FIC: The Good Sport (T:SCC) (for kristinmachina)
Title: The Good Sport
Author: wizefics
Fandom: T:SCC
Characters: Derek Reese
Prompt: Written for the prompt baseball for kristinmachina.
Rating: Gen
Warnings: None.
Summary: There are more important things than winning.
Disclaimer: I don't own the fandoms and don't make money doing this.
A/N: Written for day 15 of the June!Challege at fic_on_demand.
As always, feedback is welcome and appreciated!
***************
The Good Sport
Derek started playing baseball as soon as he could walk and hold a bat. He lost count of the hours his father would patiently play catch with him in the backyard, but he never forgot a second of how good it felt. He loved everything about the sport, from the sound of the crack of a baseball off a bat to the smell of the dirt.
He started pestering his parents to sign him up for t-ball as soon as he learned that there was such a thing as t-ball and after a fretful moment at his first practice where he was too shy to go and meet the rest of his team, he never looked back.
He was the first one to the ball field for practice, the last one to finish cleaning up to leave after a game. He never missed a chance to play ball, and the only games he missed from his intramural team came after he broke his left wrist when he messed up a slide into home plate when he was 11 during a play off game. He didn’t mind the broken bone nearly as much as he minded the fact that he was called out, and only his father’s stern order to quit arguing with the umpire and get his butt in the station wagon got him to the hospital to have the bone set.
Derek saw his first professional baseball game when he was 12. He’d begged for years, and finally his father gave in and drove them to Los Angeles to see the Dodgers. The game went into extra innings and Derek was ecstatic, sure that nothing in the world mattered more than winning. When the Dodgers won in the bottom of the 12th with a walk off homerun, Derek turned to his father, who was holding a sleeping Kyle, and proclaimed that some day he would play ball for the Dodgers and win the World Series.
His father smiled at him and drove them home. Derek talked about baseball the entire way. He tried out for his school team as soon as he was old enough, waving off warnings from his mother that if his grades fell too low, he’d have to quit. That wouldn’t happen. It couldn’t happen. Derek knew that he was going to be the best baseball player that ever lived. School grades wouldn’t get in the way.
When he was fourteen, he was elected captain of the high school JV team. It was a good sign that he’d make the Varsity Team the next year, be vice-captain by his junior year, and Captain his senior year.
Then everything started to go wrong. Smith, who played first base couldn’t seem to catch a ball if it was painted in day-glo and thrown into his glove. Gonzalez at second missed every single throw from the catcher’s mound. Derek, playing at third base, grew increasingly upset, and his rants at the team before and after the games eventually caused his coach to suspend him for a game.
Derek walked into his house after that and threw his glove on the ground, angrily proclaiming that he was going to quit. He was the best player on the team and his coach knew that. When his father stood up, Derek fell silent, clearly aware that he’d gone too far.
“Let’s go to your room.” It was the same ominous statement that had preceeded every punishment Derek could ever remember getting from his father. Once there, his father had eyed him sternly and then sighed and sat on the edge of Derek’s desk.
“I want you to understand something, son.”
“Dad, you don’t….”
“Shut up and listen to me, Derek. You’ve done an awful lot of talking lately and I think a reality check is just what you need.” His father sighed. “You think you’re the best ballplayer to ever live, and who am I to tell you otherwise? Maybe you are.” Derek fell silent, surprised that his father wasn’t going to argue with him over that. “But there is something more important than being a good baseball player. There’s being a good sport.”
“I’m trying.” Derek protested, sulkily.
“No, you’re not. You’re this team’s captain, but you’re doing a piss poor job leading them. Would you feel inspired right now if I read you the riot act for failing at your goal?”
Derek looked down at the floor. “No, sir.”
“Then why do you expect that your teammates will react any differently?”
Derek flushed and sat down heavily on the bed. “I’m a bad leader, huh?”
“You’ve got a lot to learn.” Derek’s father leaned over and ruffled his hair. “But you have always made me proud of you, son. I have confidence that you will do that now.”
“I’ll talk to the Coach.” Derek swallowed. “And apologize to the team.”
“I think that’s a good start.”
Over the weeks that followed, Derek tried to remember and live by his father’s words on sportsmanship. He listened to his teammates, offered suggestions and encouragement, and worked out with anyone that asked him for help. When they came in third at the end of the season, Derek learned something else about sportsmanship. He learned about pride in his team. Gonzalez tagged out two attempted steals and Smith didn’t miss a single throw to first. Having his teammates cheer around him made him realize that there was a better feeling that winning the game. There was winning respect.
