Somber was the theme of the bus ride. We had barely escaped with a win against Quincy at the varsity level, while the two lower levels had suffered losses. All coaches at all levels wore unpleasant looks, but nothing was said. Even after getting back to the school, the coaches only said reminders to show up in the morning.
"Do you think we'll be in trouble?" I asked Noah as we walked back to the car with his brothers.
"Why would you think that you'd be in trouble?" Kyle asked, raising an eyebrow.
Uhhh, lots of reasons. The altercation on the bus. My error. Jordan walking off. Chris being benched. Barely getting by in the game.
"Whatever it is, it won't be too bad." Dave stated. His middle finger had been wrapped up and was told to get it looked at tomorrow by a specialist if he could. "We have a game on Saturday, so even if Coach wants to make us run, it won't be the worst."
I didn't believe him for a second. Rightfully so.
"Easy for you to say." Noah snorted. "You'll probably miss in order to go to the doctor."
"He won't. You all heard Coach." Zeke spoke up. "If you're not there, then you're off the team."
Dave waved his bandaged finger. "Injuries are inexcusable?!?"
"Julian will be there." Zeke unlocked his car and we started to throw our bags in the trunk. "Do you really want a gimp showing you up? You only have a torn up nail."
"What if that's the only time I can see the doctor?" Dave grumbled.
"It's not like you can pitch any time soon." Zeke told him. "I'm sure Mom will get you in after practice."
"Do you know what's going to happen tomorrow?" I spoke up, looking at Zeke. He seemed very intent on making sure Dave will show up.
Zeke looked down at me. "Sometimes things have to fall apart so something better can be put together." He got in the driver's seat. "Get in. Let's go home and get some sleep."
We followed.
I wanted to ask what he meant by that, but it didn't seem appropriate. And when I wanted to ask Noah after my shower, he was already asleep. I guess the only way to find out, was to wait for tomorrow.
***
I don't really like mornings. It's too cold, I'm too tired, and I'm too cranky. Being at the field early means waking up even earlier. After sleeping in for almost a week, it was hard to come to terms with it. Not like Zeke gave me a choice.
He hurried us through the morning routine of waking up and eating breakfast, then got us to the field. But, we were turned away.
Mr. Miller stood guard before the clubhouse. "We're meeting at the track. Make sure you're wearing your running shoes."
I felt my heart drop.
We trudged our gear to the track, which was supposedly used for football practice in the fall and for track runners in the spring. Too bad it was wide open for us to use now. Everyone started to trickle in and lace up their running shoes. And I mean everyone. All three teams started to appear and it was a sight to behold. Almost 70-80 teenage boys of all shapes, sizes, and colors.
I nervously looked to some of the familiar faces from the bus confrontation. They looked to be with the freshmen group.
"Line it up." Coach told Zeke before passing him by. Coach joined the group of coaches off to the side and started conducting a meeting of some sort.
Zeke stepped forward on the grass, heading towards the center. He looked at the group of high schoolers and raised his voice. "Lineup on the sideline. We'll conduct our regular warmup." Not everyone had quieted down as he spoke. His eyes narrowed, spotting the offenders. "Lynch! Bhullar! And Shaw! Two laps! Now."
The three went quiet, but still took off around the track.
"Follow my lead." Zeke came back to the sideline, but stayed centered. Everyone didn't waste any time to get on the line and started following Zeke in the warmups of jogging and stretching. It went on for twenty minutes before we finished. Zeke motioned for us to stay before going to join the coaches.
The whole lot of them then walked to center, just yards away from the sideline. Zeke stood at the end of the line of coaches, looking over every one of us.
Coach stepped forward. "I've been hearing of many problems and issues this past week. I've listened to them all, from every level, and from every coach." His voice rang loud and clear in the early morning. "And I've got to say…I'm not happy that you're not happy. Not because I care about making everyone happy, but because I care about winning. Learning. Teamwork. Effort." He looked up and down the line. "I'll start with my own team. I have seniors who think they're above all just because of their age. Seniors who think they can decide when they'll play and when they won't."
I realized that I haven't seen Jordan this morning. I tried peeking up and down the line, but it was too crowded to find one guy.
"I've got news for you all, but I'm the Coach. Surprise." Coach continued. "That means I make the decisions. I decide who plays what, where, and when. Yesterday, we had a player who took exception to the rules and left on his own. You know what I say to that? Good. Leave. We have plenty of players that want to step up and play in a varsity game. You boys are at the age where the difference in skill is almost minuscule unless you're a star." He jerked his thumb back at Zeke. "Tell you what…when anyone gets to Zeke's level, they can start telling me how they want to play."
