The Hitting Zone

Chapter 106 Game Three: San Marino 1



Chapter 106 Game Three: San Marino 1

Chapter 106 Game Three: San Marino 1

The dugout was tense. Beyond tense. Everyone was stiff and didn’t seem relaxed at all. Even Zeke’s face was stiffer than normal, but not because he’s afraid of losing, but because he was wary of the aggression San Marino might show.

After he came to our room last night, he agreed with what the twins had said before: they play dirty. But in a near acceptable way, where it’s hard for an umpire to decide if they’re doing it on purpose. He spent most of the night instructing us on safety. "I rather lose a game, than lose you guys for the season." Zeke stated. That sentence had comforted me last night; knowing Zeke wouldn’t punish me with laps if I dodged an ugly slide.

"Listen up." Coach Wilcox called for our attention. "I’ve already shown the umpires and tournament advisers the scorecards. They said they’ll pay attention to the wild pitches so don’t me timid up there." His eyes fell on me.

"Don’t worry about Jake, Coach." Noah said for the team to hear. "He could easily dodge any wild pitches."

Coach lifted an eyebrow.

I nodded. I’m really good at predicting the pitches trajectory and taking note of the spin, to ensure that I could hit any pitch. It would be even easier to get out of the way.

Coach smiled. "If Bambi ain’t scared, then you older boys need to stop looking so afraid." The guys all laughed, but me. One, now even Coach is calling me Bambi. Two, I’m still scared. I was thoroughly worried after Zeke warned us last night that they like to slide with spikes up.

I usually don’t like the ball coming to me, but I rather have the ball come to me for every play, that way I don’t have to cover a base and risk somebody purposely running into me.

"Okay, now that your faces aren’t so paralyzed, here’s the starting lineup:

1 SS Noah Atkins

2 2B Jake Hollander

3 LF Mahki Holstrom

4 CF Zeke Atkins

5 1B Julian Wilson

6 RF Sean Isner

7 3B Jason Morris

8 C Kelvin Bender

9 P Dave Atkins

Look alive and be aware."

"It’s David, Coach." Dave just got back from warming up in the bullpen to hear the lineup. "You guys never listen to me. One of these days, I’m going to stop replying to Dave. My name is David."

A few guys laughed.

"We can always call you Davey like when we were little." Noah snickered.

"What’s that!" Dave tried getting to us. I stepped away from Noah, making room.

"Quit it." Zeke bopped Dave on the top of his head with his glove. "It’s almost time to go out and take the field."

Dave looked like he had been wronged by his brother. He pouted. "Is that anyway to treat your pitcher who’s about to perform?"

Zeke rolled his eyes at the act and walked out of the dugout. "Let’s go. Hands in." The team all got up and joined him. I hung on the outskirts. "Win on three. One, two-"

"WIN!" The team shouted in unison. The starters jogged to their positions and the bench players went back to the dugout. Others went to the bullpen.

I ran to my spot, trying not to flinch at the feel of the cold breeze. Mid-February in Northern California only had highs in the 50s. Game three starts at 9am, meaning the temperature was still only 46 degrees Fahrenheit. Mrs. Atkins was well prepared and had long sleeves ready to go in the morning with our freshly washed uniforms.

"Jake! Focus!" Julian rolled me a grounder.

I snapped back to reality and cleanly fielded the grounder. Julian then rolled one to Noah. And then Jason. Then back to me. While we practiced grounders and throwing to first base, Dave was on the mound taking his warmups very seriously, and the outfield were throwing long to one another.

Even though the team was in a happier mood when we left the dugout, it started to revert back.

The umpire called for the balls back. All extra baseballs were sent back to the dugout and we got ready for the batter to step in the box. As soon as the San Marino batter stepped up to the plate, cheers were being yelled out.

"Get him Joey!"

"Start off strong!"

"Get on base or lose your leadoff spot!"

The cheers weren’t even coming from their dugout, but from the stands. I looked past the fencing and saw what looked to be like San Marino players in the stand as well as in the dugout. Is their team really big? Why can’t all their players be in the dugout?

"Don’t get distracted, Bambi!" Noah clapped his glove, getting my attention. "Dave start with a strikeout like Kyle did!"

Dave looked back at him and tilted his head back, smiling like he already got the strikeout. I’m glad these two were still confident in our win. Add in Zeke and that’s three. That’s one-third of the starters on the field. Dave turned back to face the batter down.

I also put my focus on the batter and lowered my body to be ready for any grounders hit my way. Ideally Dave would strike every single one of them out and I wouldn’t have to worry about fielding errors or getting hurt from a collision. Not realistic at all, I know, but I could dream.


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