"Very rarely." Kenny shrugged, helpless. "It probably won't happen. Really, just remind yourself that this is a showcase. If it's any consolation, if the ball is hit to you, then someone else on the other team is shining. Getting some attention from the coaches."
I sighed with relief and nodded. That's something. For the other players. I could tell how important it was to the majority that were here, to get some attention from coaches and scouts. I wasn't interested in this though.
"Do you think...about whether you want to play in college or go pro after high school?" Kenny asked, nervous.
I shrugged. "Not really." His nervousness didn't ease. I raised an eyebrow. "Do you?"
He nodded. "Of course. I didn't think that there would be any baseball players that don't think about going pro. Most athletes in all sports have it on their mind. Even for a second." He glanced at me.
"Well, what do you want to do?" I asked, avoiding talking about my future.
"The majors is a pipe dream for me. A good college is important, but it depends on scholarships." He seemed depressed. "I'll go wherever the most money is. Even if that means going somewhere small if it's free."
"I think you're good." I told him. "You can get on base."
He gave a depreciating smile. "I'm an outfielder who can't hit homeruns. I'm definitely not on the top of anyone's list for recruits."
"Who says you can't hit homeruns?" I frowned.
He lifted his two thin arms. "There's no power here."
I stuck out my arm to put it with his. Just about the same. "It's not about having big muscles." I think. "Even if it was, you can work out to get them. Zeke makes me run and do a workout most days, back home. I've gotten a lot stronger over time." I looked away, avoiding eye contact. "In the beginning I could barely do anything. Now," I made a fist. "Now, I'm trying to hit homeruns for the rest of this camp."
Kenny blinked. "You're crazy. But, crazy good." He showed a small smile. "I wish I had your confidence at the plate."
Confidence?
I nodded. That's true. There's no longer any fear when I bat. Instead, I'm calm and anxious all at the same time. I'm calm, knowing I can bat well and most likely put the ball into play, yet anxious not to let my team down.
I looked over at the field, where my team just got a third out. It was time to play defense again. I grabbed my glove and jogged out with Kenny.
After getting a groundout, the new pitcher on the mound allowed a fly ball to right field. My heart almost stopped. I kept my eye on the ball as it came falling down, raising my glove to make the catch. I used my other hand to make sure the ball stayed in the glove.
I just made my first official catch in the outfield. Wow. That wasn't so bad. I threw the ball back to the infield and walked back to where I should be standing according to Kenny's hints.
It turned out to be my only catch of the game. Our pitching held it together for the last couple of innings, with no more hits. A lot of ground balls to the infielders left me feeling a little bored in the outfield. The only consolation I got was from my last at-bat. I got the ball over the left field fence once again.
"I have a feeling that you're going to be making some big splashes by the time next season rolls around." Rhys told me on our way to the cafeteria.
Kenny had just split away from us, seeing a few guys he knew from elsewhere, leaving just me and Rhys.
I scratched my cheek, feeling a little shy. "We'll see."
"No, I'm positive. I believe in you." Rhys said. "Even if it's like today, one in three at-bats is a homerun, then no one is going to want to face you."
I hesitated and asked, "Like in the championship game?"
Rhys went blank for a second, then recalled the CIF championship game he watched us play in. I had been intentionally walked twice. Even worse, Zeke was intentionally walked for all four of his at-bats. "I, uh, actually, I'm not sure."
My shoulders dropped, my excitement lost.
Rhys gave me a pat on the shoulder. "You can't possibly be walked every at-bat for the whole entire season. Even Zeke got to bat up until the championship game, right?"
"I don't know...he got a lot of intentional walks before that too." I pointed out. "Like in the semifinals."
"Yes..." Rhys thought for a minute. "But you know, when Zeke was a sophomore on the varsity team, he never got walked."
"Did he not hit well?" I asked, curious.
Rhys laughed. "He was a hitter for sure."
"Then why..?"
"Why didn't he get walked?" Rhys finished for me. I nodded. "I think it has something to do with age. No senior likes taking the mound and then being told to walk an underclassmen. Pitchers have superiority complexes. They have to be the best out there."
"Then what about the times we did get walked?" I wrinkled my nose, not understanding.
"Well, the playoff games are easy. They are the 'playoff' games. You can't be selfish on the mound. You have to follow the coach's instructions and follow the game plan, even if that means intentionally walking the other team's best batters." He explained. "Then there are other situations that walking a batter is a better option. You have to take into account the score of the game, how much the game matter's, and then the matchup of pitcher and batter."
"Ah." I was slowly starting to understand. "So you think I won't get walked all the time?"
"Probably not." He grinned. "But if you smash a homer every game, then it might be a different story."
"Jake!" I heard Noah's yell.
I looked up and saw him running towards us with a big grin on his face. We met him at the entrance of the cafeteria.
"Guess what?!!" Noah looked between us.
"I'm guessing you had a good game?" Rhys threw out his guess.
"A great game!" Noah corrected. "I went 3-3 at the plate! All doubles!" He spoke quickly like we might interrupt his train of thought. "I probably could have legged one out to be a triple, but it was too close to tell and I didn't want to risk it. So instead, I stole third base!"
"You were abled to steal third?" Rhys was shocked. "That's impressive! Congrats."
Noah grinned. "They made a throwing error when trying to catch me too, so I was abled to make it home all on my own. It was exhilarating. I hope to steal more bases in the future. Use speed to cover up my lack of power."
"Spoken like a true shortstop." Rhys laughed.
"Coach Rhys?" A young player called out from a few feet away. "Do you have a minute?"
"Sure." Rhys gave him a friendly smile. He glanced at us. "You guys go ahead. I'll see you after dinner."
"Okay." I replied.
Rhys left us to go see what the player needed.
"Rhys is a good person to be a counselor." Noah stated. "He's kind, smart, and approachable. He doesn't look down on others even before his surgery." He sighed. "It's crazy to think his high school team didn't want him anymore."
"Is it?" I raised an eyebrow at Noah.
Noah caught my meaningful look. "It's different for Rhys. He was the captain of his team as a junior like Zeke. He was a leader, on and off the field. Helped everyone with everything. If you need a tutor for a class, he would take the time to explain the material. If you were struggling with your swing and needed some extra batting practice, he didn't mind throwing some more pitches." Noah rambled on. "For him to give up baseball his senior year, it killed him to see that they didn't care. For me, I'm just mad." He backtracked. "I WAS mad. Now, I'm okay."
"Are you?" I asked, knowing that the high school camp was next week. Noah sure wasn't okay when he found out that we couldn't play for his old travel team anymore. And that was barely two months ago.
Noah smirked. "I'll definitely be okay after showing them up next week. I'll crush them completely in every drill and every scrimmage. I won't give them any chance to say that I made the team because of Zeke."
My lips twitched. It didn't really sound like Noah was over it. More like, he was plotting revenge. Except, there wasn't much we can do when baseball is a team sport. "What can I do to help?"
Noah grinned. "I'll point out the pitchers that need your special attention."
