Back To Mound [2]

"Director, this is quite a blow to my pride."

The man who had covered his face with a towel until just a moment ago now revealed his face completely. Dave was a tall white male, standing at 188 cm. Santa Monica's team already considered him a superstar in California.

The Santa Monica coach nodded. "Hmm. They're been hiding such a talent, Dave. What should we do?"

"I think it would be polite to show a little of our capabilities. Let's select only three people from team 1 and send them out."

Since the season hadn't even started yet, they had initially sent out the second team for inspection.

However, the opponent's secret weapon, which was supposed to be hidden, had shown up in a practice match.

"If the game ends like this, we in Santa Monica will not be able to show our faces."

Even though it was a friendly match, pride was at stake.

At least the opponent didn't hide their power, so it was only natural that Santa Monica should respond in kind. Dave did not take his eyes off Lucas.

'I want to experience it myself. I should save the best for later.' He decided to meet Lucas when he was in peak condition.

Dave swallowed his regret and bit his lip. In the bottom of the 9th inning, Santa Monica's first team came to the plate.

* * *

'It's the first team.'

Lucas, who went up to the mound in the 9th inning, glanced at the players swinging while waiting to bat.

'It's definitely different, but…' It was different, but he didn't think it was outstanding.

'Even though they're first-team players, did they send out substitutes?'

Looking at the swings, it seemed that way.

Regardless of whether their posture or power was properly applied to the bat, something seemed to be lacking.

'I'm not good enough to call the center line. What is this?'

Lucas suppressed his laughter. Whether they were candidates or starters, just being called up to the first team was an achievement in its own right.

'I'm sorry. They can't hit my ball.'

Unlike in the 8th inning, Lucas was completely relaxed.

At the same time, he had fully adapted to the mound. Of course, because the catcher was not perfect, throwing all his pitches was still prohibited.

At least he was sure that the batters couldn't hit his pitches with those swings.

And Lucas's thoughts came true just as he had predicted.

WOOOSH—!

THUMP—!

"Strike!"

WOOOSH—!

THUMP—!

"Strike!"

WOOOSH—!

THUMP—!

"Strike out!"

The leadoff batters, who came out as pinch hitters, all swung and missed.

They clearly swung at the right time, but for some reason, the ball never touched the bat.

The batter who struck out trudged to the dugout and muttered softly to the next batter, "When I stand at the plate, the ball feels a lot faster. And…"

After hearing this, the next batter's eyes widened.

Although he tilted his head the moment he stepped into the batter's box, he quickly understood, "Strike out!"

The moment he experienced it firsthand, his jaw dropped in amazement.

The batter who struck out this time also trudged toward the dugout.

The next batter asked, "But isn't it only 90 miles per hour? No matter how I look at it, it only looks like 90 miles."

Although the ball was fast at 90 mph, they were a prestigious baseball team that ranked second in California.

They had always been exposed to 90 mph pitches, so this wasn't a pitch that should trouble them.

The batter who struck out relayed to the next batter exactly what he felt at the plate.

"The ball is about 90 miles per hour. But…"

"When I stand at the plate, it feels like it's well over 90 miles per hour."

"What the hell does that mean?"

"I don't know either. Stand at the plate and experience it. I thought it was 100 miles? And not only that, the ball... The ball soars over the plate."

"What is 100 miles, and what kind of nonsense is this about the ball rising?"

The batter entered what could possibly be his last at-bat of the game with a furrowed brow. And when Lucas's ball hit the catcher's mitt, he remembered what the previous batter had said.

'Oh, really? The ball is soaring? A high school student is throwing a rising fastball?'

And finally...

"Strike out! Game over!"

Even though the first team participated, the game ended without anyone touching Lucas's ball.

* * *

"Hey, Lucas."

On Monday morning, Mike visited Lucas without fail. Judging from his bright smile, it seemed like his feelings about their previous argument had died down.

"What?"

"I heard you played baseball?"

Lucas licked his lower lip with his tongue.

He had gone around telling everyone that he wouldn't play, but he ended up playing baseball and got caught. Lucas's cheeks began to turn bright red.

'Ah, this damn mouth.'

Mike tapped Lucas's shoulder.

"I heard you won against Santa Monica? Four RBIs and six strikeouts in two innings? Against that prestigious baseball team?"

Mike kept praising him, but Lucas just felt uneasy.

'I was up against the second team.'

What's there to be proud of about beating the second team? It would be rather strange for the first team to lose to the second team.

"Oh, by the way, the principal's office called for you again. You should deal with it properly."

At Mike's words, Lucas got up and headed to the principal's office. He knocked and gently turned the doorknob of the principal's office he had visited before.

"Welcome, Lucas. Please, take a seat."

The principal and Coach Donald, who had spoken to him a few days ago, were smiling at him. The moment Lucas sat down, the principal got straight to the point.

"I heard the news. A grand slam and six consecutive strikeouts, huh?"

The principal's voice was excited.

"Excellent. Lucas's talent is truly remarkable."

The principal looked at Lucas with genuine admiration, but Lucas shook his head.

"No, the opponent was a second-tier team."

"Yes, it was the second team. But I heard that the first team came out in the 9th inning."

"They came out, but they hadn't even warmed up properly. Also, they cannot be considered perfect first-team players as they are reserve players."

The principal glanced at Coach Donald, who nodded in agreement.

"What you said is correct. In the 8th inning, he faced second-team players. And in the 9th inning, he faced first-team players, but the last player to bat was No. 7. He was not a main player in the lower batting order, and the two players before him were substitutes."

Lucas quickly spoke up to avoid being misunderstood.

"It is a given that we will win against the second team. If we had lost yesterday's game, my teammates and I would have been very disappointed. It was a game we absolutely could not lose."

The principal looked at Lucas, proud of him for speaking with conviction.

"Lucas is truly remarkable. Even if he is proud of himself, no one can say anything, but he is so strict with himself."

"Now that I've decided to play baseball properly, I have no intention of doing it half-heartedly."

"Great. Then, how about playing against another school's first team?"

"You mean with the first team?"

"Yes. Shouldn't that be enough for Lucas to be confident in his own talents?"

"Yes, please."

It was a really enjoyable experience to be on the mound after such a long time.

However, the practice game against the second team was not a means of assessing his talent. Lucas wanted to properly verify his talents even just a little bit more.

Although he said he was playing baseball properly, it was true that he still had some hesitation in his heart.

However, once he confirmed that his talent was real, he felt like he could truly devote himself to baseball without any hesitation.

"Then can I go?"

The principal and Coach Donald nodded simultaneously. When Lucas left the room, their discussion continued.

"Coach Donald, what do you think?"

"What do you mean, principal?"

"No matter how ignorant I am about baseball, I didn't think we could beat Santa Monica's second team with an improvised team. But the results exceeded my expectations."

Even so, only one player performed a one-man show and defeated his opponent.

Lucas showed perfect form both as a pitcher and a hitter.