re: will daddy issues . the one clip from a home game (teal carpet so maybe home opener or something) where he hugs his mom and sister and then shakes his dad’s hand ?? who tf shakes their dad’s hand except someone who maybe doesn’t have a lot of comfort and familiarity with them over years of distance etcccc
does anybody have this clip??? i need it for research
i suppose it could also be a very specific, rather old-fashioned view of masculinity, which seems…. odd for will smith baker pop lover famous bruncher, sitter in grown men’s laps and wearer of bedazzled heart-shaped sunglasses. VERY fun to contrast with mack, who hugged HIS father and called him “dada” in front of god country and approx 23 cameras on draft day
Summary: If Bradley knew anything about his son, he knew Everett wouldn't be happy with a normal job. Not after wishing and hoping to play major league baseball for most of his life. But when Draft Day turns out even better than expected, Bradley becomes a viral sensation.
Warnings: Fluff, swearing
Length: 2600 words
Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female single!mom Reader
This is a Batting Practice one-shot but can be read alone! Check out my masterlist for more! Banner by @mak-32
"I hate flying commercial," Bradley grunted as the enormous Boeing 747 touched down on the rainy runway in Pittsburgh. "These pilots couldn't land smoothly for a million dollars."
You kissed him where he was crammed into the economy window seat, his broad shoulders hunched slightly in discomfort. "I told you before we took off to go up to the cockpit and show them how it's done."
Bradley snorted. "And I told you that even though I wanted to, we'd get kicked off the flight. And tomorrow's too important to miss by being grounded in San Diego."
Bradley reached for your hand when it was time to deboard, and he ended up practically dragging you through the airport to the baggage claim area. "Can we slow down?" you asked with a laugh.
"No. Come on, Kitten. Ev's flight from Nashville landed forty minutes ago."
"Okay, okay," you muttered as the two of you ran toward an escalator. The entire airport was swarming with media groups and college aged players hoping to get drafted by an MLB team tomorrow. And your son was one of those hopefuls.
You had barely taken a step off of the escalator when Bradley said, "I see him." And you kind of loved the way he released your hand to rush toward Everett. Your son looked tall and strong in his Vanderbilt tee shirt and backwards Phillies cap, and a second later, he was hugging your husband.
"Hey, Dad," he said with a laugh as Bradley kissed his forehead and folded him up in his arms. "Hi, Mom." And then you were pulled into the hug, too.
"Did you get your bags yet?" Bradley asked.
"The last one's coming around now," Everett replied, and he bent to pick up the long, thin luggage that must have been filled with his baseball gear. "I'm starving. Where are we eating dinner?"
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After Everett had two enormous roast beef sandwiches filled with french fries and coleslaw, Bradley said, "I was about to ask if you were still getting enough calories every day, but I guess it's safe to assume that yes, you are."
"I'm just always hungry," Everett replied from across the booth, patting his flat belly. "I think the fact that my baseball scholarship covered the cost of food on campus saved you guys from bankruptcy."
You pushed some of your uneaten fries to the side, and Everett started picking at them. "We would have had to sell the house," you said, shaking your head as your son polished off the rest of your meal, too.
"So what's on the agenda tomorrow? What time do we have to be at the field?" Bradley asked. "Some of the kids at the airport looked really young. Are you nervous?"
Everett just shrugged. "Nah, what's the worst that can happen? I don't get drafted? I mean, I'm still not twenty two quite yet. I skipped the draft last year so I could finish college, and I have a degree now, so I could always get a normal job. Or join the navy. I already have a call sign."
But Bradley knew his son didn't want a normal job. When he'd gotten an invitation to the draft, he called Bradley immediately and told him how excited he was. "You can't wear that cap tomorrow," Bradley said with a grin.
Everett spun it around so the battered Phillies P was facing the front. "You're right," he groaned. "I'll have to retire my favorite hat! But at least that would mean I'm pitching for another MLB team, you know?"
"Yeah," Bradley said with a nod as he pulled out his credit card. "It'll be worth it."
Once the three of them were settled into the two bedroom hotel suite, Everett headed right for his room. "You know he just wants to text his girlfriend all night," you said.
"She's not my girlfriend," he replied with an eye roll. "Goodnight." And then he closed the door with his phone already in his hand.
"She's totally his girlfriend," Bradley whispered, heading for the other bedroom with you right behind him. He pulled his shirt off and tossed it next to his suitcase before dropping onto the bed.
"She totally is." You climbed into bed with him as he turned on the TV to ESPN. They were already showing live coverage of the MLB draft preparations. Reporters were interviewing coaches, and they were starting to remove some of the tarps and set up the stage at PNC Park as the rain had finally tapered off. You were just starting to get comfortable curled up on Bradley's chest when he jolted so hard you yelped.
