The Hitting Zone-Novel

Chapter 235 Zeke’s Tryout 1

Noah’s eyes sparkled with excitement just at the thought. He started to look at the other baseball related items as i got lost in my thoughts. It was almost as if he was ready to graduate high school and move on to the next stage. Where as I...I didn’t know what to do or where to go. Just trying to keep up with Noah now made me tired. And I wasn’t even doing a good job at it. Even if I was the best hitter in the world, who would want someone who can’t field? Did I like baseball enough to even move on to the next level? The only reason I played now, was because Noah wanted me to. Could he single handedly drag me to the professional level with him? That’s not very realistic.

"Jake?" Mrs. Atkins voice pulled me out of my own head. She was holding two different sizes of the same shirt. "Are you okay?"

I shrugged. "Just thinking."

She smiled. "No need to stress about the future." She told me as if she was reading my mind. "There’s a saying that you should know by now: everything can change in a New York minute. That means any given millisecond. One decision can change your whole future. But then, another decision can change it in a completely new direction."

I contemplated over her words, then nodded. "Thanks." I mumbled.

Her smile grew, a trait Noah definitely got from her, making me relax a little more. She held up the two different sizes to compare to my body. "I’m trying to decide if I should get you the small or the medium. The small would definitely fit you best, but if you have a growth spurt then the medium would last longer."

"Medium." I looked up to her to make eye contact. "I’ll grow."

"Of course you will!" Noah popped back up, tackling me from behind. I fell forward a few steps but was able to hold us up. "Hey, Mom, can I also get this keychain? It’s only a few dollars."

Mrs. Atkins frowned. "The shirts are already so much. Why would you want a keychain anyway? You don’t have any keys."

He feigned a hurt expression. "For a keepsake. I decided that I want to get a keychain from every college I visit since I won’t officially be going to any after high school."

"Good lord," She rolled her eyes up. "What have I ever done to get a hell-raiser like Noah?"

"You were obviously a saint." Noah grinned. "Not every mother could be blessed with a boy like me."

She held out the five t-shirts to Noah. "You hold everything until we get to the cash register then if you want that keychain." She looked at me. "You want anything else? You should get something extra too."

I shook my head. I was happy with just the shirt.

We headed to the front of the store where the registers were. Mr. Atkins stood awkwardly high among the student population, with his arms full of snacks. We joined him, got in line, and they paid for everything before we hurried to the stadium. According to the time, we took longer than the time allotted.

As we walked into the stadium, I was surprised to see how many people came just to watch a practice. We found the twins saving a few seats behind home plate and a few rows back.

"What took you guys so long?" Dave whined.

"Yea, you already missed the warmups." Kyle added.

Mr. Atkins waved the snack bag before settling into a seat. "Sounds like you two don’t want a snack. Looks like you’ll just have to wait for dinner."

They pounced, begging for forgiveness. Mr. Atkins, satisfied with their act, pulled out some snacks to give to them.

"It’s not like you missed much." Dave relaxed back in his seat with food in hand. "They just ran around a lot. Did some static stretching. Now they’re tossing the ball."

Sure enough, they were normally throwing the ball back and forth. It was easy to spot Zeke since he was the only one not in a matching Stanford baseball practice shirt. He was paired up with the guy that picked him up at the hotel.

"He gets to throw with Bradley Thompson?" Noah asked as we received our own snacks from Mr. Atkins.

"Of course." Kyle munching on his food. "They’re both outfielders. With strong arms. Look, they’re already having one line back up, further and further."

Zeke was with the line that stayed on the foul line while the other half kept backing up towards center field. I could never throw that far. Okay, never is a strong word. I would at least need more training to get to that level.

"What if Zeke can’t make a long throw like Bradley? Do you think they’ll cut the tryout short for him? Just send him on his way?" Dave asked.

Mr. Atkins shot him a stern look, causing him to zip it. "I’m sure it’ll be a fair tryout. They did want to see all that he had. I imagine he’ll get to do the full practice."

"Yea dummy." Kyle laughed, nudging Dave.

"Kyle." Mrs. Atkins warned. "Be good. No name calling."

"Sure Mom." Kyle replied, nonchalant.

I looked nervously at Noah and whispered. "Will Zeke be okay? He won’t suck like Dave said, right?"

"Of course." Noah said confidently. "Zeke is someone that’s being scouted by the pros. And he dominates at the high school level. He’ll easily fit in at the college level. Probably continue to stand out if you ask me." Noah smirked. "Could you imagine Zeke blending in?"

I let out a little laugh, happy with Noah’s answer. If he wasn’t worried, then I won’t worry. He knows Zeke and baseball better than I do, so if he says it’s alright then I’m sure it is. I watched as that Bradley guy backed up, still playing catch.

"That’s about the distance from second base to a long fly in center field." Noah narrated as they got further apart. "And that could be the distance from center field to either first or third base." They kept getting further apart. Noah squinted. "Finally. That just might be the distance from home plate to a high fly to center field. You know what that means?"

I shook my head.

"That if there was a runner on third with zero or one outs, and they were attempting to tag up on a long fly ball to center field, well...Zeke might be able to throw them out."

My jaw dropped. I checked the distance between the lines. Every one of them looked to have a strong arm. They were all present so that must mean infielders too.