With it being numerical order, I was stuck behind Noah again. This time, there was no worry or pressure.
"It's weird to see it so packed and busy." Noah commented as we waited for our turn.
I nodded in agreement. Last time we were here, only one station was open and there were tarps to keep it more private. Now, the tarps are all gone and all three cages are going. Our group was in the middle, while two other groups were on either side of us. Each cage had two people running it: one with a clipboard and one controlling the machine. Chandler was in charge of calling out our number and sending us in.
I started to count the pitches that each player got. It wasn't any set amount, and instead it varied from 25-35 pitches.
I wasn't the only one to notice. The guy in front of Noah asked Chandler how many pitches each person would get.
Chandler shrugged. "Until the judges are satisfied."
"Is it all one speed?" Noah asked. "Last time we were here, they had a machine that could randomized the speeds."
Chandler squinted at him. "You've been here before?"
Noah nodded. "During my brother's recruitment visit. Some of the guys, Shawn and Nick, had taken us to the cages for some fun."
Chandler looked surprised. "Oh." He put on a much more relaxed expression. "There's only one machine like that so we aren't using it to save on time. Plus, after this station, we'll go to the field so we can see you guys hit against a real pitcher."
"So it's all one speed?" Travis asked from behind me.
I shook my head and answered before Chandler could. "No. They've been starting it around 75mph, but have been upping the speed slowly. Usually at 85mph they've been stopping."
"You can tell?" Travis was astounded.
"You can't?" I tried stepping to the side so he could have a better view.
"I'm glad you said something before I went up." Noah frowned as we watched someone else's turn. "I don't think I would have realized with the slow increases."
I made a face. How could he not realize? I glanced at Chandler and found him staring at us. I hurriedly looked away.
"Did your brother end up committing to go here or somewhere else?" Chandler asked.
"Here!" Noah grinned. "He's actually one of the counselors like you. Zeke Atkins."
Chandler gave a nod and didn't say anything else about it.
Noah's turn came and he went in the cage with a smile, full of confidence. I stood behind with Chandler nearby. Chandler called out Noah's number and the pitching machine came to life. Noah was steady in the beginning, hitting with power. Doing those core exercises have really stabilized his balance. As he got more pitches, the speed began to increase. I clenched the handle of my bat.
"Do you need any batting gloves?" I heard Chandler ask.
I glanced down at my bare hands then at him. "No. This is how I normally hit."
"You don't get blisters?" He frowned.
I shrugged. "If I do, it doesn't bother me. I like holding my bat with my bare hands."
"And risk injury?"
It was my turn to frown. I didn't reply.
"Are you accustomed to using a wooden bat?" Chandler asked.
I nodded.
"How long have you been hitting with it?"
"A few months now." I held my bat tight.
Luckily, he didn't say anything else about my bat. There was no way I was going back to an aluminum bat. Not now, not ever. No one could push me on this matter.
Noah was given 32 pitches before being told that he was done. He came out with a smile. "It definitely helped knowing that the speed was increasing. Helped me time my swing."
Chandler pursed his lips. He looked at my sticker and then announced it to those behind the machine.
I stepped in, then paused. I glanced back at Chandler. "Do I get to hit twice as much as a switch hitter?"
Chandler shook his head. "Just pick one side."
Boo. I sighed and picked the lefty's box. It was what I practice most lately. I got set and then machine whirred. First pitch came, I smacked a line drive back the way it came. 75mph wasn't even close to being a challenge. Not from a machine. Like I saw for the others, they slowly raised the speed after a couple of pitches. I returned every pitch as a line drive, hitting the netting just above the machine.
After twenty pitches, I was resigned to the fact that my time was coming up. Only a few more left. I hit thirty pitches, yet…it continued. No one said anything to me about stopping and I wasn't going to remind them. As I got more into the zone, sounds started to fade. Eventually, I couldn't even hear the sound coming from the other cages on either side of me.
Wait. That can't be right. I took a quick glance between pitches and realized that they had stopped. Maybe they were done and a new group was coming in? But on both sides? That's a little too coincidental…
I glanced again and spotted those in the left cage were standing at the fence, watching me swing. Both the players and coaches.
I hit 60 pitches by now and the speed was up to 90mph. Well…if they're going to let me hit, then I'll continue hitting until someone says stop. I was given another ten pitches, hitting a total of 70. Then I hit 80. 90. 100. The speed of the ball didn't affect me at all. I just kept stepping and swinging, sending the ball back with precision. This is what I like most. No head games or breaking balls. Just a ball that kept coming.
"I think that's enough." A familiar voice said from behind me and saw that it was Coach Leroy. This was the guy that let Noah and I come on a discount because he was Zeke's future coach.
I took a step back and let the ball hit the padding. It was then that I realized that everyone was watching me. My group. The groups on either side of us. And there was a fourth group waiting a few yards back. I turned red from embarrassment.
Coach Leroy opened the gate so I could exit. He glanced at the coaches behind the machine. "We're on a time limit here. If you were waiting for something different to happen, then we'd be here all morning."
My face was now on fire. I hung my head and exited the cage, allowing Travis a turn. "Sorry." I mumbled.
Coach Leroy gave me a pat on the helmet. "Nothing to apologize for. You followed the rules: hit until they told you to stop." He grinned as I looked up at him. "You did well. Full marks."
He took me to the back of the line where Noah was. "If Zeke didn't warn me beforehand, I'm afraid you would hog the machine until your arms fell off."
I shook my arms. "They feel kind of tired now. The last half were nothing but 90+."
Coach Leroy replied. "I think it's best if I follow your group to the next station." He laughed. "Otherwise you'll hit until you get tired or injured. One or the other."
