THE BASEBALL GOAT REBORN**
Chapter 21: The Coach’s Daughter
By the end of the first week, Joshua had given up pretending he wasn’t tired.
"My legs are gone," he said, lying flat on the outfield grass with his glove over his face. "They left. They packed their bags and they’re not coming back."
"You have to run tomorrow too," Miguel said.
"Then I’ll run on my hands."
Rafael sat beside them, stretching his shoulder and watching the sun go down behind the fence. Daniel had kept his promise about conditioning. They ran in the morning, did drills in the afternoon, and finished most days with film study in the dugout, where Daniel played clips of teams from all over the region. Nobody had expected it to be easy, but nobody had expected it to be this hard either.
Rafael didn’t mind. His body was answering faster than he’d expected. His legs were getting stronger, his balance was improving, and the stiffness in his back was slowly disappearing. Alex had spent twenty years learning how to train a body, and he knew exactly how much each session should ask of it, and when to stop.
"You’re smiling," Paolo said, dropping down beside him.
"It’s a good day."
"It’s the worst day. I ran so much I saw colors."
"That means it’s working."
Paolo stared at him. "You say that like it’s a good thing."
The second week brought scrimmages. Daniel had arranged games against teams from outside the city, and the players found out quickly that every team had its own style. One team bunted at every opportunity, another stole bases constantly, and a third had a pitcher who threw sidearm and made everyone look foolish for three innings.
Rafael watched everything carefully. He didn’t try to dominate those games. He took his at-bats, made his plays in right field, and saved his energy for studying how the other teams moved. Daniel noticed, but he didn’t say anything. He only nodded once after the third scrimmage, when Rafael pointed out that the sidearm pitcher dropped his elbow before every changeup.
"You saw that?" Daniel asked.
"Yes, Coach."
"How long did it take?"
"Two innings."
Daniel studied him for a moment, then looked down at his notes. "Next time, tell the team sooner."
"Yes, Coach."
Mia found him at the school gate that Friday afternoon. She was carrying a gym bag, and her hair was still wet from practice.
"You look terrible," she said.
"Thanks."
"I mean it nicely."
Rafael smiled. "How’s volleyball?"
"Coach is making us do jump drills until we cry." She shifted the bag to her other shoulder. "How’s baseball?"
"Coach is making us run until we cry."
They laughed together, and for a moment it felt like the easiest thing in the world. Then Mia glanced at her phone.
"I have to go. But we should eat together after DAVRAA starts, if our schedules allow."
"I’d like that."
She smiled and walked away. Rafael watched her go, then realized Joshua was standing a few steps behind him with an enormous grin.
"Don’t."
"I didn’t say anything."
"You were about to."
"I was about to say that you two are very organized about your breaks."
Rafael walked past him without answering.
On the other side of the city, Vanessa Cruz was staring at her father across the dinner table.
"Dad. You’ve said his name eleven times."
Daniel looked up from his plate. "Whose name?"
"Rafael."
"I haven’t said it eleven times."
"I counted." Vanessa leaned back in her chair and picked up her water glass. "Since you started eating, you’ve talked about his swing, his eyes, his instincts, the way he reads pitchers, and something about how he notices things nobody else notices."
Daniel scratched the back of his neck. "He’s an unusual player."
"So you’ve said."
"I’m serious. I’ve coached for twenty years, and I’ve never seen a seventeen-year-old like him."
Vanessa studied him. She was twenty-seven, with her father’s sharp eyes and a calm, professional way of speaking that she had learned in boardrooms. After spending years building a career at Cruzstone Properties, she was used to people trying to impress her. Her father wasn’t trying to impress anyone. He was just excited.
She hadn’t seen him like this in a long time.
After her mother’s passing and after Daniel had stepped back from the sport for years, baseball had become a subject he didn’t talk about. Now it filled every dinner conversation. He talked about lineups, defensive plays, and pitch counts, and he kept a small notebook beside his plate in case he thought of something.
"He’s that good?" she asked.
"He’s that good."
"Better than the kids you’ve coached before?"
Daniel thought about it. "It’s not about better. It’s different. He doesn’t play like a student. He plays like someone who has done this for a very long time."
Vanessa raised an eyebrow. "That’s a strange thing to say about a teenager."
"I know."
"What’s his family like?"
Daniel hesitated. "Good people. The father works long hours. The mother runs a small food business. There’s a younger sister." He paused. "They had a hard year. Rafael was in an accident a while back, and the hospital bills were serious. I think they’re still paying for it."
Vanessa said nothing for a moment.
She turned the water glass slowly in her hand. She had spent years in a business where information mattered, and she had learned to listen for what people didn’t say. Her father cared about this boy, and he was also worried about him.
"How’s he handling it?" she asked.
"Better than most adults would."
"That’s not an answer."
Daniel sighed. "He doesn’t complain. He shows up early and leaves late. He never asks for anything." He looked at her. "That’s what bothers me."
Vanessa nodded slowly. She didn’t say what she was thinking. She only picked up her fork.
"I’d like to see him play," she said.
Daniel blinked. "You want to come to a game?"
"A scrimmage. Saturday?"
He smiled so quickly that she almost laughed.
"I’ll tell the team."
Saturday morning was warm and bright. Rafael was in the outfield stretching when Daniel waved him over to the dugout.
