77 Friday (1/2)

The atmosphere at Friday's practice was filled with tension. Warmup was silent like always, but seemed to be at a faster pace. Everyone was kind of acting like Zeke: serious and bland. Even Noah. For the first time since knowing the trainer, I was happy to be with him instead of the team.

We worked out just as hard as any other day. I would definitely need an ice bath tonight if I wanted to be somewhat not sore for tomorrow. After training with him, I was sent back to the team, then we started to run plays. We worked on fielding, double plays, and getting the ball back to the pitcher as soon as possible.

At the end of practice, coach gathered all of us and had us stretch as he spoke. ”Tomorrow is the Tulare Invitational. You boys know it's a single game elimination format. You also know that we'll play game one against Villa Park. What you don't know, is my thoughts about this weekend. I believe this is the best team we've had in the history of Watsonville baseball, including last year. We're not just going to try and win this tournament, we WILL win.” The team cheered. ”Settle down. We still have to put in the work. Let's talk strategy.” He nodded at Zeke.

Zeke stood up and took a piece of paper out of his back pocket. ”This is the lineup Coach and I came up with. Save all objections until the end.” He stood in the center of our stretch circle. ”Lead off will be Noah Atkins, shortstop.”

Noah jumped up. ”Yes! Woo-hoo!”

Zeke glanced at him. ”Your job is to get to first. Your fast and able to steal bases but that only matters if you make it to first. Try for a walk or even get hit by a pitch.” My jaw dropped.

”Hey! I can hit!” Noah protested. ”I'm going to tell mom that you want me to get hit.”

Zeke's glance turned into a glare. Even I straightened up, though he was only looking at Noah. ”Sit down.”

Noah quickly sat back down and went back to stretching, avoiding his look.

Zeke was taking this very seriously. He cleared his throat and started to speak again. ”Number two spot will be Jake Hollander, second base.” He looked at me. I quickly nodded. He moved on. ”Third, in the hole, will be Mahki Holstrom, left field. Cleanup will be me at center field. Next, Julian Wilson at first base. Following will be Jason Morris at third base.” There were a few gasps and whispering, but Zeke just spoke louder. ”Seventh spot is Antonio Perkola, right field. Eight spot is Kelvin Bender, catcher.” The murmurs got louder. I even saw Noah making a face. ”Last will be the pitcher, Kyle Atkins.”

The team was no longer whispering, and were even outright protesting. I scooted closer to Noah and tugged his sleeve, not understanding the big deal.