I guess I made my decision. It won't hurt to try again, especially since I'll get a chance to go in the righty's box. I gave Noah the go-ahead nod.
He looked back at the guys. "We're in. Double or nothing. Whoever gets most hits win. Jake gets to bat right-handed. As winners, we choose to still go second." He raised an eyebrow. "Unless you've got a problem and need the kid to go first?"
The baldy sneered. "Yea, right. In case you missed it, Tyler had more hits. Your friend couldn't do nothing but foul. You're in over your head, brat." He looked at Tyler. "Show them how it's done. Just getting the same amount of hits again will do it."
Tyler put his helmet back on and got back in the cage, swaggering with a bigger attitude than a loser should have. He slid his token in and got ready.
"Foul. Foul. Hit. Hit. Hit. Hit. Hit. Foul. Hit. Hit. Hit. Hit." Baldy called out the result of every pitch. Every time he called out hit, I felt my heart grow heavier. He went from seven hits to nine. No misses. I feel slightly hustled. This guy is obviously a star on whatever team he's on. Why do they feel the need to challenge us? Just because of Noah's smack talk? Weird.
"Nine out of twelve isn't bad." Noah commented as Tyler walked out of the cage. "Too bad, Jake can do better." He handed me a token. "Here. You ran out right? You can easily hit more than him."
I started to sweat. Where does Noah get this sky high confidence from? He's not even the one going in the cage.
"Stop stalling." Baldy glared at us.
I swallowed down my anxiety and forced my legs to move. This is definitely the most nervous I've felt in a batting cage ever.
"Worst case scenario isn't the end of the world Jake. Stop looking like you're going to your own funeral." Noah said.
Noah is right. I took a deep breath and let it out slowly, releasing my tension. Worst case scenario is just going home. I can always tell Noah that I don't want the bat so Mrs. Atkins doesn't have to buy it. There's a lot of ways to save up money to buy it myself.
I put in the token Noah gave me and got into the righty's box. I should just use this opportunity to see what I can do now that I can adjust my swing and try for hits.
The first pitch arrived in the time it took to blink. I swung my bat, keeping a good grip. Foul. Okay, not bad. I got set again for the next pitch. I just need to lower my shoulder to get the appropriate angle to hit the ball. The pitch came and I sent it back the way it came. Hit. Good. What a relief. I tried to keep the same stance and motions. Hit. Hit. Hit. Hit. Hit. Hit. After the eight hit on the ninth pitch, I heard an unusual sound. It was hard to describe. It sounded like someone punching a wall? Like when the plaster gives.
I was swinging at the next pitch when I finally figured it out. It was my bat. Crack! Pieces of my bat flew with the ball, and the rest split apart in my hands. I quickly stepped out of the batters box and let the rest of the pitches go by, before picking up what pieces I could. Then I slowly left the cage and immediately looked at Noah with disbelief all over his face. I'm sure I mirrored what he was feeling. I never broke a bat before. I've never even seen a broken bat before. Oh crap.
