Chapter 125 Game Four: Paradise Preparatory 8
Chapter 125 Game Four: Paradise Preparatory 8
Bottom of the fifth, still 7-2. Garret stepped up and we got in position. He let off another single almost immediately, making the team feel down. At least, I was. I was nervous that it would get worse and Jordan's worst case scenario will happen. Garret's supposedly the best on our team when it comes to pitching, but if even he is getting rocked like this, then I can't imagine what would happen to the other pitchers.
"No worries!" Noah shouted. "Next batter! Make him hit it to me!"
Garret shook his head with dismay. Then got back on the rubber to face the next batter. He started off with his cutter and got the guy to swing and miss. Then again. And again. His first strikeout since the first inning.
He continued with the cutter with the next batter, yet this one was able to tap it my way. I quickly ran to it and tossed it to Noah at second, who then threw to Julian to make the double play and quickly end the inning.
Noah jumped around me. "Wow! That was quick thinking Jake! You're really getting the hang of it now!"
I rubbed my nose, too embarrassed to say that I thought we wouldn't have been able to turn the double play. I was still absorbed in the possibility that we could still lose with two innings to go.
I put my helmet on, grabbed my bat, and headed back out of the dugout. Mahki was taking practice swings trying to match the timing of the pitchers warmup pitches. Which I found useless since that probably wouldn't be the speed in real time.
The umpire signaled for the batter to step up to the plate so we could start the sixth inning. Mahki only last three pitches before grounding out to third like Garret did.
After studying the guy on the mound, and considering his pitches, I decided to step in the lefty's box. With my short arms, it wouldn't be wise trying to chase after his pitches the run to the outside. If I bat left-handed then these pitches will come at me and will be easier to hit.
The pitcher nodded at the sign the catcher gave and started his motion. I watched closely and judged the first pitch to be his curve. I let it pass for a ball. The next pitch was another curve but looked to end in the strike zone. I let it. 1-1. The pitcher on the mound smirked and got set once more. I don't know what he's so happy about. It's only one strike. His next pitch came a bit high, but still in the zone. He was a straight fastball almost reaching 90, I bet. I took a short step, moved my wrists and swatted the ball down the third baseline, squeaking by the third baseman.
"Keep going!" Coach Luis waved me on to second base. I rounded first and was able to see that the left fielder had just barely gotten to the ball so I didn't even have to slide. I proudly stood on second.
I looked back at my dugout where shouts of Bambi were the loudest. Noah was shaking the gate wildly and cheering. As they calmed down, Noah hollered out to Zeke at the plate. "Jake is showing you up again! You need a single for the cycle!"
Zeke shook his head. I don't know if that was to say that he wouldn't get a hit or if he wouldn't stop at first. He stared down the pitcher. The pitcher arrogantly pitched a fastball in the same spot as before.
Zeke didn't hesitate and swung. Except he hit it to the right fielder. It bounced once before being quickly thrown back in. I made it to third and Zeke stood on first. He got his cycle just like that. Almost no effort. No wonder he belongs in first.
The crowd gave him a standing ovation. I could hear Mrs. Atkins yelling happily 'that's my son!' It made my chest felt tight. No one would claim me as their son with such joy. My dad was m.i.a. (AN: missing in action) And my mom was on trial for trying to kill me. I felt like crumbling all of a sudden. Life's problems were weighing me down. I stood frozen on third.
Sean came up to bat and hit a high fly to left field. Zeke tagged up and made it to second as I remained on third. Mr. Miller was saying words, but I couldn't hear them. I was too caught up in my thoughts. I don't think my mom ever claimed me with pride. She would say 'my son' like I was a sin and just straight filth. Julian struck out and it was time to switch sides.
I mechanically walked back to the dugout with Mr. Miller beside me, still talking but I was still not listening. I took my helmet off and really felt tired. It was just so much of an effort.
"Jake? Jake?! Jake!" Noah's yell in my ear made me turn to him. He looked at me with wide eyes. "Are you okay?? What's going on? Zeke and Mr. Miller couldn't get through to you."
I saw the two behind Noah, talking to coach. Most of the team already ran out into the field. Zeke brought coach over to me.
Coach looked at me, pushing his hat up. "Jake, do you need a rest? It's okay if you do. Roberts can go in and you can take a seat."
A rest? Yes. I need to rest. I plopped down on the bench and held my head in my hands. This weight felt too heavy. I was too tired. Something is wrong with me.
"Roberts! Get on that field! Noah, Zeke, you both get out there too. I'll keep an eye on Jake." Coach's voice sounded distant even though I could see his feet by mine.