Top of the third started with the top of our lineup. Noah and I both got ready to bat and stood by the on deck circle, watching the pitcher throw a few pitches.
Noah looked relaxed. His shoulders weren't tense and his practice swing looked to be smooth. He paused to smile at me. "It feels good to already have a hit. Like I don't have to worry about continuing a hit streak or working up my average."
"Wouldn't it be better if you did work up your average?" I asked.
Noah scratched the tip of his nose. "Well...yes. But if I get one hit a game, that should put me close to .300 and that'd be awesome!"
I raised an eyebrow. "But if you bat first, and only get one hit a game...that would put you closer to .250 if you get four at-bats a game. Plus...you struggled a few weeks ago so your average is already pretty low."
Noah glared at me. "Are you trying to make me feel worse?"
I shrugged, feeling a little guilty. "Sorry. I just didn't think your math was right."
"Now you're putting me down for my math skills?" He cracked a smile and slapped my shoulder. "Alright, I'm just messing with ya. I know I need to do more. Just watch and wait." He turned on his heel and left for the batter's box.
I watched. I waited. But Noah just didn't have a good at-bat. He struck out swinging. On three pitches. That's the worse way to go. Or maybe looking is worse? I don't know. I should ask.
I gave Noah a sympathetic smile as he walked back to the dugout. He gave me a sheepish grin, looking slightly embarrassed. Something I can relate to.
I got in the lefty's box, prepared to face the pitcher. I wanted to make him work some more, but didn't get the chance. He threw four straight pitches in the dirt against me. I don't know if he lost control or if he thought he could get me swinging like he did to Noah. I lightly tossed my bat towards the dugout and jogged to first.
Garret came up next. The pitcher threw him a strike in the zone, and Garret took advantage of that by smacking a single to right field, helping me advanced to second base.
Two on, one out, Zeke up to bat. If Zeke hadn't grounded out in the first inning, I would think that this is a recipe for some run scoring. I mean, it could still be one. I shouldn't be so negative. I have to score.
I looked to Mr. Miller as he gave out the signs. It never changed for Zeke: hit. For me and Garret, it was a run on contact. Just be wary of fly balls because I'd have to run back.
The pitcher was still wild, and was quick to get in an unfavorable count against Zeke. 3-0. He threw one in the zone and Zeke let it pass for a called strike. The next pitch wasn't as lucky. He ripped it to left field.
I could tell the left fielder wasn't going to be able to make the catch so I started to sprint. On my way to third, Mr. Miller was waving his whole arm in a windmill motion, telling me to go home. I tagged third and sped up again.
Julian was by home plate, picking up Zeke's bat and tossing it to the dugout. "No slide, Jake!"
I tagged home, scoring our second run of the game, 2-1. I turned around to see that the ball was already thrown back to the infield, leaving Garret at third base and Zeke at second. A standup double. The team was clapping for Zeke, and on my way back to my seat, a few of them slapped the top of my helmet.
"Good run."
"Not bad, Bambi!"
"Bet you're happy that you didn't have to slide."
That last comment made me laugh. It came from Dave so he knows me best. He would see me practice sliding every practice, and could probably tell that I'm still not very proficient at it.
"Man, I remember when you would get out of breath just running to one base." Noah laughed as I put the helmet away.
I slapped on my hat. "I'm still winded." Who knows how I would fare if we were in the mountains.
"That's normal. I just wanted to point out that your speed and endurance has really improved." Noah told me, keeping his eyes on Julian at the plate. "You'll definitely win 'Most Improved Player' at the team awards at the end of the season."
I blushed. "There are awards at the end of the season?"
"Of course!" Noah glanced at me. "Team awards. League awards. And CIF awards. That's how you get recognition. Bet you can't guess all the awards Zeke has won."
I shook my head. I probably couldn't.
"He keeps them in a box in the garage. We'll pull it out sometime. He used to keep them on a shelf in the living room, but it became too much of a hassle. He won so many and they're mostly repetitive so he doesn't bother with them anymore." Noah told me.
"Wow."
Noah nodded. "It's crazy."
"Do you have awards?" I asked.
Noah nodded again. "I have some team awards from winning a few tournaments and whatnot, but I packed those away when high school started. New page and all that. Put the past behind you, blah blah blah." His eyes went back to the field.
I got the sense that he didn't want to talk about it. Maybe he had won the awards with those other freshmen, who now hated him.
'Ding!'
The ball being hit snapped me out of my speculations. I looked to the field, trying to find where the ball went.
Noah jumped up and started to clap and cheer with the rest of the dugout.
I couldn't find the ball anymore, but the sound of our dugout mixed in with the sight of Julian jogging the bases led me to the conclusion of him hitting a home run. A 3-run home run. 5-1.
Garret and Zeke both tagged home plate and waited for Julian. They high-fived, exchanged laughs and all came back to the dugout to celebrate some more.