Ginny's father told her "ballplayers are creatures of habit" and did everything he could to instill good ones in her. The higher the level she played, the more she realized the truth of his words. Here in the majors, disruptions to routine could be devastating. On the other hand, she knew there was a fine line between keeping a routine and falling into a rut. Sometimes you needed to break things up.
Today, two days after her last start, Ginny was in her routine. She was in the video room using the big screen to self scout. This was one of her least favorite parts of preparation. She hated watching herself. It needed to be done, just to make sure she wasn't tipping pitches or throwing them in a predictable pattern. She'd gone over the analytics earlier and her distribution looked good. Now she was looking at her movement on the mound to see if there were tells as to what pitch was coming.
"Miss Baker?"
Ginny paused the video and turned her head to see who the unfamiliar voice belonged to. It was a man Ginny had seen somewhere before. He was white, about 5'8, and skinny. She guessed him to be 20 or 21 years old, just a couple of years younger than her. Then it clicked, he worked here. He was part of the locker room staff. She wasn't sure if she had ever spoken to him before. She was sure she did not know his name.
"Yes?" She stood up from her chair as her mother had insisted she do when talking to someone. As she continued to look at the young man she could see he was very nervous about something. He was almost shaking and he had barely come into the room. She wondered if he was bringing some kind of bad news for her.
He spoke hesitantly, almost as if he was afraid to say the words; "I...I wanted to ask you a personal question."
Ginny tensed. Her experiences with the locker room staff had not been positive. A couple of them had been fired: one had been stealing her underwear and another was caught trying to install a hidden camera in her shower. She had every reason to expect the worst here.
The man continued, even more haltingly. He seemed to be having to force the words out; "I...have an extra ticket to...a concert...it's a band called Mipso...a week from Saturday...Would you like to...go...with me?"
This was the last thing Ginny had expected. She was so relieved it was nothing serious she nearly laughed. She caught herself, realizing that laughing in this poor guy's face after he gathered up enough courage to come in here and ask her out might well be a blow that would scar him for life. She needed to say something, but she was so thrown by the question she was unsure of the proper response. She tried to buy some time; "I'm sorry, I don't remember your name."
He seemed stunned at this non-answer answer. "My name is Jeffrey Thomas." He paused, then started talking a mile a minute, revealing how carefully he had planned this encounter; "Iaskedtodaybecauseit'sThursdayandyouweren'tstartinganditwouldn'tmessupyourgamepreparationandyournotstartingnextSaturdayorSundayandtheteamhasadaygameSaturdayandtheconcertisateightsoitshouldn'tbeanissuewiththeschedule." Ginny was still trying to parse his word stream when he suddenly shifted gears; "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have bothered you. Forget I said anything." He turned to leave.
"Wait, come back." Ginny felt he deserved an answer even if it wasn't the one he wanted.
He came back in the room. Now he was shaking and his breathing was irregular. Ginny thought he might hyperventilate.
"Come over here and sit down before you faint." She motioned to the chair next to where she had been sitting, then sat back down herself.
He hesitated, then did as she asked. Ginny got the feeling he hadn't really planned for anything other than outright rejection.
"OK, Jeffrey, you gave me a lot to process there and it came out of the blue. I just needed a second to sort it all out."
His face had turned to a mask of abject horror. Ginny could tell he was ready to freak out at the possibility she might say yes.
"Thank you for asking me. That's really sweet. I just don't think it's appropriate for me to date someone who works for the team."
"I'll quit."
"What?" Now she did laugh, a joyful and melodic sound that would melt the heart of any man.
"I'm serious. This is just a temp job. I'm done as soon as the season is over. I could give up the last six weeks, no problem. I only got this job because my aunt and uncle live next door to Ray." She knew he was referring to Ray Manley, the locker room manager.
"I'm trying to let you down easy, Jeffrey. Just tell me you didn't buy these tickets expecting me to say yes."
"My girlfriend loves Mipso. I got them for her."
"You have a girlfriend? And she loves this band I've never heard of? Does she know you're asking me to go?"
"Yeah. You're the most beautiful woman I've ever seen. I told her I had to take a shot. She said she was OK with it. I think she expected you to reject me out of hand."
Ginny blushed, though Jeffrey couldn't tell. She knew people considered her attractive, but it still embarrassed her when people said it out loud. "Sounds like she really cares for you. I think you should take her to the show. What's her name?"
"Mandy."
"Get your phone out. I want to say something to her."
Jeffrey complied and began recording.
"Hi, Mandy, this is Ginny. Your boyfriend Jeffrey is a special guy. Treat him right and make sure he does the same for you. Have fun at the concert."
He stopped the recording and put his phone away.
"OK, Jeffrey, I have work to do and I'm sure you do to."
After he was gone, Ginny used her phone to find some music by Mipso. Not the sort of thing she normally listened to, but she recognized quality when she heard it. She returned to her self scouting as 'Red Eye to Raleigh' flowed through the speaker.