Junior Year Box Set

I found that as the day passed, I was feeling more and more amped-up to play baseball. I’d finally get my chance to play for our national team in international competition. To this point, I’d proven that I was skilled enough to play with some of the elite baseball players in the US. I was sure there were many talented players who had either not been selected to compete or who hadn’t wanted to try out. To me, this was the baseball equivalent of what Elite 11 was for football.

Today marked the beginning of seven games that would determine who would play in the Gold Medal Game. I’m sure everyone expected that we would play Cuba in that game. I’d had a chance to see the talent level playing in Cuba, and I was worried. While we had a much larger pool of players to pull from, which should give us the edge, they were every bit as talented as we were.

That being said, my goal was to dominate the competition here. That was why I was hitting balls in a batting cage while everyone else was visiting with their family and friends. Everyone there for me would understand why I wasn’t spending time with them and wouldn’t complain about me skipping out on family time.

Coach Short, our batting coach, accompanied me.

“Take it easy to start. Nice easy swing. Just see the ball and work on your form.”

I eased myself into the workout. After I warmed up, we switched to a pitching machine, and he cranked it up. The pitcher we were facing today was supposed to have a blazing fastball. We expected that each team would have their best pitcher on the mound against us. They all wanted to be able to say they beat Team USA.

When we finally finished, I found out we’d missed dinner. I sent Fritz a text to see if he could bring us some food. We’d kept to the plan of Paul being my minder. It was expected that at this baseball field, I should be okay because they had security for the ballpark.

The other stadium wasn’t the same. The report was that it wasn’t near as nice and was more open. It was more like a big high school field with covered bleachers to keep the sun off the fans. Fritz was a little worried about security at that location.

I took a shower and got dressed for the game. I was relaxing in the clubhouse when everyone else showed up. Coach Kingwood pulled Coach Short and me into the manager’s office so we could talk.

“How’s he look?” he asked as if I weren’t there.

“He’s ready. I would move him to cleanup for tonight. He was hitting with authority and power. While I love him setting the tone for the game, I like the potential of him racking up RBIs more,” Coach Short said to explain his reasoning.

“What do you think?” Coach Kingwood asked me.

“I’m fine anywhere you put me, but I agree. I feel good and believe I could be effective in the four spot.”

“Okay. We’ll switch it up tonight and then move you back to leadoff for the Cuba game,” Coach Kingwood said, and made sure we agreed. “Take them out, Cap, and get them warmed up.”

“Yes, sir.”

I gathered everyone around, and we trotted out onto the field to warm up. We were designated as the visiting team, so we would be up to bat first. I ran them through the warm-up drills to get their legs loosened up, and then we began doing long tosses.

It was apparent that not everyone was focused. Panama wasn’t supposed to be a challenge, but that didn’t mean that we wouldn’t lose if we goofed off. I pulled the worst offenders aside and talked to them quietly, one-on-one. I hated it when coaches called players out in front of everyone else for something like this. It would be different if it was to make some examples for the team as a whole. All these guys knew what it took to win; I just needed to remind them not to fall into any traps.

We gave the field up to Panama so they could get ready. While they did that, Phil brought me a bag of food. I looked inside and was happy to see it had a nice steak and a big salad. My mom must have helped organize the meal. I walked into the dressing room and ate my dinner. Fortunately, I didn’t have a nervous stomach for this game. I didn’t want to waste the steak.

When I came back out, it was time for the game. They had a big to-do going, and we all lined up and were introduced like it was a real playoff game. Then again, I guess it was. The stadium held nearly 24,000 fans and was about half full. All the USA fans were behind our dugout, while Panama’s were on the other side.

The batboys for each team carried out large American and Panamanian flags, followed by the Mexican flag. All three national anthems were played, and then it was finally time for the game to start.

I watched the kid from Panama warm up and thought his scouting report was overblown. It said that he had three pitches: fastball, changeup, and curve. His fastball was reported to be almost unhittable. Unless he was playing possum, I expected we would have our way with him today.