My Home Run

The young man stood on the other side of the fence, watching him throw a ball back and forth with someone else. He didn't really pay much attention to whom exactly. It didn't matter. It wasn't important. No, the young man had eyes only for him. He'd stood by the sidelines like this many times before, watching him, but he never noticed. Then suddenly, the ball came flying toward him. Instinctively, the young man rose his hand and the ball sailed neatly into it. As he lowered his arm, the young man stared at the ball a moment, not noticing the young man he'd been watching jogging toward him. "You catch pretty well there Mate, Just as well. Otherwise it might've hit you square on in the face" he said, smiling when he reached the young man. "Thanks. I'm Rod by the way."
"Kent," said the young man, dropping the ball into Rod's outstretched palm before reaching to shake it.
"Do you play ball?" Rod asked.
"I've never tried," said Kent.
"I could show you," Rod said. "I might need a sub partner every now and again. Little Miss Mickey over there can get tired pretty quick." Rod gestured over his shoulder with his thumb, and when Kent squinted, he could just make out a young girl sitting in the shade. "She's my sister, and I love her, but she doesn't really like doing this stuff too much. She only does it cause I'm her big brother and she loves me. But it would be nice to play with someone my own age for once."
Kent had to fight to keep his cheeks from colouring and giving him away. "I'd love to," he said. "I've always thought it looked like fun."

As promised, Kent returned and Rod taught him all about playing ball over several sunny afternoons. The two  quickly became friends. Kent still tried to stomp down on what he felt for Rod, but it was hard. Little did Kent realise, Rod shared his feelings and he too was scared.
"I know you're scared Rod," Mickey said one day. "But you have to have courage."
"You think so?"
The young girl nodded. Their father stuck his head round the corner. "Courage is not the absence of fear, but rather the judgement that something else is more important than fear. The brave do not live forever, but the cautious do not live at all."
"Dad's right you know," said Mickey when their father had disappeared.

So, one day after a lengthy game of catch, the two sat on a bench recovering. Rod smiled at Kent. "Kent, hold still a second would you Buddy." Rod reached to gently swipe a lash from the edge of Kent's eye. Holding it between them on his finger, he said. "Make a wish Kent, then blow it away." So Kent made a wish before puckering his lips and blowing. Not a moment later, his wish came true as Rod leaned in, pressing his lips to Kent's. They stayed like that a moment before they pulled apart.
"Rod you..." Kent said, his mouth hanging open a little.
"Was that ok?"
"Yeah. I just didn't think. I never thought..."
"It's true Kent," Rod said, chuckling a little. "I like you. I might even love you." He reached for Kent's hand, squeezing it lightly in his own. "What do you say we see where this goes?" Seemingly robbed of speech, Kent simply nodded and smiled back at him.

Up until now, their blooming romance had been something of a secret, but that all changed when they played their first baseball game a year or two later. Kent hit the ball hard with his bat, let it drop to the ground with a clatter and ran for his life. The team and the crowd watching all cheered as he ran, but none louder than Rod. Kent was bright red when he completed the circuit and fell down onto the pad as the umpire declared him 'safe'. Exhausted, Kent didn't rise, and Rod was the first one by his side. Rod glanced at the umpire. "I've got him," he said before gently, strongly scooping Kent up into his arm and carrying him from the field. On the sideline benches, Rod saty beside him, arm round his shoulders. "You did well honey," he said. "I'm proud of you. For someone who had never played baseball..."
"I had a good teacher," Kent said simply. "It was because of you Rod. I was running home to you."
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In memory of the incredible Garry Marshall. This man made the most cherished film of my childhood, the Princess Diaries. I am saddened that he's not with us anymore, but I am so grateful that he lived. RIP.