It was finally game time, and I stepped out to take some practice swings. The crowd suddenly got eerily quiet. I looked around to see what the problem was and found our fans all sitting down. That was something I’d never seen at the start of a game. Then someone stood up: Alan. He had an old-style boom box that he lifted over his head. I closed my eyes as the first notes of AC/DC’s
When the music started, our fans jumped up and began ringing their damned cowbells, stomping their feet and singing along. I glanced over to the St. Joe side, and they’d joined in.
I looked out at the pitcher, and he was pissed. Instead of going to the batter’s box, I headed to the mound. Well, shit … That got a reaction.
“It’s all good,” I said, holding up my hands as the catcher, all the umpires, St. Joe’s coach, and Moose all ran to the mound.
“What do you want?” their pitcher asked.
“I just wanted to tell you we didn’t play the music. Please don’t think we are trying to disrespect you or your team. We know you’ve got a great team, and no insult is intended,” I explained.
He refused to shake my hand and gave me a menacing look. I figured, what the hell, be an ass. I turned around and walked back to the batter’s box. Everyone else saw it was okay and started back to where they belonged. I stopped, turned, and looked the pitcher in the eyes.
“One more thing,” I said, which froze everyone. “You hit me with a pitch, and I’ll tear your arm off and beat you with it.”
Moose grabbed me, and their pitcher had to be restrained by their coach. Coach Haskins had the dugout blocked as all my guys jumped up. St. Joe’s side rushed the field, and the umpires all put a wall up to keep them off me.
Moose marched me to our dugout and had a boisterous discussion with me while the umpires cleared the field. I caught him half-smiling at my attempt to rile up their pitcher. My guys had seen me play alpha dog before, so they took it in stride.
The umpires finally got St. Joe back on their benches and pulled the two coaches behind the plate. The St. Joe coach about lost his mind when the umpire told him that if his pitcher threw at anyone, he’d be gone, as would the coach. Moose got the same warning. Coach Herndon was talking to Brock, telling him not to retaliate. Our team knew if something went down, to let the coaches or me handle it.
They let St. Joe’s pitcher throw a few balls to try to settle down. I smiled to see he was raring back and throwing as hard as he could. His adrenaline had to be pumping through his veins.
I got into the batter’s box and dug in. I looked for his fastball on the first pitch. That was, of course, assuming he didn’t throw at my head. I guessed right, and it sounded good coming off the bat. The pitcher’s head snapped around, and he watched a towering shot as it drifted just foul.
I was pissed I’d been a little behind on that one. I could tell from the look on the pitcher’s face that he was going to throw at me.
“You better warn him,” I told the umpire.
He seemed to agree, and he motioned St. Joe’s coach out and met him at the mound. All three of them were red-faced when the umpire came back. Their coach said a few words, and a smirk came onto the pitcher’s face. Well, shit!
Sure enough, the next pitch was in the middle of my back. I would have to send Sandy Range flowers because her new protective gear did its job. The umpire behind the plate stepped in front of me, and I just grinned at him.
“You little shit. You wanted to get their pitcher out of the game,” he said so only I could hear him.
“I’d never admit to that,” I said, feigning shock.
“Take your base,” he ordered me.
St. Joe’s coach and pitcher hit the showers. As far as the St. Joe fans were concerned, I was now public enemy number one.
St. Joe was in a bind. They’d gone through their two best pitchers to get to this game, and their third-best one had just been tossed. Granted, they had depth because they played three teams, but in high school, you only had so many top-notch arms. They faced the choice of bringing out their best starter on short rest or a sophomore. I guess I wasn’t surprised when they brought out their best starter.
It wasn’t like he pitched yesterday, but what it did was mess them up for the Sectional games. He would have to slide back into the order, and they might never get to him for the next round of the playoffs. I could see their logic, though. If they didn’t win this one, they were done.
When he was warmed up, the umpire signaled it was time to play ball. No starting pitcher was used to beginning a game with a runner on. Their ace hadn’t really faced that many base runners because he tended to throw a lot of sinking stuff that got hit as ground balls. He counted on his defense to back him up. Having me on first caused him to have to begin by pitching out of the stretch.