"Baby! They're talking about Ev."
You listened to the analyst on TV as he said, "And Bradshaw out of Vanderbilt, well he skipped the draft last year to finish his degree. That's almost unheard of! But his senior year stats were his best yet, so maybe he knew what he was doing. There are a lot of National League teams looking for a young ace pitcher who can also show up at bat, and he looks like he's just going to keep getting better. He should go late in the first round or early in the second."
Bradley's eyes were wide as he laughed and rolled you onto your back. "There are literally ESPN analysts talking about our son, Kitten." Then he kissed you softly as you wrapped your arms around his neck. His hands were inside your shirt and you were giggling.
"Hey, you seem excited, Coach." Bradley groaned as his hand drifted down to the fly of your jeans. "Okay," you agreed, "but we have to be quiet." And then your jeans were off and your husband showed you exactly how excited he was.
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"Oh my God," Bradley mumbled over and over again as the three of you headed up toward the enormous stage that had been erected on the outfield at the ballpark. The weather had mostly cleared, and the city skyline looked gorgeous lit by the late morning sun peeking through the clouds.
"Third row, Dad," Everett said, guiding them toward their assigned seats. Bradley and Everett were both wearing navy blue suits, but while Everett had chosen a neutral looking yellow and white tie, Bradley's was red. If they were going to have to start wearing a new team's jerseys and colors, he wanted to at least have one last hurrah.
Bradley let you go into the row first, and then he took the next seat so Everett could sit by the aisle. And when everything started up, the ballpark got loud. The regular seats were filled with spectators, and it was so surreal that Bradley was sitting down here with the draftee hopefuls and his own family.
You pulled out your phone and said, "Aunt Molly wants a selfie." Bradley grinned as you and Everett both leaned in closer to him and smiled. You snapped the photo and said, "I'm sure she's going to want a ridiculous selfie, too." So the three of you made obnoxious faces, and then you sent them to your sister with a giggle before letting your cheek rest on Bradley's shoulder.
It was starting to get hot in the sun now as the league commissioner made her way up onto the stage and announced that the draft was officially beginning. "Holy shit," Bradley whispered, reaching for your hand. He was so excited, practically shaking. And he cheered politely as the crowd screamed when shortstop Javier Marianas was chosen first by the Milwaukee Brewers.
"He's really good," Everett remarked, completely calm while Bradley was sweating bullets. "He went to USC and I pitched against him once. He nailed my slider."
Bradley could only grunt in response as the Toronto Blue Jays were up next. He had no idea how everyone around him was so calm when he thought he might throw up. He looked up to see the teams listed in order on the jumbotron. The Phillies had the sixth pick, which surely would never happen, but the Padres were drafting twenty third. Having Everett close to home in San Diego for most of the year would be amazing. Bradley was already crossing his fingers.
The Texas Rangers, Washington Nationals and Chicago White Sox all chose power hitters. Bradley tried to sit still while Everett told him that the player chosen by the Rangers was his roommate a decade ago at the Little League World Series. But Bradley was too distracted to listen to much of anything as members of the Phillies organization walked up onto the stage, and the clock started ticking down until their draft selection needed to be turned in.
And then Bradley could tell that while his son seemed calm on the outside, he was a little anxious after all. He saw the prominent bob of Everett's Adam's apple as he swallowed and whispered, "Would have been cool, huh Dad?"
Bradley gently let go of your hand and turned a little bit to wrap his arm around Everett's shoulders and pull him close. His son smiled at the awkward hug, and Bradley told him, "Kiddo, any team would be lucky to have you." He wanted to give him some more reassuring words, but there was nothing else to say. If Everett was selected, the team that chose him would be gaining an amazing pitcher, sure, but also a solid teammate and someone who cared about more than just himself.
So Bradley kept his arm around his son as the league commissioner returned to the microphone. There were Phillies staff members ready and waiting with a jersey and baseball cap, and they all looked excited for their new player to be announced. The commissioner cleared her throat and said, "With the sixth overall pick in this year's draft, the Philadelphia Phillies choose pitcher Everett Bradshaw."
"Holy shit," Everett whispered as he stared up at the stage with his mouth hanging open.
Bradley jolted forward in his seat as you scrambled to get your phone out again. "Holy shit," Everett and Bradley said in unison as the crowd started to cheer when Everett's stats started scrolling along the jumbotron screen.
"Ev!" you shrieked, and Bradley jumped to his feet.
"Kiddo! The Phillies!" he said, and slowly Everett rose to his feet too. "The Phillies!"
