We had an early start, 10 a.m. Most of our fans had decided to sleep in on a Saturday morning, so it was mostly scouts and recruiters who were here now. There were professional scouts from the LA Dodgers, Tampa, Atlanta, and the Chicago White Sox. College scouts were there representing almost every Big Ten team, along with Kentucky, Alabama, Clemson, and Florida State. Word of Ohio State’s in-home visit must have encouraged some football coaches to get their baseball guys to see if they would want me to play both sports.
Brock must have been nervous because he walked the first two batters. That was never good, especially in the first inning. Moose got two freshmen up to start throwing in the bullpen. Jim and Johan walked to the mound to reassure their teammate.
The next batter stepped up and hit a towering shot to right-center field.
“Mine!” I called.
I drifted back so that as the ball came down, I could run forward and catch it. That would give me momentum as I threw towards third base to either gun down the runner, or better yet, hold him at second.
I caught the ball and was already coming up throwing, with a plan to showcase my arm, when I saw the Lakeview runners both standing at second. The man on first must not have tagged up and the one on second knew what kind of arm I had. I held up and tossed the ball to Bryan, who then yelled at them to “Run!”
The lead runner made a step toward third, and Bryan tagged him. He then spun and threw the ball to Jim, who tagged the runner headed back to first. He was out anyway because he forgot to tag up when I caught the ball. Brock was excited that we’d gotten him out of the jam.
By now, the stands were filling up, and everyone came to their feet. I glanced over at the scouts and recruiters to see their reaction to what was about to happen. When the first notes of
As the song’s intro wrapped up, I hopped into the batter’s box and smiled at the umpire. He just ignored me.
“Play ball!”
Their pitcher uncorked a changeup that hit me in the middle of my back. At least it hadn’t been his fastball, or at least for his sake, I hoped it wasn’t. I smiled as I trotted down to first base. I knew the kid had too much control to let one get away from him. That had been a message pitch.
Ray Quinn was up since he’d taken Yuri’s old spot at third base. Ray was a sophomore and hadn’t gotten a hit yet. It surprised me that Moose wanted me to hold at first and let Ray bat. He must have decided that Ray needed to focus and not worry about me trying to steal second.
Ray worked the count to full. The Lakeview pitcher was upset because the umpire wasn’t giving him close calls. That meant that he had to hit more of the plate to get a strike. With his slower stuff, that gave us an advantage. Ray fouled off the next six pitches.
“That’s the way to hang in there, Ray!” I called from first.
On the next pitch, Ray hit a weak grounder to short. It was a perfect double-play ball until the shortstop let it roll between his legs. I didn’t hesitate as I rounded second at full speed and saw Coach Haskins signaling to slide. I just beat the throw and was safe.
Ray had been listening to his coaching and had run out the play to first. When it was evident that I was heading to third, he took second.
Next up was Bryan. He, too, worked the count full. I had to agree with the Lakeview pitcher; the last two pitches looked like strikes to me. The key was the umpire was being consistent. So long as that was the case, the Lakeview pitcher needed to adjust to what he was calling. Unfortunately, Bryan struck out.
Jim stepped into the batter’s box and, on the first pitch, hit a golf shot down the first base line that rolled to the fence. Both Ray and I scored, and Jim had a stand-up double. That was where the inning ended.
In the third, they finally got to Brock as he gave up three runs. One of the freshmen came in and promptly gave up a home run. By the time we got out of the top of the third, we were down 7–2.
When I came up in the third, Brock had managed to get a hit. He’d gone back to playing second base when he was pulled from the mound because we needed his bat.
I settled into the batter’s box and ran through my checklist. The first pitch was inside, and I gave the kid a dirty look. If he hit me again, I would kick his ass, and I told the catcher that. Their catcher called time and trotted out to the mound. The umpire acted like he was cleaning home plate.
“I would advise you not to act rashly,” he said under his breath.
Following his example, I acted like I was checking my bat.
“I won’t. I just wanted to let him know that I won’t tolerate him hitting me for sport. If it happens, I’ll let the catcher grab me.”
“Fair enough,” he said and then turned to the mound. “Play ball!”
