Sophomore Campaign Read Online Free PDF Page B

or the sound of legions of worshippers bellowing your name in tribal recitation. Yes, Murph knew the look, and the doubtless ruminations behind it. Baseball fever. It was a wonderful affliction. That night, under a winking moon many miles away, Mickey turned and fired his final ball to the delight of the crowd while Murph smiled, took a deep breath of crisp air, and nodded confidently in Woody’s direction.

SPRING TRAINING—1949
    The eager sun stretched and yawned before giving itself over completely to the beckoning earth, dropping yellow ribbons of warmth that fell from the sky like heavenly breaths, rousing everything in their wake. The grass at Borchert Field, tiny soft shoots that had slipped quietly out of the awakening ground, winked now with knowing approval and danced gaily in the temperate breeze. All around, the distant song of yawning birds and the sweet redolence of lilac and wisteria thrilled the air and settled gently across the pristine diamond, bathing the ballpark in warming splashes of familiar brilliance.
    The players felt it too. It had been a long, cold, lonely winter. They arrived that morning with swollen bags and impatient hearts, like orphan sons, returned at last to their mother. This was home. The ballpark. The one place in the world that mattered. The one place in the world that did not morph in the tumult of the universe. It was safe, predictable. Each smiled as he stepped onto the field and filled his lungs with the seasonal sweetness, stirring in each of them the latent mysticism that flagged all of their hearts and ushering them back to life.
    Yes, life was beginning, all over again; it was baseball season.
    â€œHe’s only playing as long as
he
wants to, Arthur,” Molly said, trailing behind both Murph and Mickey as they made their way to the locker room. “We have an agreement, understand? I still do not like this. Not one bit. And I swear to God, if he is unhappy, and you do not tell me about it, I’ll—”
    Murph could barely hear her over the galloping of his heart. “Yeah, Molly. Sure. Absolutely. I told you. Whatever he wants. For sure.”
    Life for Murph was starting all over again as well. And not just his existence as baseball manager, which had all but been extinguished with the belief that Mickey was going to hang up his spikes for good. It was Molly too. They had only talked briefly about making their union formal once she was free legally from Clarence. Of starting over again, fresh. They both agreed they’d have to wait. That they would just take it slow—one day at a time. But the night they consummated their relationship, everything changed.
    He had taken her in his arms, under a moon that was slowly sinking into insignificance, and felt the warmth beneath her clothes. She was still a married woman, and had no real right even being there, with him, but she needed him as badly, as he did her. They both knew it.
    The kiss was awkward at first, the two of them fumbling blindly with a passion both mastering and uncharted. “Let’s go inside,” she said, drawing a gasping breath. Murph could only stare at her, paralyzed by the startling emotion behind her words.
    Afterward, they lay there together, their legs intertwined, heads resting up against each other. Although Murph’s stomach growled, he felt full, as if all that he would ever need had already been provided. With his eyes closed, he listened to Molly’s breathing and delighted in the warmth of her soft skin. Once or twice the harmony was disrupted by Molly fidgeting in the sheets.
    â€œIs everything okay?” he asked her.
    She drew in a deep breath of air and propped herself up on one elbow, sliding the pillow underneath for support. “You ever think about the future, Arthur?” she asked.
    He locked his hands behind his head and cleared his throat. “Are you kidding? That’s
all
I do. That’s all any baseball man ever does. But