I hadn’t really uncorked one yet, either. Several things had combined to improve my arm strength and flexibility: the weight program, my daily runs with the Bo staff, and throwing a baseball or football several thousand times. It caused my fastball to creep up into the low 90s. It also sounded different when it was thrown. You could hear it displace the air, and then when it hit the catcher’s glove, there was a satisfying smack.
I guessed correctly, and the young man swung too late. The only other pitch I had confidence in was my split-finger fastball. For all intents and purposes, it looked like a fastball but would drop at the last moment.
Their batter wasn’t about to let another fastball get by him. I had an inner smile when he zeroed in on the pitch and took a massive cut, only to top the ball as it dropped. It rolled right to Joe at second, and he made an easy play to get us out of the inning.
We picked up three runs the next inning. Daz came in and pitched until the last inning when Kale took over to close it out. We won 3–0, the same as our record after three games. We also beat the rain, so it was a good afternoon.
I could only shake my head when they awarded me the win. They have some funny rules when it came to awarding a win to a pitcher. If you start, you have to go so many innings, which can vary by your level of play or league. They were using a five-inning rule. In my case, I was the reliever who came in and got us out of the inning. Our next at-bat put us up by enough to win the game. At that point, the scorer has the option of awarding that reliever the win or not. It depends on whether they judge the pitcher was effective. Don’t ask me what that means. I guess my one out was enough. I personally would’ve given the win to Daz because he faced the most batters, but what do I know?
◊◊◊
Swimming was out, so I invited my family to my host family’s house so I could spend time with the boys. The only family member missing was Duke. He’d gotten to go to the farm with my grandma. She said he was a little confused about where he was supposed to sleep at night but was good company. I could imagine that horse crawling onto her lap for some loving.
Bob wasn’t interested in babies, so he went to a friend’s house.
Then other people started to show up. It was a group of host parents and representatives of USA Baseball, there to discuss the lunch situation. They talked for a while, and then Melissa came and got me. I smiled as I stepped into the living room where they were all meeting.
“I take it you’re all talking about Team Pride and our lunch request,” I said to try to take the focus away from me.
“We have the lunches catered and have never seemed to have a problem before. What was wrong with today’s lunch?” one of the host moms asked.
“I admit that if you asked a typical group of teens, they would tell you that pizza and chips sounds like a great lunch. I personally could eat pizza three times a day, if I weren’t an athlete. Part of playing any sport at a high level is good nutrition. I’m not sure where pizza and chips fall on the food chart,” I said.
“And here I was always told that pizza hit all the food groups,” one of the host dads said with a smile.
“I’m not trying to make this hard. If they just added some fresh food, it would be a big help. It’s not that hard to make a salad and put out fruit. The salad yesterday looked like it was left over from the weekend,” I explained.
“What would you say to something like a deli tray and let them make their own sandwiches?”
“That would work,” I said.
“Melissa said she helped make your lunch today. What did you have?”
“Poached chicken breast, steamed broccoli, a faux potato salad made with cauliflower, and an apple.”
“No dairy?”
“I’m sure I’ll get some later,” I said to Miss Picky. “I don’t imagine the rest of the team is as stringent about what they eat as I am, but they’re aware of the importance of good nutrition.”
They let me go so they could talk.
◊◊◊
When I got back to the park, I heard, ‘You can’t say that!’ Coach Kingwood frowned, and I decided that even though Dave irritated me, he was still a teammate. I’d made a pledge to try to get all thirteen of us on the final forty list. If I didn’t do something, Dave wouldn’t be one of them.
“Hey, Dave, got a minute?” I asked.
“What do you want?” he asked, a hint of belligerence in his tone.
If I’d been smart, I would’ve said ‘everyone but Dave’ the first day, and I wouldn’t have to deal with this. He may have gotten the looks and athletic ability in his family, but M.E. was a much nicer person once you got to know her.
“I need to talk to you,” I said and led him to the dugout so we could sit down.
I noticed that Bob suddenly needed to rearrange the bats. The little stinker wanted to hear this. I should either kick him out or expect him to tell everyone what was said. For once, I thought it would be best for everyone to know, so I didn’t run Bob off.
“You’re about to mess up your chance to make the final forty.”
