I got in the righty's box and stretched a little before getting set. Then I faced the pitcher. The San Marino was a teal color and really made him look tan. Kind of like a stereotypical surfer boy with sun bleached hair peeking out of his cap.
He used three strikes to get Noah and must have thought I would expect a strike. It was another curve, but it had too much spin on it, falling too quickly and bounced on the plate for ball one.
"Good eye." Mr. Miller clapped from the third base coach line. I stepped out of the box for a practice swing and then got set once more. I followed the pitchers motion carefully and looked at the release point. This one was a fastball. I swung late and fouled it down the first baseline.
The pitcher looked at me in surprise. That must have been his top speed. Nothing too impressive, hovering in the high 70s. Just like the twins in my eyes. He followed up with three more just like it and I sent them all in the same direction. He sure was adamant about these strikes.
The dugout cheered me on and made me a little nervous. Zeke said before that if I fouled too many times, a pitcher would lose his cool and could throw at me. This definitely seems like the team that would pull that kind of stunt.
The pitcher did look frustrated, but no pitches came at my body. He ended up walking me after sixteen pitches, where I was able to foul twelve. He looked annoyed, but didn't spare me a glance as I jogged to first.
"Way to work it." Coach Luis spared some praise my way as I stepped on first.
Mahki was up next. In the tournament, he was 3 for 6, so it was a 50% chance for a hit. Unfortunately it didn't happen. He flew out to center field and the ball was sent back to the infield. I was still standing on first. I didn't even feign tagging the base and running. Mostly because I didn't really know how, but also because I didn't want to give them a chance to hurt me. Safety first is my life philosophy.
With two outs in the bottom of the first, Zeke came up to bat. His appearance brought about cheering from the stands, dugout, and bullpen. In both games yesterday, Zeke started off with a homerun. This game wasn't any different to him. After a 2-2 count, he blasted one over the left field fence.
I ran around the bases and touched home, with Zeke right on my heels. He picked up his own bat and patted the top of my helmet before accepting the praise from his teammates in the dugout. I followed a few steps behind and watched as all the guys celebrated are 2-0 lead.
I spotted Noah by our bags and headed over. I changed out my helmet for my hat and grabbed my glove. I sat beside him.
"Zeke is a straight up beast." He said once I was seated. I nodded. That's an accurate statement. "I wonder how-" He cut hisself off mid sentence. "Never mind." He sighed.
I curiously looked at him, wondering what was with the depressed atmosphere around Noah even though we were winning. But with Sean's strikeout it was time to take the field again.
Top of the second. Dave was still pitching to contact, but didn't give up any hits. He shut them down with a fly out to short, a groundout to short, then a fly out to left. He flexed his arm in front of me and Noah as we got back inside the dugout.
"Not only did you lose the chance for a perfect game, you don't even have a strikeout." Noah snorted. I let out a smile. Noah sure never minced his words.
Dave was about to reach for him, but a hand on his shoulder made him freeze. He slowly turned and looked up to Zeke.
"You're in the hole." Zeke told him. "Helmet. Bat. Get on base."
Dave gave a tight smile and a nod before leaving us alone.
Zeke looked at us. "Stop antagonizing him."
"It's motivation." Noah laughed.
"Two more laps." Zeke replied, straight faced and walked to coach.
I frowned at Noah. Noah bumped my shoulder with his. "He'll lighten up once we get the win. Maybe he'll take them away like yesterday. Or we can try and give them to Dave."
Unbelievable. I rolled my eyes away from him and looked to the field. The bottom of our lineup would be going out there to start the bottom of the second.
Jason led off for us. He had shown two different sides during yesterday's games. In game one, he did nothing, but in game two, he got a couple of hits. Jason had a tough fight at the plate. He missed the first pitch, then took two balls, fouled one back, fouled another wide of the third baseline, took another ball. With a full count, he was able to send a hard grounder between second and first. He made it to first base without any problems.
The team clapped and the stands cheered. It was a good start. Kelvin was up next. The pitcher must have been shaken or tired or something, but he threw three straight balls. Then kelvin took a called strike. He looked at Mr. Miller. This time Mr. Miller added a new sign compared to what he was doing for the last few pitches. He added an elbow touch. The sign for a steal.
I nervously looked at Noah.
He caught me looking and let out a laugh. "There's no need for you to look so worried. You're not the one running. Not everyone is as bad as you. Kelvin will either take the pitch for ball four, or he might swing and miss big in order to distract the catcher."
Oh. I turned to watch, wondering how Jason looks, stealing second. Maybe I could learn something from him.
