The rest of Sunday was easygoing as we hung out watching Kaylee hit and talked about school stuff. We did play more games inside, running into Justin one more time before he was leaving. He nodded and said a quick goodbye before walking out with his bag of catching gear.
"We should have asked what school he plays for." Noah mused.
"Does it matter?" Kaylee raised an eyebrow. "It's not like you would care. I saw you getting chummy with that Servite pitcher. He's a direct rival."
"I guess it would only matter if he was on San Marino." Noah said thoughtfully.
I immediately nodded in agreement.
"What's the deal with them?" Kaylee had never seen them since we only played them in the tournament at the beginning of the year. She had her own team and schedule to worry about.
"Bad blood. A bunch of cheaters." Noah said.
I nodded again. "Very aggressive."
"You think everyone's aggressive." She rolled her eyes.
"No, I don't..." Once I know them anyways.
Alisha's mom showed up to get us all. She took Noah and I home first. On the way, Alisha told her about taking Driver's Ed and she was completely on board, asking to speak to our mom when she showed up. Noah ran in to get Mom as I took my bag upstairs. I had to put away this well-used bat before I forgot.
Mom spent almost half an hour talking with Alisha's mom about classes. They had some in mind and Alisha's mom would run the idea with Kaylee's mom when she went to drop her off. We later got a text from Kaylee saying it took some convincing, but it was happening. We would be signing up for Driver's Ed soon, probably in the next opening.
Over Sunday dinner, the twins talked about how there was a third victim from Friday night. Austin from the JV team. Noah had laughed outright and said he deserved it.
"Aren't you worried that we'll be next?" Kyle asked.
"If we are, it's because you guys pissed someone off." Noah pointed his fork at him.
"I think it's less about pissing someone off because the three have little in common besides location and sport. But even then, softball isn't the same as baseball." Dave speculated. "So my guess is that it was merely a crime of opportunity."
"Just teens being teens." Grampa chuckled. "Actually it's pretty mild for teenagers. I remember back in my day..."
The weekend slowly came to a close as we did some last minute homework and prepped our backpacks and baseball bags for tomorrow.
I woke up early Monday morning to Noah cursing.
"Freakin' stupid fingers. What did I ever do to you?!" He let out a few more expletives.
"You let them get smooshed on a bad bunt." Dave answered.
"Shut up." Noah grumbled.
I peered over to get a look at his fingers. They had fluid in them again. I made a face. "That sucks. What are you going to do?"
"I'm going to rip the excess skin off and put a bandaid on it." Noah headed for the bathroom.
"Not really advisable." Dave said after him.
"Don't care. I'm not a pitcher so it's not like I need to be too picky. I just need to be able to throw a baseball." Noah said from the bathroom. He only took a minute to do what he said, coming back with a bandaid wrapped around each finger.
"You're a gambling man alright." Kyle laughed. "Imagine what Drew and Coach are going to say when you show up like that. You might as well join us in the bullpen today because you're not getting on that field."
Kyle had it pegged. After school, on our way down to the varsity field, Drew caught sight of Noah and hollered for him to come over to the trainer's room.
Noah waved with his left hand. "No thanks! I'm good today! Ready to play!"
Drew didn't believe it for a second. I don't whether he had trust issues or if he just knew how some athletes were, but he started to jog our way.
Noah elbowed me. "Why are you looking guiltier than me?"
I shrugged, feeling guilty. "I don't know. Out of habit I guess. Whenever I see him, I think I'll have to run."
Drew held out his hand. "Let me have a look and I'll give you the all clear for your coach."
Noah slowly took his hand out. "Well, it's already bandaged so-"
Drew took the bandaids off. His face twitched. He took a deep breath. Then slowly let it out. "Why are you so impatient?"
Noah shrugged and took his hand back. "It's fine. No big deal. It won't hurt much. Just gotta get used to it."
Drew stared at him. Noah looked back at him, feigning innocence. Drew sighed. "You still won't be playing today. Follow me back and let's get some healing cream and new bandage on it. Tomorrow...we'll leave it up to your coach."
Noah wasn't satisfied, but what more could he do? He followed Drew back to the trainer's room and I continued to walk to the lower field. I met up with the twins by the car to get our bags out. I told them that Drew caught Noah and he wouldn't be playing today.
Kyle closed the trunk after we got our three bags out. "Sucks to suck. He should have known that was coming and not fight it."
"What if Coach wants to use him as a pinch hitter or pinch runner?" I asked, looking at Noah's bag through the window.
"No way. If Drew says no, the answer is no." Kyle said. "Besides. I looked up these guys last night. It'll be easy peasy. Heck, I'll even bet that it's a called game in five."
"I'll take that bet." Dave stuck out his hand. "Loser cleans bathrooms this weekend."
Kyle shook his hand. "Deal. I'm in."
Dave looked at me. "Sorry, kid. But I hope you sit the bench today."
I laughed. "You think I'm the key to it being a called game?"
"The biggest key." Dave nodded. "But hopefully these guys know to walk you."
I made a face at him.
"Pitchers are also a big key." Kyle added. "I'm thinking Marshel has a lot of pent up energy and will go hard. Probably wouldn't be able to do more than five innings."
"Or he could stumble a little like Joey did." Dave countered.
The two went back and forth as we walked to our clubroom to get dressed and ready.
Coach had the starting lineup posted early for everyone to see.
1 SS Dalton Nelson
2 1B Sean Isner
3 2B Jake Atkins
4 CF Garret Knudsen
5 LF Korrey Alvarrez
6 RF Jesse Shipman
7 3B Jason Morris
8 C Mitchell Torres
9 P Marshel Butler
It was a solid lineup. One that fulfilled Kyle's prediction and expectations of a called game. Defensively, Marshel looked great on the mound. More focused than Joey. He did all five innings, only giving up one hit. He had no walks and seven strikeouts. The only complaint I had was that most of the outs were in the air, either line outs or fly outs. Thankfully, none to me.
Dave was also wrong about me getting walked. These guys didn't care and just seemed to want to play baseball. My first at bat did result in a walk because the pitcher was wild. He had walked Sean before me too. Garret made him pay for letting us two on, hitting a homer to center, giving us an early 3-0 lead. Next time around, Sean walked again, but I got a good one, pulling a pitch down the left field line for a home run of my own, making it 5-0 after three innings. In the fourth, Mitchell joined the home run gang with a solo shot to left as well. 6-0. Then, in the fifth, we went on a hitting spree against a new pitcher. Sean doubled. I singled. Garret singled and drove in Sean. 7-0. Korrey doubled, driving in me and Garret. 9-0. Jesse got caught looking at strike three. But Jason doubled to drive in Korrey to make it 10-0 and the game was called.
"Solid performance." Coach clapped Marshel on the back. "Good work out there." He looked around. "Tomorrow, we're hitting the road. We'll eat lunch here then meet near the upper lot for the bus. We're riding with the girl's varsity softball team as the lower levels stay here. I believe the games will be played back to back due to personnel issues. Means we won't make it back until late. Talk to your teachers and get a handle on your homework. I don't want there to be any issues with grades as we approach playoffs."
"The varsity team has never had an issue with grades, Coach." Garret spoke up. "We all take school very seriously and know what's on the line if we fail a class."
"What's on the line?" I asked.
"You get benched indefinitely if they catch you failing during the season." Noah told me.
"Oh." I looked around and no one seemed to be nervous. That's good.