"I want you to meet someone."
A woman stood near the bench with her arms folded loosely and her sunglasses pushed into her hair. She wore simple clothes, but there was something about her posture that made Rafael think of someone who was used to being listened to. She looked at him with open curiosity, but not in the way fans usually did.
"Rafael, this is my daughter, Vanessa."
"Nice to meet you," Rafael said.
"Likewise." Vanessa shook his hand. Her grip was firm. "My father says you’re the reason he’s been talking about baseball again."
Rafael glanced at Daniel, who looked slightly embarrassed. "I think the whole team is the reason."
"That’s what he says too, but he says it differently when you’re not in the room."
Daniel cleared his throat. "Vanessa."
"I’m just telling the truth."
Rafael tried not to laugh. He had met many people in his first life, and he recognized the type: confident, quick, and very careful about what she said. She wasn’t a journalist, and she wasn’t a fan. She was someone who evaluated things for a living.
"Do you play?" Rafael asked.
"Not really. I learned the rules growing up, and I watch when my father makes me." She smiled. "I work in property development."
"Cruzstone Properties," Daniel said proudly.
"It’s a small company."
"It’s not small."
"Dad."
Rafael watched the exchange with quiet amusement. He thought of Elena and Manuel and the way they teased each other across the dinner table. Families were the same everywhere, in every language.
"I’ll be watching today," Vanessa said. "I won’t get in the way."
"You won’t," Rafael said. "Just don’t blame me if Joshua starts showing off."
"Who’s Joshua?"
"The one who’s about to trip over his own feet."
Across the field, Joshua had just done exactly that. Vanessa laughed out loud, and Daniel shook his head.
The scrimmage went the way Rafael expected. His teammates played well, and the other team fought hard. Rafael went two for three with a double and a sharp single, and he made one running catch in right field that earned a shout from Miguel in center.
He kept his playing calm. Daniel had told him not to try to impress anyone, and Rafael agreed. A scrimmage wasn’t the place to show everything.
But he noticed Vanessa watching.
She sat on the bench near the dugout with a notebook in her lap, and she wasn’t writing about baseball. She was watching the way the players moved, how they talked, how the dugout reacted when Rafael came to bat. Once, he caught her looking at the old glove resting on the bench beside him. The leather was cracked, and the stitching was loose.
He had been using it since the first day.
After the game, while the players packed up, Vanessa walked over.
"That was impressive," she said.
"We won because everybody played well."
"Is that a rehearsed answer?"
Rafael smiled. "A little."
Vanessa studied him for a moment. Then she nodded toward the glove. "That’s an old one."
"It was fine for a long time."
"Is it still fine?"
Rafael hesitated, then shrugged. "It does the job."
She didn’t say anything for a few seconds. When she did, her tone was lighter. "My father tells me DAVRAA is in a few weeks. Does the team have everything it needs?"
"I think so."
"Are you sure?"
"Coach Daniel handles that."
"Of course he does." Vanessa looked toward her father, who was talking with Paolo near the bench. "He won’t ask for help, even if he needs it. It runs in the family."
Rafael almost smiled. "It might."
She took a small card from her bag and held it out. "If the team ever needs something, equipment, travel, anything for the regional, you can contact me. It isn’t charity. Cruzstone sponsors local events."
Rafael looked at the card but didn’t take it right away.
His pride was Alex’s pride. He had spent his whole life never needing anyone’s help. But another part of him, the part that had listened to Manuel talk about loans and watched Elena count coins at the market, knew the difference between pride and responsibility.
"I’ll tell Coach," he said.
"That’s all I’m asking."
He took the card. Vanessa gave him a quick, professional smile.
"Good luck at the regional."
"Thank you, Ms. Cruz."
"Vanessa is fine."
She walked back toward her father, and Rafael watched her go. She hadn’t said anything about his family or the accident, but he had the feeling she knew more than she had shown. She had noticed the glove, and she had listened.
That was all.
For now.
That night, Rafael sat on the front steps of the house with the card in his hand. Lia sat next to him, eating a piece of bread and pretending not to be curious.
"Who’s that from?"
"Coach’s daughter."
"The one with the company?"
"How do you know that?"
"I listen when you talk to Mama." Lia chewed thoughtfully. "Is she pretty?"
"Lia."
"It’s a fair question."
"She’s very professional."
Lia grinned. "That means yes."
"It means she’s the coach’s daughter."
"Okay, okay." She stretched her legs out. "Kuya, are you worried about the regional?"
Rafael looked up at the sky. It was a clear night, and he could see a few stars above the roofs.
"No."
"Really?"
"I’m excited."
Lia sighed. "You’re always excited. It’s weird."
"I know."
She leaned her head on his shoulder, something she hadn’t done in a long time. Rafael didn’t move.
"I’m proud of you," she said, very quietly.
Rafael didn’t answer right away. The words settled somewhere in his chest, next to the things he never said aloud. Alex Sterling had heard thousands of people say they were proud of him. He had never felt it the way he felt it now.
"Thanks, Lia."
"Don’t make it weird."
"I won’t."
They sat quietly for a few minutes. Inside the house, Elena was humming, and Manuel’s voice drifted from the kitchen. Rafael looked down at the card, then slipped it into his pocket.
Three weeks until DAVRAA.
He had work to do.
End of Chapter 21