Junior Year Box Set

“This week, we will play six games, starting tonight and going through Sunday. Do not expect to play all the games. Everyone will get a shot to play, some more than others. The goal is to halve your numbers so we have twenty for the national team. We may not take the best if we feel they aren’t a good fit for the team,” he explained.

We then watched video of past international play so we had a better idea of what to expect. The whole time we watched, he kept coaching us. I liked how Coach Kingwood did things.

Eventually, the two laggards were let into the room. I wasn’t surprised when one of them was Dave. I think the fact that he had to wait to get in, plus the embarrassment of everyone staring at him, got his attention.

“Third row, I need you to follow the equipment manager and help him load everything we need on the bus. We leave in fifteen minutes. Dawson, I need you to stay for a minute,” Coach Kingwood said, and then dismissed us.

He waited until we were alone.

“I understand you won’t be here on Saturday.”

“Yes, sir. I’ll be in LA for the ESPY Awards. I’m one of six who are competing for the Gatorade Male Athlete of the Year award.”

“Do you think that’s more important than this?” he asked.

“If you tell me you need me here, I’ll stay. I’m warning you, though: if you do, you have to tell my mom.”

He smiled.

“No, I was just giving you a hard time. If you go, you’d better win.”

“I wouldn’t be going if I didn’t think I had a chance.”

“Once we get to the park, I want you to lead them in warm-ups. I want them used to you being in charge on the field.”

“Yes, sir.”

◊◊◊

As the bus pulled up to Minute Maid Park, the home of the Houston Astros, I stood up and walked to the front of the aisle.

“When we get off, grab your gear and get it to the dugout. We’ll stretch and do a little running to get the blood flowing. We only have so much practice time today. I know that the majority of the players that will make the final team are on this bus. Let me give you some advice from someone who’s gone through a few camps similar to this. Everything counts. Hustle, support your teammates, and take everything seriously,” I said.

“You heard him. Get moving,” Coach Kingwood said.

I took them out to center field where everyone grabbed a partner and stretched. I grabbed the kid that had been late with Dave to be my partner. His name was Tristan Pratt, and he was the youngest player here. Once we were done stretching, I gathered them around.

“Baseball is not a slow or static sport. When playing baseball, the actions are centered on power, acceleration, explosiveness, and movement. I see too many ballplayers half-ass it because the game can have long periods when you aren’t involved in the action. Coach Kingwood was correct when he talked about ‘what’s important now.’ The point he was trying to get across was that you have to keep your head in the game, and when something happens, you need to react—explosively. That’s one reason warming up your body and stretching out is essential.”

I started them off doing runs of ninety feet, the distance from home to first. Then I had them do exercises that both Shiggy and my speed coach had taught me: high knee lifts, lateral side skips, and fast feet.

We then split up and grabbed our gloves. I went with the outfielders to do drills. We started off with little round cones in a straight line behind me. Coach would toss the ball over my head, and I was supposed to turn and run straight back to catch the ball over my shoulder. This was similar to what Coach Haskins did with me, so I did okay.

Tristan was up next. As the ball flew over his head, the coach called out, “Crossing it.”

That meant he had crossed the cone line and not run straight back. If you crossed the cones, you had to fade back to get into position to catch the ball. It was all in the details. Tristan seemed nervous, but I quietly pointed out it was just baseball, and with my encouragement, he relaxed. I’d guessed right. The younger players had some real talent.

◊◊◊

Before the game, I was able to speak with M.E. She’d been invited to be our batgirl because her brother was on the team. She’d talked her mom into allowing her to bring Kelly with her.

“Has Kelly talked to you?” I asked.

“About her huge crush on you? I told her to tell you about it.”

“We did more than talk,” I said.

It appeared the hamster had fallen off the wheel in her head by the blank look she gave me. I wasn’t sure if she didn’t know what I was talking about or what. I waited for her brain to re-engage as she figured it out. Then I watched as she went from pissed, to curious, to mystified, to finally a blank stare.

“Are you okay?” I asked, concerned.

“If you were just looking to get laid, why not do it with one of those cheerleaders?”

“That would be my normal operating procedure,” I admitted, and then took a deep breath. “Kelly came to my room, and one thing led to another.”

“… one thing led to another,” M.E. mimicked my voice in a snarky way.