***
A few hours later, the ballpark was starting to get rowdy as the ceremony was nearing. In the VIP area behind the plate, Ken’s family and guests had arrived for the game and were waiting patiently.
They saw both teams start to walk onto the field from each dugout from their amazing seats, a sign that things were about to kick off.
On the field, Ken’s gaze was locked onto the Miami team as he walked from the dugout. Though he had said those things in the interview, he didn’t tell the full story.
As his eyes fell upon Ryan, the two locked gazes. The man’s sandy blond hair was visible beneath his cap, but it was his blue eyes that shined with competitive fire that was most eye catching.
The two stared at each other as they took the field. Sparks seemed to fly between them, adding to the electric atmosphere of the arena.
They only broke eye contact once it was time to line up.
“Singing the National Anthem, please give a warm welcome to Detroit Legend… Big Shaun!”
The announcer called out over the audio system, bringing with it a cheer from the crowd.
“Please stand for the National Anthem.” The voice directed.
The start of the song began to play over the speakers and everyone soon broke into song.
“Say can you see, by the dawn’s early light…”
Big Shaun nailed his performance, leading to a big round of applause from the crowd. But what happened next made Ken almost jump in fright.
Four F-16’s flew over Comerica park just as the anthem finished, adding to the excitement in the atmosphere.
“That surprised me…” Ken muttered, his hand hovering over his heart.
“You didn’t know it was happening? Do you even pay attention?” Daichi scowled.
Ken narrowed his eyes in response, “Just go and catch the ceremonial pitch already,” he said, shooing his brother away before heading back to the dugout.
He turned, seeing Ryan staring back at him.
Ken flashed him a crooked smile before ignoring him completely. It seemed that their battle had already begun.
All around the world, viewers tuned in to the first game of the World Series between the Detroit Ligers and the Miami Blue Marlins.
“Welcome back once again to Major League Baseball. I’m your host, Bob Carney and as always I’m joined by Bill Cartwright, thanks for joining us.”
“Thanks for having me Bob, I’m very excited to watch today’s game. As we expected, both teams are playing their best pitchers tonight. We could very well see a low scoring game with these two against each other.”
“You’re right Bill, this is the head to head clash that we’ve been waiting for the entire season. Who will win? Will it be Ken with his inhuman pitching speed, or will Ryan come out on top with his unorthodox pitches?”
“It’s hard to say, but we don’t need any predictions to know this game will be intense.”
“Definitely. On the field, Miguel Cabrera the oldest player on the Detroit roster has stepped up to the mound to make the ceremonial first pitch. It’s great to see the club giving Miguel his flowers, he has had a great career.”
“Wow, he still has a cannon of an arm for a 39 year old. If I threw like that when I was 40, you’d probably see me in the hospital the next day.”
“You and me both, Bill. It looks like Detroit are ready to take the field. Coach Mark Williams hasn’t made any changes to the lineup that took out the Houston Arrows in the Championship Series.”
“If it ain’t broke, don’t fix it Bob.”
“Absolutely. Ken is taking the mound now and going through his warm-up pitches. Will he be able to continue his domination this season and carry his team to victory in this first game?”
“Well he certainly looks in good shape. His warm-up pitches are around 90mph, faster than many pitchers can throw going all out. He truly is a talent.”
In a local bar on the streets of Tokyo, a certain group of men sat at a table, their eyes glued to the screen nearby. The place was empty save for them and the bartender.
“Bartender, I’ll have a beer.” A bald man stated, his eyes never leaving the TV.
“I can’t serve you alcohol until 10am… I can get you an orange juice, or a soda, maybe some tea?” The bartender responded.
“Eh!? What kind of bar are you running?” The guy exclaimed.
WHOOOOOSH
PAH
“Strike.”
“Shutup Makoto, its 9am why do you want to drink so early?”
“Hiroki… Why the hell did we come to a bar if you didn’t want to drink?” Makoto glared at his friend in reply.
“Guys, don’t fight. The game just started.” Shiro said, coming between the two. “We’re here to support our friend in the biggest game of his career, can’t you guys just get along?”
Both Makoto and Hiroki glared at Shiro, causing him to shrink back.
“Shiro’s right, I don’t want to hear you guys fighting while the game is on.” Yusuke said with annoyance. “Bartender, get my friend here a warm milk and a bassinet, I think he needs a nap.”
“PFFT.”
Both Shiro and Hiroki tried to hold back their laughs, but it did not go according to plan. Makoto indeed looked like an overgrown baby, particularly with his large bald head that seemed out of proportion.
Makoto let out a sigh, growing wistful. “This is how you treat your former Captain? I was the one who took us all to Koshien to win it all,” he lamented.
“Yeah right, more like it was Ken and Hiroki that carried the team.” Shiro shot back.
“Oi, I helped too.” Yusuke said, frowning.
“I don’t want to hear such talk from a guy who never even played a single game that season.” Makoto shot back, his head shining at that moment.
Shiro froze, his weakness had been struck squarely. He lowered his head and hid his tears.
“Ah come on Makoto, that was a low blow…” Yusuke said.
WHOOOOSH
THWACK!
“Huh!? Ken gave up a hit?”
All four men’s gazes turned to the screen in an instant after hearing the distinctive sound, their eyes widening.