The group remained silent. Obviously Coach was more than a little upset. I gripped my hands together, interlocking my fingers.
"I don't think you boys understand how cutthroat high school baseball is." Coach started to pace up and down the line of players. "This isn't just a recreational team put together for fun and will get participation trophies. In order to get that trophy at the end, you have to win. In order to win, we have tryouts to pick players for the teams and start the training process." He spotted someone in the line and pointed at him. "Alex! Step forward." A tall guy with a wide build took a few steps out of line to stand apart. "Why don't you tell everyone what happened your freshman year?"
Alex looked a little sheepish as he turned to look at all of us. "As a freshman, I didn't make the team. Any team. At all."
"And here you are." Coach said. "Tell them, was it me who just gave you a spot out of the goodness in my heart?"
Alex shook his head. "No. I had to work for it. I got my hands on a training schedule from a minor league team and used that as guidance to become a better player. My whole freshman year was spent on it."
"And here you are." Coach nodded. "Alex did it right. We told him, he wasn't good enough. Instead of complaining that he was better than so-and-so or just flat out quitting, he chose to work harder. All by himself." He nodded again to Alex. "Thanks for the effort you've put in. I'd like to invite you to tryout for the varsity team again. This afternoon."
Alex widened his eyes and looked as surprised as the rest of us. "Really?"
"Yes." Coach started his pacing again. "We had a player depart from the team last night. Jordan Sanders is no longer on the team. And if that wasn't enough, Kelvin Bender got hurt midgame. Sanders put our record at risk for some ego b.s. that I can't stand. If you got a problem, bring it up to a coach. Don't take it out on your team."
His eyes roamed towards the freshmen team at one end. "Even if it's a different level. We all represent one school here. No one here should be putting down a fellow ball player. Of any sort." I tensed up. He definitely knows about the bus thing. The coach must have mentioned it.
A hand was raised. I recognized it as Austin.
Coach didn't look bothered by someone interrupting his speech so maybe he isn't that mad. "Yes?"
"Coach Wilcox, I have a problem. A problem with your current varsity roster." Austin put out there. "I believe nepotism is taking place. That's the only reason that can explain why Noah Atkins is still starting even with his horrendous batting average."
"Freakin' shithead." I heard Noah mutter under his breath.
I nodded in agreement. What kind of teammate just calls out another one for being in a slump? Didn't Coach just say not to put one another down?
Coach didn't refute him. He just nodded. "Alright." His eyes scanned the line. "If you and anyone else feels that way, they can attend this afternoon's practice which will be held like a tryout. I'll be accepting catchers, infielders, and outfielders. No need for pitchers. Any current varsity player who feels threatened by this tryout, may attend as well to solidify your spot on the team."
Most of the teens started to talk amongst themselves, excited about what could be.
"Shut it. This isn't free time." Coach commanded, raising his voice. "I'm still mad about everyone's attitude and lack of effort. This morning, we will be running. Running short and long distances. More than half of you look like you have too much energy..so much so, that you even think of putting others down." He looked to his line of coaches. "Start them with shuttle sprints."
Coach then looked to that Austin guy. "As for you, since you think you have the same ability as Noah, why don't you play a game of cat and mouse with him." He looked our way. "Noah!"
"Yes!" Noah stepped up.
"You and him will be running around the track. And I mean running." He emphasized. "You'll be the mouse. He will be the cat, trying to catch you. You two won't stop until the cat gets the mouse, or the mouse bites the back of the cat. Understand?"
"Yes!" Noah took off on the spot. He got off the grass and onto the track and started his run. The run that I wouldn't be able to keep up with.
"You better get going, son." Coach told Austin. "If I see him catch you, then I don't think you're ready for varsity."
Austin clenched his fist, turned on his heel, and started to run on the track as well.
"Coach? Will I also be doing shuttle sprints?" Dave asked, raising his bandaged hand.
Coach frowned as if having an internal debate before giving a nod. "Do the best you can. Until the throbbing becomes too much. Do you have an appointment set up yet?"
Dave nodded. "Mom made it for after lunch." He looked guilty. "Am I going to be in trouble if I miss the afternoon practice?"
Coach shook his head. "It's completely voluntary. I prefer if the pitchers didn't come anyways. Less people present means less work for me." He looked to his coaches. "Time them for the sprints!" He turned and walked off to the side, eyes following the two running laps on the track.
I swallowed down as much anxiety as I could.
