hit the glove, but still, every second crackles. Of course he’s hoping she drops the first batter but it’s an infield fly, still an out. Second batter swings herself out.
Third batter steps up and is definitely at least junior varsity and at least six foot tall. Whoa buoy. Deej understandably takes her time. First pitch is a ball. C’mon Deej. Second he takes a strike. Third pitch he smacks and before Nick knows what happened Deej gloves it, drops it on the mound and walks off. Third out. Nick has to stop himself from saying dayaaammmm before the crowd goes berserk.
“Good save honey!” yells Dean from his feet.
So this sets the pace for a game that goes the full 9 innings and ends 7-3 good guys as the evening grows more enchanting and is over way too soon. After the handshake line they all stand up and stretch, Deej gets a lot of attention after pitching the full game but makes it to the bleachers and gets a hug from her dad. After a handshake with said dad, Nick just stands by and as the family starts climbing down Deej turns to him.
“What did ya think?”
“That stop blew my mind.”
She crumples her eyebrows. “Hmm?”
“Oh in the first inning, came right at you.”
“Yeah, thanks, it’s really just a reflex.”
“I would shit.”
She chuckles and her eyes do a funny dance.
“Glad I got to see you play finally.”
She draws a breath, “I was a little nervous tonight.”
Without thinking Nick asks, “Why?”
She smiles and looks at him directly with those pale blue eyes glistening, voice softens, “I just…was.”
“Oh.”
“Well, we’re heading out…” then leans forward.
He carefully reaches for the hug but she grabs his waist and squeezes, lifting him up about half an inch momentarily, then laughs maniacally.
“God you’re strong,” Nick says quietly as she squeezes harder and laughs yet even harder.
“Yeah don’t you forget it.”
Before it lingers too long she lets go and glances around as they keep standing about 18 inches apart. “Mmm thanks for coming over, really, and I saw you talking to Dad.”
“Yeah he says team sports build character.”
“Not sure you need any more character but you can play with us if you want sometime.”
“Eeh, it takes all I got to play guitar.”
With hands on hips, “Which I have yet to hear…”
“I need to practice.”
She pokes his chest and starts to move her finger around when Dean calls her name, then she squeezes his arm,
“Gotta go, see ya soon,” then punctuates it with an expectant look as she turns to join her folks.
Nick gathers his bike from beneath the bleachers and goes for a ride, sometimes the same street several times and milks it till just about sundown.
I was going through the changes
That made me what I am today
I was looking at all the dangers
'Stead of tryin' to do it my own way..
In the coming days he would visit the town library while walking about and check out some LPs to discretely dub downstairs, among them the aforementioned Firm’s Mean Business along with Krokus and Whitesnake from a couple years back. Nick checked out Mean Business mainly after hearing All The King’s Horses on 106 at night in recent months along with Radioactive from the first album. Without fail, Tear Down The Walls, with the heavily processed guitar track, went by with barely a notice to his unseasoned ears and the album soon just became another half of a 90-minute cassette in his ever-growing collection.