And then his son was in his arms, slapping him on the back as he said, "Dad. Oh my God! The Phillies!"
Bradley kissed his cheek and squeezed him. "The Phillies! Go up and get that fucking jersey!" And then Everett leaned in to give you a quick hug before he very gracefully walked down the aisle toward the stage.
But Bradley was absolutely losing his mind now as the cheering around them grew louder. "Yeah! The Phillies! Kitten, the fucking Phillies!" He raked his hands through his hair. "Our son is going to Philadelphia!"
"He got drafted!" you screamed over the crowd, and Bradley vaguely registered that you were holding your phone up as you jumped around.
"He got fucking drafted! By the best team in baseball!" Bradley shouted, pumping his fist in the air. And then there was a champagne bottle in his hands, and he started chugging it before screaming, "Yes!" He was jumping with you now, spraying champagne all over the place as he watched Everett take some photos on the stage in his brand new Phillies cap with the jersey held up in front of him. "That's my son! That's my son! I love you, Everett! He's a Phillie! Hell yeah!"
Bradley lunged for you and your shriek of ecstatic laughter had him scooping you into his arms. "Coach! He did it!"
He smothered you in kisses as you took the bottle from his hand and drank some of it. "That's our son! I'm so proud of him!"
"You did this, Coach! You're the one who made this happen!"
Then he shared so many champagne flavored kisses with you as Everett was escorted off the stage to riotous cheering.
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A couple hours later, the three of you were back in the hotel room, all sticky from champagne with enormous smiles on your face. You watched as Everett kept hugging Bradley, and now both of them were wearing brand new Phillies caps turned backwards. "Thanks, Dad."
"You need to stop thanking me," Bradley replied softly. "It was all you. I'm so damn proud, Kiddo." But he did look pleased with himself. "Hey, my phone keeps blowing up. Everyone is so excited. I've got about a hundred texts from Maverick, Bob and Molly." But then Bradley froze and squinted down at his phone screen. "Charlie and Flora sent me links to a video they said went viral?"
"What is it?" you asked, but as soon as you looked at the screen, your eyes went wide. "Oh my God."
You watched as the video you had taken of Bradley screaming with the champagne bottle played on his phone.
"The Phillies! Kitten, the &%@#ing Phillies! Our son is going to Philadelphia!"
Everett erupted into laughter as Bradley just stared at the screen. "I feel like maybe I should be embarrassed?" he mumbled as he continued to watch himself spraying champagne everywhere.
"He got &%@#ing drafted! By the best team in baseball! That's my son! That's my son! I love you, Everett! He's a Phillie! Hell yeah!"
"How did Yahoo Sports get this?" Bradley asked as the video started to play again on loop. His cheeks were flushed with embarrassment.
You were gasping as you tried to stop laughing. "I don't know! I only sent it to Molly!"
"Molly," Bradley growled, cradling his forehead in his hands as he blushed deeper.
"Dad, it's got half a million views already! This is the funniest thing I have ever seen in my life! I'm sending it to everyone I know!"
And when you turned on the TV in the hotel room, the video was playing there. And when you went back to that sandwich place for dinner, Bradley pulled his cap down lower over his face, because it was playing there, too. And you and Everett couldn't stop laughing no matter how hard you tried.
"It's okay, Coach. If you weren't the biggest Phillies fan in the world before, you certainly are now," you told him. He squeezed into the booth first and then pulled you in to shield him as the people sitting at the bar were laughing at his viral video.
"Nah, I'm just the biggest Everett Bradshaw fan in the world. But listen, we need to come up with a game plan," Bradley said, pulling up the notes section on his phone. "The Phils want you there by next month, Ev. So we all need to fly out and find you an apartment. We can pay the first month and the security deposit until you actually have your signing bonus available. And we also need to go over that contract with a lawyer when we get back home to San Diego. Kitten, can you call that lawyer in your book club?"
But you just kissed him on the cheek as Everett leaned over the table with a smile. "We'll figure it out, Dad. But actually... I was thinking after we eat dinner, you and I could go to that park down the block from the hotel? I brought all my gear with me. Maybe I could pitch to you until it gets dark?"
Bradley immediately dropped his phone onto the table and squeezed his son's hand while tears stung his eyes. "Yeah, Ev. I would love that. The perfect ending to the perfect day."
And then he watched his son eat two more huge sandwiches and half of your fries as he gushed about how excited he was to play major league baseball for his favorite team and Bradley's.
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I love thinking about how Everett becomes known as the player with the "really excited dad". Thanks for reading! And thanks to @beyondthesefourwalls and @mak-32
