Top of the seventh. Marshel had a small advantage of starting with the eighth batter in the lineup. He did a short walk around mound, then kicked the rubber before getting set. The batter was ready and Mitch gave Marshel the sign. The first pitch came…and went wide. So wide that Mitch had to reach for it off balance. He got up before throwing it back to Marshel.
“At least it was fast…” Dave mumbled under his breath.
“I’ll reserve my judgement a few more pitches in.” Kyle said, sounding disdainful of Dave’s comment.
The second pitch was high, making Mitch pop up out of his crouch. 2-0 count. Mitch threw the ball back and waved his hands, motioning for Marshel to settle. “Good speed.”
Marshel did another small walk around before getting set again. His third pitch stayed in the zone, but the batter had an easy read on it, hitting it to the short outfield for a single.
“Oh man.” Kyle sighed.
“What happened to reserving judgement?” Dave raised an eyebrow.
“I didn’t say my judgement yet.” Kyle shot back.
The ninth batter was replaced with a pinch hitter. We didn’t get to see him action though. He didn’t have to swing once during his at bat as Marshel had thrown four balls, clearly outside of the zone.
Dave and Kyle made eye contact, leaving the words unspoken.
Mitchell went up to the mound to talked to Marshel.
“Want to bet whether Noah speaks to him or not?” Kyle snickered.
“I bet he would.” I hurried to say. I believed in Noah. Nothing could come between him and winning a baseball game. Not even an old feud from last year.
“I’ll ride with Jake on this one.” Dave agreed. “Marshel messes up one more time, I bet Noah goes to the mound and rips him a new one.”
Kyle laughed. “That’s a ripoff.”
Mitchell came back from a short chat with Marshel and squatted down. Marshel checked the runners before throwing a pitch. It was a called strike. Most of the guys around clapped and said some words of encouragement.
“Well, if he gets his head straight, Noah wouldn’t speak to him at all, so you still have a chance.” Dave told Kyle.
We watched Marshel get a little more settled against this batter, getting to a beneficial 1-2 count. But then the batter made contact, hitting a short flare into right field. Tanner sprinted in, caught the ball on a hop and threw it back to the infield as fast as he could. The runners only advanced a base each. Bases loaded. No outs.
Noah called for Dalton to throw the ball to him as he headed for the mound. Dalton shook his head and walked the ball to them at the mound, calling for time. Jason, Jesse, and Mitchell hurried to join.
“Dalton might be afraid that Noah will hurt Marshel’s feelings.” Dave rolled his eyes.
“You’re just jealous that no one defends you.” Kyle laughed.
“At least I got my bad game out of my system.” Dave said. “I can only go up from yesterday. What about you? Going to throw perfect games from here on out? It’ll be hard to keep that up.”
The two bickered back and forth, but my eyes stayed on the mound. Noah kept his mouth covered with his glove and his hat blocked most of his facial expressions from this faraway, but I could see him squinting at Marshel. No doubt, he was telling Marshel to get his act together. The team meeting at the mound lasted until the umpire broke it up. Everyone went back to their positions.
The second batter in the lineup got set in the batter’s box. He was hitless today, yet has mad contact in all three at bats. He could easily get the ball to the outfield. I nervously clenched my fists. I had to keep reminding myself that we had a solid lead. Even a grand slam won’t tie the game.
Marshel threw a series of pitches low in the zone. Some for balls, some for strikes. On a 2-2 count, the batter understood that he wasn’t going to get anything closer than that. He hit the low ball for a grounder up the gut, barely missing Marshel on the bound.<.com>
Noah ran behind second base and scooped the ball up. Sprinted to second and tagged the base before the runner from first could reach, then threw the batter out at first, turning a double play by himself. Everyone cheered. Our team for him. Franklin for the runner on third who had scored their fourth run of the game. 9-4.
Two outs, runner on third.
“What a relief.” Dave nodded. “Noah’s the most reliable behind the mound.”
Kyle nodded in agreement. “That’s the show-off in him. He just has to get the ball; make that play.” He laughed to himself. “His only redeeming trait.”
I frowned at him.
“Kidding.” Kyle stopped laughing and coughed to clear his throat. He stood up. “Let’s get ready to charge the field. One more out to go!” He started to walk towards Coach.
“Charge the field?” I looked to Dave.
“After a win like this; a championship win, we’ll go to the mound and celebrate.” Dave reminded me. “You normally start at second base so you would see us coming from the dugout and bullpen.”
Oh. Right. I nodded and got up with him. The rest of the guys on the bench stood all against the fence, yelling cheers for Marshel as he faced the third batter in the lineup. Another guy who hasn’t gotten a hit.
Marshel must have felt relaxed by the two outs because he looked even better, throwing strikes in the corners of the zone. Much more like himself. He threw a slight breaking ball on a 2-2 count. The batter swung and Mitchell caught the foul tipped strikeout, effectively ending the game. 9-4.
“We won!” Dave shook my shoulders and bolted out of the dugout with the guys.
I hurried to follow, trying not to stand out so much as the team swarmed around Marshel on the mound.
Noah found me first, coming over and giving my shoulder a slap. “The best of the best.”
I grinned back at him and slapped him on the back too. “You made a great play there.”
Noah rolled his eyes. “Let’s stay happy and not talk about the last inning.”
I laughed.
The outfielders and bullpen joined us and we started to congratulate one another. I even slapped Marshel’s hand and told him ‘good game’. He deserved it. He hung in there. We took a good ten minutes celebrating and talking with one another. It probably would have gone on longer if the tournament officials didn’t stop us and ask us to participate in a closing ceremony as the champions.
We were told to line up, facing the stands behind home plate. A couple of older men came around, putting medals around our necks as they announced our whole roster over the speaker system.
“This is the first time in the history of The Foothill Classic, that we had a division three school win the whole thing. Let’s hear it for Watsonville High School one more time.”
The families clapped and yelled for us while others politely clapped. I found Mom and Dad easily now that the crowd was thinning out. Beside them were Jeremy and…Carson. All four were clapping.
“With 11 hits, five of which were homeruns, our tournament MVP, without a doubt, is Watsonville’s Jake Atkins!”
Noah started to shake me by the shoulders while Jason patted the top of my head on the otherside of me. A man came by and handed me a small plaque.
‘FOOTHILL CLASSIC MVP’
