With so many strangers on the field, Coach didn't stick around. He just reminded us that we still have practice tomorrow then left with the other coaches. Only Mr. Miller hung around, trying to herd everyone off his precious field so he could put some work in.
Noah and I packed up and caught up to the limping Dave just as he reached our parents and Grampa.
Dave gave Grampa a sad face. "Look. You're a lucky charm. Every time you come to watch Kyle pitch, he does so well. I pitch, you don't come, and I get hurt."
"David." Mom said sternly.
Grampa rubbed his chin. "No, Mary, he's got a point. I've seen a lot of good games so far this year." He reached out to pat Dave on the shoulder. "Next game you pitch, I'll be there. Home or away. Rain or shine. I can't carry the blame of you getting hurt all the time. Your grandmother would be angry at me."
Noah laughed and looked to Dave. "What will be your excuse if he is there and you mess up?"
