Chapter 659 V2 ch131
Marc got in the righty's box, digging his back foot in. His bat moved, twirling in his hands, only pausing as the pitcher got set and started his motion. The first pitch passed for a called strike down the middle.
I gripped my bat a little tighter. That was a good pitch. Why didn't he swing? I watched on: called strike, ball in the dirt, ball outside, foul ball, and then finally a solid connection.
Marc took off sprinting as the ball dropped in front of the left field. He rounded first like he was going to make it a double, but then came back after a glance.
"Good decision making." I heard Coach Nate say.
I glanced back at him and saw that he was standing right behind me. His attention was on the game, but that didn't stop him from sharing his insights with the team.
"Wouldn't it be better if he got into scoring position on second?" Someone asked.
"My instructions for Marc and Kenny were to get on base. Jake will bring them home." I straightened up when he mentioned my name. "Playing against a new team with unknown strengths, who can say for sure that the left fielder wouldn't have thrown him out?"
"But now Kenny could hit into a double play..." Someone else commented, making the dugout go silent.
Coach Nate looked at me. "Why aren't you on deck yet?"
He caught me by surprise, making me jump. I hurried out of the dugout and got in the on deck circle. I swung my bat around lightly, but could no longer hear Coach Nate. Which was a bummer. I wanted to know what I should do if he really does hit into a double play. He said I should drive in runs, but if no one is on base, the only run I can drive in is my own. By a homerun.
I focused on Kenny's at-bat. Coach Nate said the three of us were the best hitters on the team so I don't actually believe that he'll hit into a double play. He has to be better than that. If I was him, to try to avoid a double play, I would put the ball in the air. Have to get it to the outfield. Worst case scenario, he'll hit a fly out.
Watching his at-bat, I could see that he had the same thoughts. He had fouled the ball back four times now, meaning that he was getting under the ball. Just...no solid contact yet.
Kenny was tall, but very thin, almost as skinny as me. It can't be healthy since he's already so tall. I thought about the awkwardness he showed when he asked me to throw the ball with him and when he had asked Coach Nate a question. We were very similar in that aspect: nervous around strangers. Yet, when he was in the batter's box, he didn't look nervous at all. Comfortable, focused, and balanced. Every swing was a swing with purpose.
The count went full, 3-2, but it was already the ninth pitch. The pitcher looked frustrated and annoyed. His face darkened when the ump called his following pitch, a ball. Ball four. A walk. He tossed his bat towards our dugout as he jogged to first. Marc moved to second.
I spared the bat a glance, but didn't move to pick it up. Instead, I pretended not to see it and move to the batter's box. I've been batting lefty all day so I saw no reason to change anymore. It's just tomorrow, I'll bat right to feel more at ease.
As I got set, I took a look at the outfield. They weren't drawn in, but were slightly shifted like they expect me to hit it towards the opposite field. The left fielder was almost playing the line. I think someone from my group may have told them about my homerun earlier. Or a coach. Like Coach Nate said, we don't know their strengths and they shouldn't know ours. So why the shift?
They obviously don't know me well enough though. With this kind of shift, the right field corner was wide open. Too easy.
On the very first pitch, I swung and made contact, pulling it to right field. The first baseman jumped for it, but was a step too late. He came down empty-handed and everyone was in motion. The right fielder had to sprint to the ball rolling to the outfield wall. Marc and Kenny both had good jumps, running around the bases without hesitation.
I had made it to first and sprinted to second, stumbling on my way. My legs were tired from the afternoon run and couldn't do what I wanted them to do. I was simply lucky that the ball rolled to a good spot so the right fielder was unable to throw me out.
On the relay throw, they tried to get the tag on Kenny at the plate, but it wasn't in time either. Two runs scored and I was at second. Success. I looked to the dugout and saw a few of the guys clapping and high-fiving those who had returned. Rhys gave me two thumbs up.
I sighed with relief.
Sadly our offense died after my hit. Pop out. Strikeout. Groundout. The pitcher practically stomped off the mound, clearly unsatisfied with his first inning.
I jogged back to the dugout and was immediately greeted by Rhys. He held out my glove and hat. I handed him my helmet and took the two other items. "Thanks."
"No problem. You did well under pressure." He told me.
"No pressure." I shrugged.
Rhys lifted an eyebrow. "I felt like we were a bit demanding. A hit to drive in runs."
I shrugged again. "I prefer instructions." I turned red. "Zeke used to tell me what to do when we first started playing, but now I have to figure it out on my own." I looked up at him. "I don't usually know what to do."
Rhys laughed. "Well, not everyone has your gift in hitting. Just do what you can today."
I nodded, then turned to jog out to the field.
After a short warmup, the bottom of the inning started. It was getting late now and the sun was setting, forcing us to rely on the stadium lights. It was an odd feeling, being in a big empty stadium.
I glanced at the players and coaches in the stands. Well, it wasn't completely empty. They weren't cheering one way or the other though. It looked like they were studying the game instead. I squinted and tried to find a familiar face in the crowd...like Noah or Zeke. But nope. I did recognize a couple from the evaluations, but couldn't recall their names.
Our pitcher had a better start, going three up, three down, in order. Groundout, groundout, strikeout. Nicolas grinned on our way back to the dugout as a few of the guys complimented him.
"Well done, Nic." Coach Nate told him inside the dugout. "You're done for tonight so take a seat." He looked at Rhys. "Tell the next pitcher to be ready to start the second."
Rhys nodded and picked up the dugout phone, directly calling the bullpen.
Nic's smile weakened and he sat down close to the end of the dugout. Close to me that is.
"Ryan, you'll pinch hit for Nic." Coach Nate started to instruct again. "Depending on the situation, you'll either take the field afterwards or sit for the rest of the game." He turned his attention to someone else.
Nic sighed and slumped in his seat.
I awkwardly sat a few feet away, unsure if I should say anything or not. In the end, I chose not to say anything unless he spoke to me first. Which, he didn't. Thank goodness.
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