Chandler let us run through this drill a couple of times and then moved onto the next: practicing rundowns.
"Everyone will take turns being the runner." Chandler told us. "Tips to keep in mind for fielders: use the fewest number of throws as possible and don't let the runner advance."
I frowned, unsure of what he meant. Aren't we supposed to just get the runner out? I nudged Noah.
Noah raised his hand. "Can you elaborate for us?"
Chandler glanced at him, then at me, then moved his eyes throughout the group. "The goal is to use the fewest throws as possible. Preferably two. You have to cut down the chances for an errant throw. The key to doing this is to run hard at the baserunner, forcing him to commit, before making the throw to your partner." He continued. "Making sure the runner doesn't advance is self-explanatory. Always try to make the runner go in the direction of a smaller base. For example, if you have him caught between second and third, run him towards second."
Oh. I nodded. It makes sense.
Chandler looked like he was going to let us begin, but he paused for a second. He glanced around at everyone. "How many of you practice rundowns with your teams?"
Only half raised their hands.
Chandler nodded, yet was frowning. He glanced at me and Noah. "Weren't you two on a championship team?"
Noah shrugged. "So?"
"So you haven't practiced rundowns?" He asked.
Noah shrugged. "Maybe once or twice. Not too often. It's kind of expected that we know what to do before we make varsity."
Chandler nodded in agreement. "Okay, good. So you two can go up first."
I coughed.
"Well." Noah spoke up, understanding my unspoken signal. "Jake…he made the team for his batting skills. Everything else…is rather new to him."
Chandler looked suspicious.
"He's never been on a team before." Noah explained. "Just batting cages. So, we've just been teaching him everything else as we go."
There was a moment of silence from everyone, including Chandler. I shifted from foot to foot, uncomfortable with the looks. They know…that I only have one skill. Gotta own up to it. I've come a long way. I straightened up and made brief eye contact with Chandler.
Chandler pointed at a few of the guys. "You'll run. And you, you, and you will be the fielders." The four got into place to try to practice a rundown, but Chandler started another explanation. "First step of all rundowns, is getting the ball. Whether that's from the pitcher or catcher or whoever. You catch the ball and then transfer it to your throwing hand. This way, you'll be able to either tag the runner or throw to your teammate."
I paid attention to Chandler's speech. He was a good coach, covering every step of how to do a rundown.
"Choose a throwing path. Make sure you and your teammate are on the same side of the runner. You have to avoid hitting the runner, and you have to have a clear line of sight. Then, like I said earlier, run him down, preferably back to the base he came. Run hard, and run fast. Make the runner commit, then either tag him or throw to the receiving infielder. If you do make the throw, follow it." Chandler instructed. "Peel off and follow to where you threw the ball, get in line and be ready to receive again if you have to. Things to keep in mind: staying out of the baseline so you don't interfere with the runner and cause him to be automatically safe. Secure the ball for a tag. Hold the ball in your throwing hand when you're running, but when making the tag, you have to keep the ball secure so wrap your glove around the throwing hand. You have to be quick and think on your feet. Most importantly: communicate."
He motioned for the first group to begin.
Chandler was in complete coaching mode all morning. For any mistakes made, he didn't make fun of anyone or give them disapproving looks. All he did was correct them on what they should have done and made sure that our whole group knew what to do as well.
By lunch time, I was completely dead on my feet, but I felt like I had never learn so much. The Atkins taught me a lot about baseball, but it was always the basics. I finally feel like a real baseball player now.
"Chandler was in a good mood today." Travis said as we headed to the cafeteria together.
Most of the group members nodded in agreement.
"I really see him more as a coach than as a player." Adam spoke up. "It's crazy to think he's only a few years older than us."
Oh yea..
"Do you think he's any good?" Someone asked in a low voice.
"Check his numbers online."
"I'll do it!" Noah volunteered, pulling his phone out. "Hmm. Looks like he's a starter. His batting average this year was .270, that's pretty good. Only one error all season at second base. He didn't hit a whole lot of homeruns, but his on base percentage indicates that he gets walked a lot."
"Players like him are a dime a dozen." Someone scoffed. I recognized him from yesterday. He wasn't a good person it seemed. "Like the saying goes: those who can't do, teach. He's not going to succeed, so he'll be stuck coaching all his life. Won't even get a glimpse of going pro." The guy took the lead and walked ahead of us with a couple of others following him.
"What a sour grape." Noah rolled his eyes. "I think Chandler is good. You don't become a great coach by being a crappy player. We don't know him, only his numbers."
"I think he's good too."
"Really helpful today."
"Better than any of my high school coaches."
Most of the guys from our group agreed that Chandler was good. But…no one spoke up about him making it in the pros.
I mentioned this to Noah as we stood in line for food inside the cafeteria.
Noah shrugged. "Nothing is for sure. He might. He might not. He might make it in the minor league system and then die out. Heck, maybe he doesn't want to be a pro. The future is uncertain." He made a face. "That's why a lot of people say Zeke might not make it back to the draft. He can be a bust in college."
I was surprised that Noah would say that.
"I don't believe it though." Noah laughed. "We know Zeke. Nothing would stop him from making it." He clenched his fist. "And I'll be right behind him."
I smiled. Noah had unwavering faith in himself and his family.
We joined the familiar faces at a long table and started to eat. Everyone talked about their morning practices with a few complaints squeezed in.
Our middle infielders group had the least amount complaints, as in, almost none.
Meanwhile, Landon could only cry about his arms. "We went straight to the gym. No baseball at all. Just weightlifting and conditioning." He laid his face on the table. "Why is this happening to me? Yesterday was the long run and now this morning was nothing but lifting and sprints. Isn't this a baseball camp?!"
Adam chuckled. "We have a game this afternoon. Are you going to make it?"
He sat up. "Of course! My first chance to show off on the field! How can I pass that up?"
Ansar looked to Noah. "We have a game this afternoon too. Do you think they'll be our opponents?"
Noah grinned. "I can only hope so. What field are you guys on this afternoon?"
"The practice field." Adam answered.
"Same!" Cody grinned. "Guess we'll have to face one another immediately. Sorry to tell you that we'll be one step closer to winning the bonus prize."
Travis threw a wadded up napkin at him. "How do you know? It's too soon to say!"
