The bottom of the second didn't go as smoothly as the first. My team was still making contact, but not to open spaces. Mahki hit a line drive to the third baseman, who had no trouble handling the ball. Zeke was able to launch the ball to left field, yet it fell short of the fence. The left fielder caught the fly ball on the warning track. Julian hit a grounder, but it wasn't fast enough to get by the third baseman. He scooped it up and threw it to first before Julian could get there.
We were still winning 7-0, but that half inning definitely took some wind out of our sail. The crowd wasn't as rowdy as we took the field to start the third inning.
Dave was still throwing with power and speed. He was working on the bottom of the lineup, getting batter number seven to strikeout. Batter eight hit a bloop single to left field, but Dave bounced back with another strikeout from batter nine.
The leadoff batter didn't swing in a hurry with his second at-bat. He was patient and made Dave work to throw strikes that weren't hittable. Dave slipped up and ended up walking him. With runners on first and second, I was starting to feel my anxiety go up a notch, but I reminded myself that there were two outs and we had a good, solid lead.
The next batter got jammed with an inside pitch, barely putting the ball into play. It bounced just in front of Alex and home plate. The ump called it fair. Alex got out of his squat, scrambled for the ball, then threw it to Julian at first base, finishing off Quincy's offense.
We went back to our dugout.
"Ah, my perfect game disappeared so soon." Dave grumbled, slumping on the bench.
A couple of guys rolled their eyes, including Noah, who was putting on his batting gloves.
"You're doing fine." Coach told Dave. "Keep it up."
"Does that mean you'll let me compete the whole game??" Dave asked, excited.
"Let's not get ahead of ourselves." Coach told him. "There's plenty of innings left to play."
A pitcher change was announced as Quincy took over the field again.
"Quincy won't be rolling over just because we have a good lead." Coach said for everyone to hear. "They'll be putting in even more effort because they're desperate. The season is coming to an end. Every game matters. Every inning, whether it's offense or defense. It matters." He gave us a small speech as the new pitcher warmed up, then he sent our first three up. "Noah. Jason. Alex. Stay calm, but be wary."
The trio nodded and got ready. Dave also started to put on his helmet, making me want to do the same, but I held myself back. It didn't lower the disappointment I felt though, when my team went three up, three down.
Like before, my teammates were making contact on these pitches, but it just wasn't going anywhere. Noah hit a clean line drive…right to the third baseman. Everyone seemed to sigh at the same time, but Noah's was the loudest. He came back to the dugout with his head down, glaring at his bat like it could be blamed.
Jason and Alex weren't any better. Jason hit a foul pop-up that the catcher caught, and then Alex hit a slow grounder to the pitcher.
I wasn't seeing the abundance of effort that Quincy was trying to show, but for some reason it felt like the momentum shifted away from us.
Dave came out strong in the top of the fourth, proving that we still had a spark. He earned back to back strikeouts against the number three and four batters. It was looking good until the fifth batter smacked a solo shot way over the outfield fence. 7-1. Dave grimaced to himself. No one was a better critic of himself than himself. He corrected himself and earned a third strikeout of the inning to end the inning. It was his tenth already!
Dave wasn't celebrating though. He entered the dugout and pulled one of the coaches aside. It was a pitching coach that I've never spoken to, but he's the one that usually talks to the players on the mound.
"Do you think he's okay?" I asked Noah, putting on my helmet.
"No way." Noah shook his head, looking slightly depressed. "If he was okay, he'd be grabbing his bat. He's supposed to be the first one up."
We watched as Coach approached the two. They talked for a little while, but the umpire had already given the Quincy pitcher time to throw some pitches off the mound.
Coach turned away from the pair and went to the umpire to explain the situation. Dave was coming out of the game. He turned to look in our dugout.
"Brian." He spotted. "Come hit for Dave. Don't think too much out there. You won't have to pitch afterwards."
Brian jumped up and grabbed his gear.
Coach went back to Dave and the pitching coach, probably to talk about whatever's wrong with him or maybe who will be coming out of the bullpen. Zeke joined them after sharing a few words with Brian.
"Did he rip his nail again?"
"Nah, I didn't see any blood."
"Maybe the homerun scared him?"
"No way." Noah shut down the murmuring. "Dave wouldn't give up the mound so easily."
A lot of the guys nodded in agreement. After all, pitchers are quite selfish on the mound, wanting to do everything themselves. At least, that's what it looks like to me.
"Get on deck, Jake." Garret patted my shoulder, slightly pushing me along. He already had his helmet on and bat in hand. We would be following up after Brian.
I left the dugout, glancing at the small circle of Coach, Zeke, Dave, and the pitching coach. They were still talking and now, I could see Drew making his way to them. Dave must be hurt or something. I definitely agreed with Noah, he would never willingly give up the mound. He likes to show off a lot. Especially on a day like today, having all those strikeouts.
I barely took one practice swing in the circle before Brian finished striking out. All those words of 'stay calm' and 'relax' didn't work on him very well.
I moved on up. I worked the count, making the guy throw a total of eleven pitches to me, and then I took my shot. I pulled the ball to right field, getting it over the tall first baseman. I was running to first so I was able to see the right fielder sprinting in. Oh no.
My jaw dropped as I watch the outfielder race to the falling ball, lay out, and dive for it. He rolled in the grass and pop back up, holding his glove high. He caught it. Crud. I wanted to facepalm myself, but right now isn't the time. I turned back and grabbed my bat on the way back to the dugout.
Garret had done better than me by getting on base, earning a walk. It didn't matter though, since Mahki ended the inning with a foul pop-up to the first baseman.
