83 Game One: Villa Park 3 (2/2)

”Well. Yea. It probably hurt.” Noah turned me, forcing me to look at our dugout. ”Don't look at them. Look at your teammates. They aren't mad at you and that's what matters.”

The team was leaning on the fence, looking cheerful and not like the opposing team. I relaxed a little, seeing that Zeke wasn't angry at all. He gave me a nod, signaling that I was doing okay.

”Zeke asked me to come out here, since he knew you would probably panic. Just stay loose. Get on first. Zeke said to aim for a walk. And foul it down first base side if you're scared that you might hurt the catcher again.”

I nodded. That sounded safe.

”Batter!” The umpire called for me. I started to shake and slowly turned around. The other team had all returned to their respective spots, just waiting on me.

I glanced at Noah. He sighed and guided me back to the box. He looked up at the catcher, who had yet to put on his mask. ”On behalf of my teammate, I would like to apologize for the bump.”

The catcher sneered, ”What. The little guy too scared to say it himself?”

Noah blinked. I started to shake. ”Yes. Actually. Jake is a mute. If that's a problem, I can report you for prejudice against those with speaking disabilities, to the tournament advisor.”

The catchers jaw dropped. I started to shift back and forth, worried that Noah will get us in trouble like always.

”It's fine.” The ump intervened. ”Watsonville apologized. Foul tips are apart of the game. Number one, return to the dugout. Number zero get in the box. Catcher, if you don't want to get in trouble for unsportsmanlike conduct, then get in place.”

Noah gave me a pat and left me to fend for myself. Luckily, the catcher listened to the ump and squatted. I took a breath and let it out slowly, then got into place as well.

The pitcher looked annoyed with the pause in the game. He got set, did his windup, and the pitch came in high. 3-2, full count. The catcher threw the ball back and they got set once more. I kept my normal stance and the infielders held normal position. The next pitch came, low. Too low. It bounced on the plate, into the catchers glove.

”Ball four, walk.” The umpire called out.

My team cheered like crazy like I had hit a homerun. How embarrassing. I carefully set my bat on the ground and jogged to first.

”Not bad.” Coach Luis said, without any expression. ”You don't need to be so careful with the bat. Just toss it closer to the dugout for the guys to put back.”

I frowned. Does he know how much that bat cost? Luckily I saw Noah come out and got my bat, someone who really understood. Mahki got ready to step in the box. He looked at Mr. Miller, who did some random hand signals, then stepped in the batters box.