According to Coach, the home team of the finals game was decided by a simple coin toss. 50/50 chance and we lost. Technically. As consolation, we got to pick our dugout first, and we went with the third base side.
Noah, Sean, and I would be the first three up to start the inning and game. Garret got prepared as well, tugging on his batting gloves while standing with me beside the dugout entrance.
"Hey, Coach, know anything about this pitcher?" Garret greeted Coach as he took his usual spot near the front.
Coach gave a short nod. "Pitched on Friday. Complete game shutout."
Garret let out a low whistle. "This team has as many good pitchers as us?"
"They would have to, in order to get this far." Coach gestured to the game that was starting. "Pay attention. Take notes. Don't be a sitting duck in the batter's box."
Knowing that Stuart Hall had another good pitcher on the mound, I was convinced. Convinced that this game wouldn't be as easy as Dave had anticipated yesterday. He thought they were using good pitchers yesterday, but I guess we're in a similar position today.
The pitcher on the mound was a righty. Tall. Muscular. And had a bit of facial hair growing. Definitely a senior.
He cornered Noah to an 0-2 count before getting him to swing and miss a curveball in the dirt.
Sean went up next, while I moved to the on deck circle.
"Nasty stuff." Noah muttered to me on his way back to the dugout. "I think it's something you can handle though, Jake."
"What about me?" I heard Garret ask.
Noah went inside the dugout and I could no longer hear how he answered Garret.
Sean wasn't much better than Noah, getting to a 1-2 count before striking out on the curve. That seems to be his go-to pitch when he has the batter cornered. Useful info.
I slowly moved to the batter's box as my name was announced. Cheers and claps and chants of my name were heard from the stands. Since the righty has a curve that the other two were caught chasing, I decided to get in the left-hander's box.
I was feeling a little nervous, but not because the pitcher was good or because I was worried about my performance at the plate. I was nervous that this team was going to intentionally walk me like my last game. I want a chance to swing the bat.
It was only after the first pitch was thrown inside for ball one did I believe that this game would be different. It made sense. Not every team would avoid me. That would be insane.
After going a whole day of not hitting, I took my time with this at-bat. I worked the count, fouling off a couple of pitches while letting some pass for 'ball'. Feeling satisfied after hitting double digits, I attacked the outside fastball, hitting it to left field. I dropped my bat and took off. I knew I didn't get under it enough to hit it out of the park.
I rounded first just as the left fielder caught my fly ball near the foul line. His momentum carried him into the side fencing, but he seemed to be okay.
Their spectators went crazy, cheering and clapping even louder than ours had when I had come up to bat. I felt slightly embarrassed as I jogged back to my dugout.
"Good work." Coach clapped his hands twice when I got back. "You made the pitcher work and got a good hit to the outfield. That great play made by the left fielder is out of your control."
I nodded and went to my bag. I couldn't control the outfielders, but I can do better on trying to place my hits. I put my helmet and bat away, grabbed my glove, put on my hat, and jogged out to my position at second base.
Dave took a few practice pitches on the mound, then the first batter for Stuart Hall was announced. The leadoff batter attacked the first pitch, sending it right back to Dave. Dave reflexively reached out to grab the ball with his barehand. He was unsuccessful. The ball smacked his hand and rolled off towards Jason near third base. Jason picked the ball up from the grass and threw it to Sean at first, but the runner beat the throw. Safe at first.
Out of habit, I started to move back to my position, but then I heard Coach call for time. I turned back to see him already out of the dugout, jogging to Dave on the mound. Jason and Noah were already on either side of him, huddled together. Sean and I hurried to join everyone else.
"How bad is it?" Coach asked Dave.
Dave showed us his right hand: a crooked pinky sticking out grabbing all the attention. "I'm not a doctor, but definitely not good."
I made a face of disgust. The other infielders were the same.
Coach sighed, turned back to the dugout and waved for someone to come out. The tournament trainer.
He took one look at Dave's hand. "Dislocation. You'll need to go to the hospital and get x-rays and let them reset it for you."
"Can't you do it?" Dave asked. "It doesn't hurt that much. I can still keep going."
The trainer shook his head. "It's better to get x-rays before resetting. Just to make sure there's no fracture or other complication. Are your parents here?"
Dave nodded. "Yea..." He looked to Coach for the final verdict.
"Go." Coach said. "Get your finger taken care of immediately. Don't risk your senior season." He stepped off the mound towards left field and started to wave, gesturing for Bryce to come in. Then he looked to Mitchell. "Bryce is probably the most prepared to take the mound, but don't cut corners. Warm him up properly." He looked around at us infielders. "I shouldn't have to tell you guys this, but keep your head in the game."
The trainer, Dave, and Coach all went back to the dugout together. Jesse came jogging out, heading for the outfield, to take the spot that Bryce just vacated.
"Rough way to start the game." Jason muttered under his breath. The four of us were standing together, close to second base, watching as Bryce played catch with Mitchell. "I'm starting to think you guys are the most injury-prone family I know."
"Hey, that's not fair." Noah shrugged. "We have a big family. So something is bound to happen. And we all play positions that have the most contact with the ball. And," he added, "I'm not injured. Just bruised. Jake also isn't 'injured', just a little banged up."
"If you have to defend yourself that much, then it can only be true." Sean laughed. "But also, that's just the life of any athlete." He sighed. "Sucks about Dave. And Tanner. At least they'll have time to heal up and be ready for the season when February rolls around."
"Dislocated pinky is practically nothing." Jason said. "I've done that a time or two. They just set it back and tape it to your other finger for a couple of weeks."
"Yea, but you're not a pitcher like Dave." Sean pointed out. "He's going to go out of his mind not being able to throw a ball for the next couple of weeks."
"Good." Noah nodded. "Serves him right. Maybe that'll teach him to stop trying to steal my spotlight. If he hadn't deflected that hit, I could have gotten to it and made a great play. Top ten on sportscenter for sure."
The two laughed and I cracked a smile.
