On an 0-2 count, my only thought was to defend the plate. Bryan's windup seemed to go slow in sharp contrast to his pitching speed. It would help if I got to see more of his pitches like I did with Rhys. Iif I could distinguish his fastball from his breaking balls, then I could take advantage.
Committed to at least fouling off the next pitch, I started my swing as soon as Bryan released his next pitch. What I didn't count on was a low ball in the dirt. I completely whiffed and lost my balance, ending up in an ugly posture.
"Strike three. You're out." Rhys stated calmly.
I groaned.
"Hey, hey! Are you sure this kid is a batter? That was only three pitches. I expected something more dramatic." Bryan hollered from the mound with a wide grin.
My lips twisted with disgust and disbelief. Something more dramatic? Than me striking out? I bit the inside of my cheek to calm myself down. This guy was in the minor league. He's trying to be a pro. It's only reasonable for him to get me out.
"Again?" I looked back at Rhys to ask.
Rhys shrugged. "Go ahead."
Danny threw the ball back to Bryan on the mound and everyone got set again.
This time around, I wasn't going to let the ball get by. I will foul off what I can't hit. Bryan started with a fastball high, but still in the zone. I fouled it back. Tchh. That could have been a hit if I used the middle of my bat. It's a game of millimeters.
The second pitch was low and outside. I didn't think I could reach and took my chances on it being a ball.
"Strike." Rhys said.
I glanced back at him. That was a borderline call. If Rhys had called it a ball, the catcher wouldn't be able to complain. Yet, I'm the one getting burned. Was he doing this intentionally?
The third pitch came high. Almost at eye-level. No way he can call that one a strike.
"Ball. 1-2." Rhys said.
Pitch four and five were outside, but I was abled to foul them offf. Just in case. Six went in the dirt and I held up on my swing. Seven came inside; I got a good piece of it, hitting a line drive just foul of the first baseline. Come on, Jake, you can do this. You've faced good pitchers before.
Bryan threw another pitch. A fastball. Blazing fast. I swung, felt it touch, but then heard the 'plop' sound of it hitting the catcher's mitt.
"Foul-tip strikeout." Rhys sounded apologetic.
I sighed and took a step back.
"Can I have a turn now??" Ian called out.
"I've only gotten two outs." Bryan told him. "Let me get one more to complete an inning."
Ian scoffed. "Is it fun to bully a kid?"
"It is." Bryan nodded like he didn't hear anything wrong.
"Just sit down and wait your turn." Blake spoke up for the first time. "Or do you want me to go before you?"
Ian obediently got quiet and sat on the bench of their dugout.
I swallowed and gripped my bat a little tighter. This wasn't like me. None of it. I don't usually bat this bad nor do I get mad about it. Their taunting might be getting to me. I had the feeling that they were picking on me and belittling my lack of skills. I took a step away from the batter's box, turned my back to them and took a few deep breaths. I loosened my grip to take a few light swings.
"Ready?" Rhys asked.
I turned back to them and nodded, stepping back into the batter's box.
Bryan grinned and started to do his windup again. This time I tried not to panic. I followed the ball's trajectory all the way through. From what I can tell, Bryan used the four-seamer and two-seamer interchangeably, without any hint of difference until it came out of his hand. He also had a curve with big movement, yet there were some variables.
I worked to a full count and continued to foul off every pitch after. It's not that I didn't want to put it in play, but Bryan was good at picking tough locations for me to make contact. I don't think I ever faced anyone with such good control.
By the tenth pitch in this at-bat, Bryan had lost his smile and excitement. He was now in the zone, not giving any facial expressions away. He got set, skipped the windup for the first time, and pitched from the stretch.
Completely thrown off, I swung a bit late and missed. Dang it. I bit my bottom lip and looked at Bryan who came off the mound.
Bryan laughed at my aggrieved expression. "Don't be so down, kiddo. I had to do what I can to get you out. It's still within the rules."
I sighed.
"That last battle was tough! You've got a great swing." He complimented me, but I didn't feel good about it. I didn't get a hit in three at-bats.
I ignored him and watched as Ian came jogging out of the dugout. He got on the mound and waved his arms. "Ball!"
Danny, who was now standing, glanced at me. "Let him throw a few warmup pitches."
I nodded and stepped away. Rhys and Bryan followed me off to the side.
"How are you feeling?" Rhys asked me.
I pursed my lips. "I don't know."
He raised an eyebrow.
I looked towards Ian on the mound, watching him throw. I want to study his windup to make sure it wasn't as dramatic as Bryan's. Ian was rather low key; he would take a small step back, get set, small leg lift, then threw to home. Very basic. What I'm used to. I didn't relax though.
When he was ready, I got back in the lefty's box, Rhys stood behind Danny, and Bryan went back to the dugout. I had a more 'successful' first at-bat with Ian than I did with Bryan. I didn't strikeout on three pitches. I still struck out though. It was a 2-2 count, then I missed a breaking ball. I couldn't tell what it was.
I had a sinking feeling that it was his go-to strikeout pitch. In the next at-bat, my gut was right. On a full count, he threw the same pitch and I missed again. I looked up at the night sky and sighed. I can't foul off a bunch of pitches like I did with Bryan because as soon as there are two strikes, he'll throw a pitch I haven't seen before. I've never felt this distressed when batting. Is this what others feel like?
I tried to think back to Noah's slump when he went games without getting a hit. I could kind of relate now. Five straight strikeouts. What to do, what to do.
The first two strikes were key. I couldn't get into a hole, because I wouldn't be able to dig myself out. Feeling pressured, I swung at the first pitch and got under it. Too bad it went straight up.
Danny jumped up and took his mask off. He tracked the ball to the foul area in front of the dugout and made the catch. It wasn't a strikeout, but it was only a one pitch at-bat so I would even say that it's a bit worse.
Ian could tell I wasn't in the mood for a chat and went back to the dugout. Blake came out and went to the mound. I stepped away so he could get some warmup pitches in. I took my helmet off, placed it on the ground and used it as a small stool. I watched Blake pitch, trying to get a feel for his movements.
It was no use. Inside the box, he destroyed me with simple speed and location. Should I not be swinging and fouling pitches? What's going on? Is this the difference between high school and the minors? That can't be right.
I hit better than Zeke, yet I couldn't see him doing this poorly. Especially as a first round pick. So the problem must lay within me. Something was wrong with my approach. Or maybe my lack of knowledge? I couldn't tell what Ian's breaking pitch was. But also, my bat swing couldn't keep up with Blake. It was harder than playing in the batting cages thanks to the location of his pitches. Crazy good. If these three can get me out, I can't imagine what the majors is like.
I feel bad blaming Jeremy for going into a slump now. I was finding reasons why his head wasn't in the game, but it's obviously not that simple. Jeremy is only seven years older than me. Yet, he was already an all-star in his second year in the big leagues.
How? How does he do it?