“YES!”
“ORYAHHHHH!”
The bar erupted into cheers as the TV showed Brad stepping onto home plate, securing the run for Detroit after a whole 8 innings. Surprisingly it wasn’t just the Yokohama crew who cheered, but nearly everyone in the whole establishment.
Even the bartender was getting into it.
“Next round is on the house!” He shouted, resulting in another cheer from the patrons.
“FREE BEER!” Makoto shouted, sounding even happier than he was when Detroit scored.
“I can’t believe it… If it wasn’t for Detroit’s coach challenging the bunt earlier, none of this would have happened.” Shiro said.
“That’s Ken’s grandfather, even I’ve heard of his accolades.” Seiji replied, his eyes locked onto the TV.
“Eh!? But they don’t even have the same last name. Is it his maternal grandfather?”
“I’m not sure, but I don’t think so.” Seiji responded.
“I met him when we went to America for the U18 World Cup, he’s definitely Coach Takagi’s father.” Hiroki replied.
“Coach Takagi?” Makoto came back with a round of beers, his eyebrow raised.
“He was our assistant coach in the Junior National Team. Once a coach, always a coach. Just because he’s not my current coach doesn’t mean I shouldn’t show him respect.” Hiroki stated matter-of-factly.
“He’s right Makoto, you must respect all of your previous coach’s.” Seiji added, giving the guy a stern look.
“O—Of course coach…” Makoto replied, sliding one of the beers over to Seiji, as if making a peace offering.
Seiji graciously accepted the beer, raising it towards Makoto before taking a deep drink.
Makoto returned the gesture and downed half of his beer in one go before slamming it on the table and exhaling exaggeratedly. “Ah, that’s the stuff.” He said with a grin.
“Err, are one of those beers for us?” Shiro asked, pointing to the remaining 3 full beers in front of him.
“Huh? Go get your own drink if you want one.” Makoto replied, his cheeks red.
“You…” Shiro clenched his fist, “I bet you told the bartender these drinks were for us because he was paying for the next round you shameless bastard.”
“Eh? I can hear a high pitched whine, is there a mosquito in here?” Makoto replied, cleaning out his ear with his pinky.
“Be quiet, Ken’s coming up to the mound.” Hiroki shushed the two fighting kids and stared at the screen.
Indeed Ken had arrived at the mound and was getting ready for the next batter to appear. The bar quickly quietened down as the potential final innings was about to get underway.
Back on the field, the announcer introduced the next batter in his bored tone.
“Batting 8th for Miami, Paul Burdick.”
Paul stepped into the batters box a few moments later and begun his ritual. Behind him, Jason Rogers the mustachioed catcher was adjusting his chest protector, getting ready to face Ken’s pitches.
“Damn it, has it shrunk?” He muttered with annoyance.
In truth, Jason had put on a little weight since being injured which was perfectly normal. Yet since it had been a while since he put on his game equipment, things weren’t exactly fitting like it used to.
Thankfully, he managed to buckle it properly and turned to Ken who was waiting patiently on the mound. While he had caught some of Ken’s pitches in training, it was nowhere near enough to make him feel confident.
As he squatted down, Jason called for the first pitch, a slider.
‘I should be able to catch his breaking pitches in the beginning. Once I get used to his speed we can start attacking with fastballs.’ Jason mused inwardly.
However, Ken shook his head, wanting to change the lead.
‘Huh? Well what about a curveball?’
Ken shook his head once more, causing Jason to blink in disbelief a few times.
‘What the hell man!?’
Jason was getting frustrated, but then he finally remembered what Ken had said in the dugout. The youngster had told him just to keep his glove still and he would do all the rest.
The claim sounded arrogant, but the kid could afford to be. With the amount of records he’d broken in his debut season, no one would be able to fault Ken if he said such a thing.
Jason was no different.
‘Well… I guess I’ll trust you then kiddo.’
He called for a fastball in the next moment, only to see a wide grin appear on Ken’s face as he nodded.
In the next moment, Ken performed his wind up and the ball was soon on its way towards him.
‘So fast!’
Jason felt like he would miss the ball if he blinked, so he did his best to follow its trajectory. He resisted the impulse to move his glove, banking on the control of Ken’s pitching.
WHOOOOOSH
PAH
“Strike.”
A shock traveled up Jason’s arm from the impact, almost causing him to let out a cry of surprise. His eyes instinctively moved to the jumbo screen at the back of the arena and saw 3 digits that made him feel faint.
‘105mph!? How can this kid still throw at this speed after over 90 pitches?’
Despite being only 6 years older than Ken, Jason suddenly felt old. It was clear that the new wave of talent was taking the league by storm.
First it was Ryan Smith, then Leo Cameron and now the two Takagi brothers. Even Jason who had been a starting catcher for quite a few years now could feel his inferiority creeping up.
While his mind was preoccupied, Jason almost forgot to throw the ball back until being prompted by the umpire. He quickly apologized and threw it back to Ken, getting back into position.
He let out a sigh, throwing his thoughts into the back of his mind. Now was not the time to think about such things. They were in the first game of the World Series after all.
Jason squatted down once more and called for a fastball.
‘Finish the game strong kiddo, let’s put an end to this.”
