I took a moment to calm myself down from the last half inning. Even though I felt better after knowing that Kyle wasn't too upset, the anxiety and guilt were still hanging on. There was another feeling within me that I couldn't describe. Something between guilt and wanting to have made that stop.
I looked up and saw Etna switching pitchers again as Jason was up to bat, with Garret on deck. I had some time so I turned to Noah to ask a question that came to mind. "Would you have been able to stop that grounder?"
Noah tilted his head as he looked at me. He had also sat down and was pulling on his batting gloves even though it would take some time to get to him in the lineup. "Why do you ask?"
I stayed quiet. I know he'll get upset if he knows I still feel guilty about it.
"Are you asking for comparison? Or are you asking in order to improve yourself?" He asked once he knew I wasn't going to answer the original question.
I hesitated. "Both..?" That sounds about right. I wanted to compare to see how far behind I am and to see how much I'm lacking in fielding.
"Ehh, wrong answer." Noah shook his head.
My jaw dropped. I waited for him to explain, but his attention was on the field. The game had resumed.
I poked him. "Are you going to tell me why it's wrong? Or at least, what would have been the right answer?"
Noah shrugged. "Maybe. Eventually. Who knows."
"Jake!" Coach called out.
I jumped up, dropping my bat from my lap to the floor. I fumbled to pick it up and then looked at the coach. "Yes?" I answered weakly.
"You're supposed to be on deck. Stop chatting and start focusing." He crossed his arms across his chest.
I nodded and hurried pass him so I could step outside the dugout. Garret was already in the middle of his at-bat and Jason was standing on first base. He must have walked since I didn't hear anything. Garret got one over the first baseman's head and made it to first for a single, pushing Jason to second base.
I swung my bat for a practice swing before walking up to the lefty's box. My mind should have been on the new pitcher and examining his pitches, but I was still stuck on the grounder that I couldn't stop. I wonder if I had stopped it, would Garret have been so aggressive with the next batter? Maybe it would have ended with the homerun hitter instead of us losing the lead.
"Strike." Oh, I let one pass by for a called strike.
"Don't be distracted!" Someone called out from my team's dugout. Was it Noah? One of the twins? Or someone else? Why can't I remember whose voice that is? Was I not listening properly?
"Strike two." The umpire let me know that another had passed by and into the strike zone no less.
I pressed my lips together and opened my eyes a little wider as I stared down this new pitcher. Focus. Attention. Concentration. They're all the same.
The third pitch came inside but still within the zone. I swung, connected, and pulled the ball to right field. I dropped the bat and tried to take off. Emphasis on tried. My left leg had crossed to my right, and I stepped on my own foot, causing me to tumble to the dirt. On my hands and knees, I looked up to see the ball already being thrown in from right field. I scrambled to get up, only to hit the dirt again my cleat had gotten stuck in the laces. I could only watch as the first baseman got the ball and tagged first.
"Out!"
I could hear laughter from all around: my dugout, their dugout, the whole bleacher behind the fencing. My face heated up as I struggled to a sitting position, trying to get my cleat out of the laces.
"Calm down. You're already out. No need to rush." Zeke told me, taking a knee near me. "Let me help."
I wanted to tell him 'no' but it's not like I was able to get it right. I just hung my head as he worked on it.
"Are you hurt at all?" I heard Zeke asked.
I shook my head, still refusing to make eye contact.
"That's good."
What could possibly be good? I just tripped in front of everyone and they're all laughing at me. I lifted the collar of my jersey so I could hide my face. Don't cry. It's pointless.
"Jake?" I heard Noah's voice. "You okay?"
"He's fine." Zeke answered. "Just embarrassed, most likely."
I nodded, still hiding my face.
I felt a pat on my leg. "Good to go. Head back to the dugout now. Make sure you didn't scrape your hands or knees." Zeke told me.
"Let's go back, Jake." I could feel Noah tugging on my arm. "Come on. I'm here with you." I let him help me up and guide me back as I continued to hide my face.
We walked slowly until Noah told me we were in the dugout. I sat down quietly, trying to calm myself on the inside before putting down the jersey.
"Jake? It's me." I heard Drew nearby. "Can you let me check you over? You had a nasty fall. Let's make sure those hands aren't torn up or anything."
I shook my head. My hands didn't hurt. But my pride did. I really didn't want to show my face to anyone right now.
"It wasn't that bad!" Noah seemingly had enough of me hiding. "Let drew check you out already. If you don't let him do it now, you'll have to do it alone. I have to go to the on deck circle after Zeke's at-bat."
I don't think I could face anyone alone. I put down the jersey and wiped my cheeks from the few tears that had escaped.
"That's better." Noah nodded approvingly. "Check him out doc."
"I'm not a doctor." Drew corrected. He then pried my hands off my shirt. "Let's check the hands." He pulled gauze out of his bag and wiped my hands. "Good. They're fine. Nothing cut or bleeding. How about your knees?"
I patted my knees lightly to show that they were fine.
"Of course he's okay!" Dave ambled over. "He's already so close to the ground so a trip or two won't hurt him." He chuckled. "The only thing that should be hurting is your pride, right?"
I bit my lip, yet gave him a nod in the affirmative.
He laughed a little harder. "Poor Bambi. Were you scared by Zeke's yell?"
"Zeke yelled?" I mumbled. "I didn't know."
"He said not to be distracted." Dave raised an eyebrow. "You didn't hear it? He was in the circle when he yelled at you."
I felt the blood rush to my face. "Oh. No, I heard it then."
Drew patted my head and gave me a sympathetic look. "Well, it'll be forgotten soon. Tell me if anything starts to hurt." He walked over to Coach to presumably share the news of me being okay.