She was friendly and nice enough. A little on the shorter side, looked like she kept herself in shape, well-dressed. She certainly was attractive in an objective sense, but she didn’t light up my fire or spark my deepest desires. I supposed that was exactly the ideal for an assistant to the event organizer, given that she would cause as few distractions as possible.
“Mr. Ferrari, pleasure to meet you,” she said, calling me by a formal name that I didn’t even think kids called me by. I legitimately could never recall getting the “mister” before; it felt like most people just assumed athletes could be called by their first name. I didn’t care, but it was a little jarring.
“Likewise.”
“Follow me, please.”
I did so, keeping my head on a swivel. For as many times as I had been to Fresno State’s campus, going through the “back halls” of even just the auditorium reminded me how little I knew. I was also curious to see if any of the other speakers were someone I knew.
But alas, I didn’t recognize anyone. Rachel put me in a room where another woman started to put my mic and stage makeup on.
“OK, so you’ll hear the PA announcer introduce you, you’ll be on the side, and then you’ll go out and give your speech. We’ve already approved it.”
“Uh-huh.”
And then, for a momentary flash, as Rachel continued to speak, in the opening of the door, I saw someone walk by that was stunningly attractive, so much so that it caught my eye without her ever slowing down. Was it Izzy? The brunette hair, the confident walk, the…hurried demeanor would certainly seem to match it all. But there was no telling, and in any case, just as I tuned out all extraneous distractions when I went to play baseball, I needed to do the same here for my speech.
“Understood?” Rachel asked.
“Definitely,” I said, even though I’d only heard a few words of it. It was, obviously, not my first public speaking engagement.
But it seemingly was one of the few in which my innate ability to remain completely and utterly focused, regardless of the circumstances around me, was making things a little more challenging than usual.
* * *
“So, of course, having a Bulldog mentality would be good. Just make sure, gentlemen, you shave beforehand so you don’t look like one.”
The crowd let out a polite laugh at one of my quips. Before me, probably a few hundred students sat. While there were certainly a few people there merely to say that they heard a professional athlete speak, the vast majority already looked like they were dressed ready to interview. They listened with rapt attention, took notes, and hung on every word I said.
All the while, I remained conscious of maintaining that smile, gesturing with my hands, and throwing in an off-script—though not off-color—joke.
I also kept scanning the crowd, but best that I could tell, there was no one I had a particular interest in.
“I cannot stress this enough,” I said. “Your mentality will take you everywhere. A lot of people see the last name Ferrari and think, ‘Oh, he comes from that family. He doesn’t need to play baseball.’ And maybe in one sense, that’s true. But I wake up every day and imagine myself as the player who, if he doesn’t play at an All-Star level today, is going to get cut and be out of the league forever. And someday, that will happen, whether because of age or injury or just a decline in performance. But as long as I have that mentality, that mindset handed down by the honest work of my father and grandfather, I will have everything I need. Thank you.”
The crowd burst out into applause at that, and I gave a short bow. I looked over to the side, behind the stage, where Rachel was waiting.
And right behind her was Izzy.
She was even more attractive in person than she had been on the screen. She was much taller than I had anticipated, and while I still had her by about three or four inches, there was something sexy about a tall woman. A woman who could “stand up” to me physically was intoxicating.
But on a deeper level, I could see the way that she was watching me from behind the stage. She had a gaze of intensity that very few people, man or woman, had in this world; it was a gaze of absolute focus, certainty, and assuredness. I had often heard women say that confidence was one of my sexiest features, and while that may have been true, I would have to say confidence in a woman, if not the sexiest feature, was one of the most underrated.
I couldn’t take my eyes off of her. She bore no smile, but she clapped; I didn’t think her lack of a smile came from disappointment. I had to imagine that her mind had gone off into a thousand different directions, already planning how to make sure the rest of the day ran smoothly. I smiled back.
For a flicker of a second, I thought Izzy smiled at me.
But then, before I could process it or react to it, she was gone. And it wasn’t a gradual, “look back” gone; it was as if someone had yanked her away. Trying to play it off as part of the show, I waved to the side of the room, waved to the other side of the room, and then took a bow before I exited off-stage.
“Well done, Mr. Ferrari,” Rachel said. “Usually, we don’t have students paying such close attention.”
“Well, hopefully, they remember more than just my batting average,” I said. “Where