Having his father cheering him on proudly from the sidelines just made everything that much better.
Author: wizefics
Fandom: T:SCC
Characters: Derek Reese
Prompt: Written for the prompt baseball for kristinmachina.
Rating: Gen
Warnings: None.
Summary: There are more important things than winning.
Disclaimer: I don't own the fandoms and don't make money doing this.
A/N: Written for day 15 of the June!Challege at fic_on_demand.
As always, feedback is welcome and appreciated!
***************
The Good Sport
Derek started playing baseball as soon as he could walk and hold a bat. He lost count of the hours his father would patiently play catch with him in the backyard, but he never forgot a second of how good it felt. He loved everything about the sport, from the sound of the crack of a baseball off a bat to the smell of the dirt.
He started pestering his parents to sign him up for t-ball as soon as he learned that there was such a thing as t-ball and after a fretful moment at his first practice where he was too shy to go and meet the rest of his team, he never looked back.
He was the first one to the ball field for practice, the last one to finish cleaning up to leave after a game. He never missed a chance to play ball, and the only games he missed from his intramural team came after he broke his left wrist when he messed up a slide into home plate when he was 11 during a play off game. He didn’t mind the broken bone nearly as much as he minded the fact that he was called out, and only his father’s stern order to quit arguing with the umpire and get his butt in the station wagon got him to the hospital to have the bone set.
Derek saw his first professional baseball game when he was 12. He’d begged for years, and finally his father gave in and drove them to Los Angeles to see the Dodgers. The game went into extra innings and Derek was ecstatic, sure that nothing in the world mattered more than winning. When the Dodgers won in the bottom of the 12th with a walk off homerun, Derek turned to his father, who was holding a sleeping Kyle, and proclaimed that some day he would play ball for the Dodgers and win the World Series.
His father smiled at him and drove them home. Derek talked about baseball the entire way. He tried out for his school team as soon as he was old enough, waving off warnings from his mother that if his grades fell too low, he’d have to quit. That wouldn’t happen. It couldn’t happen. Derek knew that he was going to be the best baseball player that ever lived. School grades wouldn’t get in the way.
When he was fourteen, he was elected captain of the high school JV team. It was a good sign that he’d make the Varsity Team the next year, be vice-captain by his junior year, and Captain his senior year.
Then everything started to go wrong. Smith, who played first base couldn’t seem to catch a ball if it was painted in day-glo and thrown into his glove. Gonzalez at second missed every single throw from the catcher’s mound. Derek, playing at third base, grew increasingly upset, and his rants at the team before and after the games eventually caused his coach to suspend him for a game.
Derek walked into his house after that and threw his glove on the ground, angrily proclaiming that he was going to quit. He was the best player on the team and his coach knew that. When his father stood up, Derek fell silent, clearly aware that he’d gone too far.
“Let’s go to your room.” It was the same ominous statement that had preceeded every punishment Derek could ever remember getting from his father. Once there, his father had eyed him sternly and then sighed and sat on the edge of Derek’s desk.
“I want you to understand something, son.”
“Dad, you don’t….”
“Shut up and listen to me, Derek. You’ve done an awful lot of talking lately and I think a reality check is just what you need.” His father sighed. “You think you’re the best ballplayer to ever live, and who am I to tell you otherwise? Maybe you are.” Derek fell silent, surprised that his father wasn’t going to argue with him over that. “But there is something more important than being a good baseball player. There’s being a good sport.”
“I’m trying.” Derek protested, sulkily.
“No, you’re not. You’re this team’s captain, but you’re doing a piss poor job leading them. Would you feel inspired right now if I read you the riot act for failing at your goal?”
Derek looked down at the floor. “No, sir.”
“Then why do you expect that your teammates will react any differently?”
Derek flushed and sat down heavily on the bed. “I’m a bad leader, huh?”
“You’ve got a lot to learn.” Derek’s father leaned over and ruffled his hair. “But you have always made me proud of you, son. I have confidence that you will do that now.”
“I’ll talk to the Coach.” Derek swallowed. “And apologize to the team.”
“I think that’s a good start.”
Over the weeks that followed, Derek tried to remember and live by his father’s words on sportsmanship. He listened to his teammates, offered suggestions and encouragement, and worked out with anyone that asked him for help. When they came in third at the end of the season, Derek learned something else about sportsmanship. He learned about pride in his team. Gonzalez tagged out two attempted steals and Smith didn’t miss a single throw to first. Having his teammates cheer around him made him realize that there was a better feeling that winning the game. There was winning respect.
Having his father cheering him on proudly from the sidelines just made everything that much better.