Finals always made me fidgety from all the attention and extra stuff we would have to do. From the announcements and the speeches to the bigger crowd. It was just more noisy in general. In regular games, it was mostly just students and parents from the home team with a few traveling parents.
“Tournament’s are good for scouts and recruiters.” Jeremy had explained earlier. “Just think, instead of two teams being seen, you get a whole lot more variety plus there’s more opportunities to see a player in one weekend than you normally would in a week. Of course, the bigger the tournament, the more attention it’ll attract.”
One tournament upcoming came to mind. The Foothill Classic. It was a couple of weeks away, but the crowds were definitely going to be bigger. And the teams would be better.
After all the introductions, we were finally allowed to take the field. Garret got on the mound for his practice pitches. The rest of us did what we needed and soon the umpire called for the extra balls to be thrown in so the game could start.
First batter up was a lefty. Lefty versus lefty. Garret always has the advantage in my mind, but this guy didn’t go down without a fight. He fouled off four pitches, let two wide pitches pass for balls, then finally put one in play, pulling it down the first baseline. Sean made a diving stop before the grass. He jumped up and saw Garret coming over to cover from the mound. He underhanded the ball to him and Garret tagged the base for the first out.
Garret had better luck with the next batter, getting him to strike out swinging on the fifth pitch. The third batter took the least amount of pitches, but made the best contact, hitting a line drive to left field. Korrey sprinted in and started to slide, catching the ball before it hit the grass. Out.
Coach clapped his hands when we had all gotten back to the dugout. “Alright. That’s what we’ll need. Defense stay sharp.” He scanned the dugout and stopped on Garret with Alisha and Mitchell. No doubt discussing pitch count. “Garret, I don’t need you monitoring your pitch count so seriously. Alisha has it covered. When you’re close, I’ll know and I’ll let you know. Right now, you have to switch to the offensive.”
Garret laughed. “I know, I know. Can’t help it sometimes.” He gave Alisha a small pat on the head. “When we get back to the top of the order, tell me where I’m at.”
Bottom of the first, Sean and Noah were the first to leave the dugout while I stood in the hole. It didn’t take Garret long to switch his equipment and come on over. He tightened his batting gloves as he nodded at me.
I nodded back, then focused on the pitcher. “Doesn’t he…seem…not too good?” I questioned.
Garret grinned. “Isn’t that good news for us?”
I nodded. Then paused. “Why would they put him on the mound then?”
“It’s a tournament so there could be a lot of reasons.” Garret jerked his thumb at himself. “Like me, limited pitch count. They could have a better pitcher in the pen, and just use this guy to test us out. Or maybe they already used up all their good pitchers so far and plan to have a hitfest with us.”
I nodded again. Makes sense. Not everyone could have a stacked pitching staff like us. We had an unfair advantage with the twins and Garret. In fact, next year…we would only really have Bryce and Brian as starters. I frowned. That could be a problem.
Sean earned a walk and jogged to first base, bringing up Noah. Garret gave my shoulder a heavy pat and woke me up from my thoughts of the future. I got out of the dugout and into the on deck circle. It was a short stay, because Noah didn’t waste any time attacking a pitch in the zone. He looped it over the third baseman’s head for a base hit. The player if left field got the ball back in time, keeping Sean at second and Noah at first.
I hit my bat against my cleats and headed for the batters box slowly. I kept my eye on the catcher but he stayed down in a squat position. Just waiting on me. Alright, I would get to swing!
I went around the catcher and umpire and got in the lefty’s box. For the last two games, I’ve gotten one chance to swing and then it was intentional walks from there on. Both times I did hit a homerun… I wanted to try to keep it in the park this time. Maybe it would give me more opportunities to swing in the game.
The pitcher really was mediocre. Especially for a finals game. There was no point for me to foul a bunch and waste his pitch count. Heck, it was probably better to keep him on the mound. I connected on the third pitch and it flew to right-center field. Neither of the two outfielders on either side of the fly ball would be able to make the catch. All of us were on the run.
After rounding first, I didn’t dare slow up. My goal was second base.
“Go for two!”
“Second!”
“Throw home! Throw home!”
Shouts were coming from every direction. Players, coaches, parents. Everyone. My eyes were on the center fielder who got the ball and was making the throw in. I thought they were trying for me so I did my best to slide into the base. Hugging the bag, the tag I thought was coming simply didn’t.
I looked to home and that’s where all the action was. There was a play at the plate between Noah and the catch.
“Safe!” The home plate umpire declared.
Noah jumped up from the dirt and slapped hands with Sean. Then they were greeted by Garret before going back inside the dugout. Noah took my bat and looked back at me with a huge grin. We were on the board. 2-0.
I got up and dusted myself off.
Mr. Miller gave out some false signs for show. Garret had the free pass to swing as he’d like. This pitcher was no problem. But Mr. Miller did give me the sign to take a bigger lead. Good chance I would be heading for home if Garret could get it far enough.
Sure enough, he did his part and I was off. Mr. Miller was already waving me around before I tagged third. I hit the base and headed home. Jason was gesturing and yelling. “Slide! Slide!”
Fudge. I pushed off and dove head first. My head got hit by the catchers leg.
“Safe!” 3-0.
Jason helped me up. “You good?”
I nodded. “Barely knocked.”
He slapped me on the helmet. “Great work!”
I went back to the dugout, all smiles.
“The helmet protect you okay?” Coach was the first to ask.
I nodded and took it off. “I’m okay. For the most part.” I held up my hands that got a little tore up from the two slides.
Coach frowned. “Start wearing gloves.”
“I’ll think about it.” I grimaced, wiping my hands against my jersey.
“It’s not a suggestion. It’s a requirement.” Coach stated. “I can’t be losing you due to scrapped hands.”
I sighed.
