After losing three straight to Pittsburgh, the team was feeling rather down. The mood in the clubhouse as everyone was getting ready for the charter flight to St. Louis was not exactly chipper, to say the least.
“Our season’s over,” Daniel heard a sad teammate say.
“Who said that?” Daniel said.
No one answered.
“Who said it’s over?” Daniel said.
Again, no answer. Daniel knew what he had to do. He grabbed his gym bag and ran out of the clubhouse and into a spare storage closet. He pulled out his orange and blue Superhero costume, and within moments, he was changed and quickly running back into the clubhouse, the cape withe large number 28 trailing behind.
“Rumor has it someone is saying it’s over,” Daniel said.
“It’s the Superhero!” David Wright said.
“Yes, it is I,” Daniel said. “I just have one thing to say. Nothing is over until we say it is! Was it over when the Germans bombed Pearl Harbor? Hell no!”
“Uh, Superhero,” David said. “You’re quoting Animal House.”
“It doesn’t matter,” Daniel said. “You get the point. You’re all baseball players! There’s no crying in baseball!”
“A League of Their Own!” Bobby Parnell chirped in.
“It’s time to start playing with some heart! You didn’t come into to this life just to sit around on a dugout bench, did ya?”
“Wait,” Lucas Duda said. “Let me think… I’m not sure which one that’s from.”
“You just got lesson number one,” Daniel said. “Don’t think. It can only hurt the ball club.”
“Bull Durham!” Dillon Gee said.
“It’s time to start playing like a team!” Daniel said.
“Yep!” David Wright said. “We’ve got uniforms and everything! It’s really great!”
“You’re in the major leagues!” Daniel said. “Start acting like it!”
With that, the Superhero turned and left. The road trip would tell if his little pep talk worked.