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After school on Friday, we went straight home and immediately got ready to hit the road. We had just a couple of hours before Zeke's game. Grampa hesitated about coming or staying until the last minute. In the end, he gritted his teeth, put a bag in the trunk, and got in the middle row with the twins."Zeke will be happy to see you there." Noah assured Grampa as Dad started to drive.
"I couldn't risk not going and his season ending early." Grampa folded his arms across his chest and closed his eyes. "If there's no close parking, Wayne, drop me off up close."
"Will do." Dad answered.
With Grampa napping, the car ride stayed mostly silent, only picking up when Noah notified everyone that the other semifinal game came to an end; Oregon had crushed Washington and would be in the finals.
Kyle and Dave lightly discussed the lineups and what Zeke could expect tomorrow. They tried whispering but it still woke Grampa up. He didn't say much, just peering outside the window as we got closer to the school and stadium.
As expected, parking was a nightmare. Dad dropped us all off near the front before going to hunt for a parking spot. Mom took charge of our group aka made us take a bunch of pictures. We were all in our matching Stanford shirts, blending in with a majority of the crowd.
Mom picked up our tickets from the Will Call window as we let Grampa rest from the walk. She came back and we lined up for security and ticket check. Zeke somehow got us tickets just five rows back from home plate. At first I thought we would be with all the other family members of the players, but it was clear that wasn't true from the get go.
A lot of older men were around, chatting up one another, sounding like regulars. They were probably season ticket holders. At least it was a sea of maroon. Some home field advantage for having the best record in their conference.
That didn't mean there wasn't some other fans. Stanford's semifinal was Arizona and they had a couple of groups standing out here and there.
The atmosphere felt stuffy and charged at the same time. This is an elimination game. You lose, and that'll be the end of the line. It's a long road to Omaha.
"You guys good here? I'm going to go get your father." Mom checked in with us as we got settled into our seats.
"Good." We echoed one after another.
She looked at Grampa. "Want me to come back with drinks and hotdogs?"
Grampa shook his head. "I don't need anything right away. The brats probably can't wait."
Noah and the twins immediately started to nod.
I held my stomach. "I don't think I can eat right now."
"Are you seriously feeling that nervous?" Kyle asked.
"For a game you're not playing in?" Dave added.
I have a weak shrug. "I can't help it. The idea of losing and the season being over for him doesn't sit right with me."
"Just wait until they get a couple of runs on the board and you'll feel fine again." Noah told me.
"I don't think you were this nervous during our playoff games." Dave said.
"That's because Garret was in control against West Valley and then we absolutely dominated Gridley." Noah answered. "Branham was probably where he felt the worse, but even then, we had an early lead."
"Jake's not going to know how to lose very well." Kyle commented.
"It's probably just elimination games." I tried to stand up for myself. "I know I can't win them all. I just hope…to win the most important."
The three of them started to talking about the distant future, making the MLB and then what being in the postseason might be like. We saw a glimpse into it last year thanks to Jeremy.
Mom came back with Dad just before the pregame ceremonies were set to start, and they were both holding drink carriers. They passed it out stayed for the national anthem and the player announcements before going back to food.
Rhys wasn't on the mound for Stanford tonight, but we still cheered for every strike and celebrated every out. Mom and Dad came back in time for Zeke's at bat in the bottom of the first. One on, one out. He blasted an outside fastball the opposite way for a two-run homer. It felt like everyone had jumped up to bounce about.
Noah was the loudest, screaming with excitement. The twins tried to compete and I just grinned, happy for Zeke. Mom, Dad, and Grampa, were all on their feet, clapping and beaming with pride.
Stanford wasn't done with just Zeke's homer though. They showed off an impressive lineup, scoring twelve runs against Arizona, while only giving up two on defense. It was basically a hitting clinic.
We wanted to celebrate the win with Zeke, but he simply sent us a text: Not a winner yet. He was already thinking of tomorrow's game. The whole team must have. They had less than 24 hours to prepare for a championship game. If I was one of them, I probably wouldn't be able to sleep.
Thankfully, I was just a family member in the stands. We went to the hotel after the game and called it a night. I was only woken up when it was clear that I might miss the free continental breakfast provided by the hotel.
There was no clear plan for the day besides Zeke's game at 6pm so Mom let us do what we wanted in the room, even letting Dave and Noah go out for a run around the block. Kyle spent a lot of his free time calling and texting Marie. I mostly relaxed with Grampa, watching some baseball. We all reconvene to walk to a nearby restaurant for lunch and then did a little window shopping.
We left early for the game, hoping to get a better parking spot, but it wasn't happening. This place was packed once more. We wore our Stanford shirts once more and blended right in. This time, we didn't get seats behind home plate, but at least it was still behind the home team dugout.
Once again, Rhys wasn't on the mound, becoming the conversation center between the twins. Things changed though once Stanford fell 0-3 early on. The starter just wasn't performing well and was replaced in the middle of the third inning.
Rhys came jogging from the bullpen, bringing life to our little group. The crowd was a little mellow at first while losing, but things got lively when Bradley Thompson tied the game up with a three-run homer, driving in Zeke and another player.
Noah threw his arms up, excitedly. This was the exact same reaction he had when the A's were in the playoffs last year.
The game became a tug of war between the two teams with Rhys giving up a run, then Stanford scoring one right back in the bottom half of the inning. Rhys settled down and Oregon made a pitcher change of their own and the game went into a stalemate. We went into extra innings and Zeke got his chance in the bottom of the eleventh and runners on first and second, two outs. They didn't want to walk him and face Bradley Thompson with bases loaded. Zeke came through though, hitting a walk off single to deep right-center. By the time the outfielders got to it, the runner on second was already feet away from home.
He scored and swiftly ran over to first base where Zeke was. The whole team congregated there, celebrating their walk off championship win.
We stayed in the stands and celebrated with those around us. I thought we were waiting for Zeke and maybe even Rhys afterwards, but after the stadium started to empty out, Mom started to usher us to go back to the car too.
"We're not waiting for Zeke?" I asked.
"We'll pick him up tomorrow for the A's game." Mom rested her hand on top of my head, gently getting the hair out of my eyes. "We need to get you a haircut again."
"He's probably going to party with his team." Dave said.
Kyle scoffed. "Him? No way. I bet he's in bed before eleven and wakes up at dawn for his morning run."
"You don't think he would want to celebrate just a little bit?" Dave held a smidge of empty space between his thumb and forefinger.
"Not his final goal." Noah said. "He might be in a good mood and stay up with his teammates to celebrate. But he won't do anything crazy like drink or party."
"He's not drinking because he's underage." Mom said, eyeing the four of us. "And you all better not let me catch you drinking underage either or you'll be a world of trouble."
"Zeke wouldn't drink because it's bad for his baseball career." Noah pointed out. "Not because he doesn't want trouble."
"Pshhh. What a joke. He wouldn't drink no matter what. He doesn't know how to lighten up."
"Oh yea? And you do?"
The twins started to bicker. Predictably, it was put to rest by Dad.