436 Golden West Postgame (1/2)

My body was hurting. My foot. My ankle. My knees. My hip. My hands. My elbows. The only body part that was really safe was my head and face. Which wasn't too bad.

"Hey!" Noah was next to me in a blink of an eye. He took a knee to look at me. "Are you okay, Jake? Are you hurt anywhere?"

"Amateur." I heard a scoff from an unfamiliar voice.

"Go away, you loser." Noah brush away the runner. "Hope you guys choke against Servite."

The guy glared before walking away.

Noah was trying to pull me to my feet, but a hand stretched out to stop him.

Garret arrived. "Wait. If anything hurts, Drew might want him to stay on the ground."

I waved them both away. "I'm okay. Nothing but a few bumps or bruises." I stood up on my own and picked up my hat that had fallen off my head in the collision.

"Wait! How can you be so sure?" Noah asked, frantically moving about, drawing more attention to us.

I stared at him. He was really worried. Panicking about something so small. Thinking back, Noah has been like this all the time. Treating me like a glass figurine. I'll be the first to admit that my emotions can get the best of me and my inner demons are still present, but-

I laid my hand on Noah's shoulder. "Noah. I'm good. I know when I'm hurt and when I'm injured. This is nothing."

Noah's eyes widened, then he settled down.

"Look at Bambi! Flipping the script!" Garret laughed as the team started to join us by second base. The outfielders came in, the bullpen and dugout came out to celebrate, and yet...Noah was worried about me.

I tried giving him a reassuring smile. "Noah, even professionals have the occasional collision. You told me that. Now...don't be jinxing me!"

Noah finally cracked a smile, looking relieved.

"Hey, hey, what's going on here?" Dave hollered, with some of the coaches right behind him.

Garret turned around, smirking. "What's going on?" He repeated. "I'll tell ya. You're not the only one with ten strikeouts in one game anymore!!"

Dave pushes him away. "You had to use all seven innings. It doesn't count!"

"Want to compare season strikeouts then??" Garret kept grinning.

"No way! I was injured for two weeks! You had like two more starts than me." Dave refused, folding his arms across his chest.

"Okay, okay, settle down boys." Coach raised his voice over them two and the rest of the team, who were celebrating a little quieter. "We still have to pack up and take the bus back. A quick word first." He looked around. "I'm proud of you. It may look like Garret did all the work on the mound and at the plate, but it's still a team effort. None of you gave up on a play, nor made any mistakes. This, this is what I want to see on Monday."

Zeke went over to stand next to Coach. "Can I also have a word, Coach?"

"Of course." Coach took a step back.

Zeke was holding his glove as he started to speak up. "I hope I didn't let you all down too much today." He started off with an apology. A surprise apology.

"No way!"

"You can't be perfect all the time!"