426 Game VS Quincy HS (6) (1/2)

"Good work out there, James." Coach told him. "Take a seat. Kyle will close it out."

"Thanks, Coach." James sat down and grabbed a water bottle and downed it. He took off his hat and revealed a forehead drenched in sweat. I guess pitching for even part of an inning can be tough.

The bottom of the fifth started with Zeke, Julian, and Noah. Since Noah was tugging on his batting gloves and busy getting ready for his at-bat, I decided to follow Garret and some of the guys that were checking on Dave.

Dave was at the far end of the dugout, seemingly trying to stay out of the way. He forced a grin when he saw us coming. "I'm not dying so don't look at me with so much pity, okay?"

Garret laughed, sliding on the bench to sit next to him. "We're just making sure that you're alright. Your season isn't dying, is it?"

Dave shook his head. He held out his right hand, palm up. On his middle finger, a blister was taking over. "The friction caused a blister."

I blinked. Friction?

Garret shook his head, looking sympathetically. "You were going hard out there. Those strikeouts came with a price, huh?"

Dave looked a little sheepish as he shrugged. "Drew said the moisture from my sweat, plus me throwing harder than normal, caused the friction. He said he'll give me ways to prevent it in the future, but now I have to wait for it to heal." He slumped a little in his seat. "Another week on the bench for me."

Silence fell upon us. No one spoke. I tried doing the math in my head. We had three games left. Tomorrow was against a non-conference opponent. Thursday was at Golden West. Then next Monday was at Servite. That's all we have left. If Dave has to sit for a week....he won't be able to play for the rest of the season.

A 'ding' sound came from the field, making us all turn to look. Zeke had hit a nice line drive to center field. The center fielder sprinted forward and snatched it before it hit the ground. It felt like everyone sighed in the dugout.

"Why are you all so depressed??" Dave spoke up. "We're still winning." He caught me looking at his finger. "C'mon Jake, it's just a blister. In the grand scheme of things, do you really think it's that bad?"

I shifted. "But...you might not be able to play anymore this season."

Dave laughed. "You dork. If we win the remaining games and win our conference, we'll go to the CIF tournament. That means, there'll be more games to play."

I perked up. That'll be good!

"Yea, but Golden West hasn't suffered a loss yet." Mahki spoke up. "So even if we beat them, we have to make sure we beat them in run differential." He looked at me. "That means we have to beat them by two because they had beaten us by one." He put his hands behind his head. "We also have to beat Servite. Another tough game." He smacked Dave's knee. "Heal up quick."

Mahki and the others walked away, Garret included. Just leaving me and Dave by ourselves.

"Are you still worried?" Dave asked, watching me closely.

I stood tall. "No." Yes. "We'll go to CIF." Hopefully.

A heavy hand fell on my shoulder. I jumped, but the hand held me in place. I looked to see that it belonged to Zeke. He was back.

"Don't feel so stressed." Zeke said. "Golden West and Servite also have to play a second time. And we'll have you back for the second Golden West game. Do you think I won't be able to drive you home a few times?"

That's right. As long as I get on base, I'll be able to score a few times with someone like Zeke hitting behind me. And Garret. Mahki. Julian. The upperclassmen won't just roll over and take a second loss. They're good.

"What a show off." Dave snorted at Zeke. "I could have cheered up Jake on my own."