The Hitting Zone

Chapter 276 Game: @ Lassen Union HS 2

Chapter 276 Game: @ Lassen Union HS 2

As a unified team we walked together to our visiting club room to change. I already had my jersey on under my sweatshirt so I didn’t bother taking it off just yet. Mid-March is still cold, especially in Northern California. I focused on getting my cleats on as everyone else did their own thing to get pumped.

Coach gave another speech about taking this seriously even with missing pieces like Zeke and Julian. He told the pitchers to all report to the bullpen after warmups so they can discuss a more detailed plan with the pitching coach.

Mahki then led us out, taking over captain duties that belonged to Zeke. We warmed up like any time before, moving with all seriousness that coach expected us to have.

After running, stretching, tossing the ball around, and getting warm, the pitchers and our two catchers headed to the bullpen. Noah explained that the first two up would probably get to start practicing their pitches with Kelvin and Jordan, the rest would have to wait until the game started.

I followed the normal pregame routine and made sure to pay extra attention to my fielding. I wanted to set a personal goal for the game: no fumbling with the baseball. Clean fielding. I’m not just talking about errors either. I wanted to look as good as Noah when he fields. Even though he said we could do extra training during midterms week, I wanted to get a head start now. I’m already behind in terms of fielding.

After the umpires showed up and asked for the lineups, everyone started to move to their respective dugouts. As our team arrived back in ours, Mr. Miller instructed the first few of us to get our bats and put on our helmets.

The top of the order started with Noah, me, and Mahki. Garret and Brian also got ready with the belief that we wouldn’t get out.

Coach came back to the dugout and clipped the lineup to the fence. "Okay, boys, listen up. They’ll be coming out with Ricky Cee." The dugout listened to Coach in silence, not showing one emotion more than the other. Leaving me guessing if they knew who that was or not. "Come out swinging and don’t get caught watching." He reached out and patted Noah on the helmet. "Lead us off kid."

Noah left and I followed. We both stood by the on deck circle, with me watching him take practice swings. Noah glanced up, then used his eyes to direct my attention to the field.

I looked up and saw the home team taking the field, throwing the ball around. I didn’t see anything worth watching of the field players, so I focused on the pitcher. Ricky Cee. He’s significant enough for Coach to give his name so he must be well known. On some level. Maybe Noah wanted me to watch his warmup?

Ricky looked tall up on the mound, almost like a kid on stilts. He had a thin frame, with arms as thick as a noodle. He went into a windup, stretched out his left leg, planted, then his whole right side came following through. I blinked and his pitch had already made it to the catcher. Ahh. So he’s fast. That’s why Coach said to come out swinging. It’d be a waste if the guys just watched it go on by.

The home plate umpire gave him a couple of minutes to throw off the mound before signaling the practice balls be tossed back, and for Noah to step up. Noah gave me a smile and walked off, leaving me on my own within the on deck circle.

Ricky didn’t waste any time or pitch, and went straight down the middle against Noah. Noah held true to Coach’s instructions, and swung. Foul. Foul. He left one pass for a ball. On the 1-2 count, he swung at another fastball, sending it to the outfield. The center fielder sprinted in and easily caught it for the first out.

"Nice contact!"

"Good swing!"

"Your turn, Jake!"

The guys chatter from the dugout could easily be heard. The crowd here was very minimal. Besides a few parents of the home team, and Mr. Atkins for our team, there wasn’t a student in sight. Not many kids would wake up early on the weekend to watch their school’s baseball team after all.

Noah gave me a high five as he walked back to the dugout, for encouragement. I walked up to the lefty’s box with my wood bat and got set, already anticipating Ricky’s pitch. I let the first one go high for a ball. I wanted to swing, but I preferred something within the zone.

The second pitch came, drifting to the strike zone from the outside. With a swing, I connected, but just barely, sending the ball down the third baseline. I took off for first, but when I got close, I saw the first baseman extend his gloved hand and catch an incoming throw. The third baseman must have been abled to field my grounder. I sighed and slowed up to a jog. Crap.