The Hitting Zone

I took a deep breath and got in the box. Noah took a lead off second, but stayed closer to the bag than the middle infielders.

The pitcher ignored him and focused on me. His first pitch to me was the same as the one that Noah hit. A good fastball in the strike zone. I really wanted to follow Noah and get a hit as well, but that wasn't what Zeke wanted. He wants a new pitcher so I fouled it. Then fouled another. Foul. Foul. Ball. Foul. Foul. Foul. Even pitches that could be considered balls, I made sure to tip them. I couldn't let this guy get off easy and walk me.

"Get him Bambi!"

"You've got this!"

"Work it! You're doing great kid!"

I heard the cheers come from all around as the catcher went up to the pitchers mound to have a mini meeting. I took a look around and everyone in the dugout and bullpen was up against the fences, yelling for me to get a hit. Embarrassed, I looked away. They didn't know that Zeke told me not to. They must think I'm struggling up here.

The catcher came back and got back into position. The pitcher got set once more. I stepped back up to the plate, trying to make it look like I was going for a hit. Foul. Foul. Foul. Foul. After four more straight fouls, the next pitch came inside. Way inside. I avoided it by stepping out of the box. Ball.

"What was that!"

"Ump! Did you see that?? He was aiming for our guy."

"Don't get scared Bambi!"

I wasn't scared of a brushback pitch. I could see the trajectory well and it's not like it was crazy fast. Just mid-70s.

"Sorry about that." The catcher apologized when he threw the ball back to the pitcher. "He must be getting tired from the consecutive fouls."

He didn't sound sincere at all. I wasn't scared of getting hit by a pitch, but the catcher definitely didn't seem friendly. I scooted towards the front of the box, just a little further away from him. Then put my focus back on the pitcher. He was sweating even in the cold morning, but could still throw strikes. I tightened the grip on my bat. Zeke wants him out, so I have to foul what I can.

The pitcher stepped on the rubber and went through his motion. This time he threw a curve at eye level that could drop in the dirt. I fouled it as it dipped. Fourteen pitches. My arms felt a little heavy from the bat, but I was starting to feel excited.

This was nothing like fouling pitches in a batting cage. In the cages, the pitches didn't change and there wasn't any variation pitch-by-pitch. Against a real pitcher, I had to put more effort in making sure I had the timing down and the location right. It wasn't as boring as I thought.

Foul. Foul. Foul. Ball. Foul. Foul. Foul. Ball.

"Ball four. Take your base." The umpire called out.

I carefully set my bat on the ground and jogged to first, while there was some clapping. They didn't sound as enthusiastic about my walk compared to Noah's hit, but that's okay. I understand.

As Mahki stepped out of the on deck circle, San Marino's coach came out of the dugout and called for a pitcher change. He went to the dugout and so did their infield.

"You can really use a bat." Coach Luis stated as we were alone.

I nodded.

"Keep it up." He encouraged..? Though it sounded more like a command...

It took awhile for everything to get back to normal for the game to resume; but when it did, the atmosphere seemed to change.

We still had a 2-0 lead. And there were no outs in the bottom on the third with two on base. But I had an uneasy feeling.

I studied the pitcher and didn't see anything special about him during his warmups. I looked around and noticed the infield was playing back...and they had such serious expressions. Like a team of Zeke's. I shivered. I didn't want to wander off first and have them try to make a play on me like they did to Jason.

Mahki's first at bat resulted in a fly out to center, so hopefully he'll have better luck against this new pitcher. He took the first pitch as a called strike. My hands twitched. That was a good pitch to hit! Then a ball, ball, foul. With a 2-2 count, he connected and sent the ball just over the center fielders shoulder.

I sprinted to second and slowed up, when I saw that the center fielder was able to get to the ball and send the ball in. I looked to third for Noah, but he wasn't there. He was on the way to home!

I didn't see the relay, but the throw came from the corner of my eye and was also heading to home. The catcher got in the base path and was ready to catch the ball. Noah ran with his head down, on focused on home plate. He pushed off and looked to dive between the catchers legs, but ended up colliding with him. They both laid in the dirt, in a tangle of limbs. What's the call?!

I looked at the home plate ump, who was looking down at them. Finally he extended his arms and declared, "Safe!"

Zeke came from the on deck circle and helped Noah up. Noah looked short and scrawny compared to his big brother. Noah said something to him, Zeke then leaned over and picked him up and carried him to the dugout.

My jaw dropped. Did Noah get hurt too?!

Just as that thought crossed my mind, I saw some San Marino coaches come out to the catcher, who was still lying on the ground, holding his knee. A collision that hurt both parties? How dangerous...

I nervously looked to the dugout, but couldn't see Noah. The team was crowded around him on the bench. My anxiety started to spike up.