No Turning Back (4)

"Solid work at first," Chris said with a nod as Linus.

As Linus settled at the 2nd base position he felt that this position would be a bit more challenging, as he had a higher chance to get a grounder to field himself and throw to 1st base in time. He crouched low, trying to stay alert. 

The first grounder came toward him, and Linus moved quickly to his left, getting his glove down just in time to stop the ball. He fumbled slightly as he picked it up but managed to make a decent throw to first, where the 1st baseman made an easy catch.

"Nice fielding," Chris shouted. "Just stay calm and don't rush the throw. Since you are playing 2nd base you will have more time compared to being at shortstop or 3rd base."

The drill continued with the next two grounders being hit to third base and first base respectively. Both players handled their tasks efficiently, leaving Linus standing alert but untouched by action. He had stayed focused, waiting for his chance, but after that, they rotated positions again. Linus found himself at shortstop now.

Shortstop felt different from the first base position. Here, he was in the center of the infield, with more ground to cover and a higher likelihood of being involved in the play. He felt more pressured here, knowing that a lot of responsibility was placed on the shortstop and that he would need to throw further and faster now.

Linus crouched low, his glove hovering just above the dirt, ready to react. The first two balls of this round weren't hit toward him. One was an easy grounder handled by the third baseman, and the other a slow roller along the first base line which was handled by the 1st baseman alone. Linus kept his eyes sharp, studying the movements, his heart pacing itself for his own opportunity.

And then it came—a sharp, fast grounder directly toward his right. Linus instinctively darted in that direction, trying to figure out how best to stop the ball. It was moving so quickly that he couldn't just run up to it like before. 

He had seen players earlier using what looked like an awkward technique—reaching across their bodies with their glove to field the ball when it was out of their natural range. Linus hadn't done that before, but he understood now that he needed to try something similar. 

His legs pushed off, and his glove snapped out just in time—almost.

Just before Linus could catch the ball in his glove, it took a wicked, unexpected bounce on the uneven dirt. Linus failed to react fast enough, and felt the ball hit the edge of his glove, and roll away from him towards 3rd base. Linus cursed under his breath, feeling the sting of disappointment as he saw the ball roll toward Elias, who was playing at third.

Elias, who had been moving in his direction right after the ball was hit this way, watched the play unfold and moved in swiftly. 

He hadn't been passive—he had anticipated the chance to back up Linus, and without missing a beat, Elias scooped up the ball and made a strong throw to first base. The throw was clean, and the 1st baseman caught it.

Chris, who had been observing the play, clapped his hands loudly, signaling his approval. "Nice recovery, Elias!" he called out. "That's exactly what I want to see—don't stay passive, always be prepared for the unexpected."

Linus straightened up, fumbling with his glove a bit, still feeling the heat from the missed play. Chris wasn't done though. He turned toward Linus, his voice encouraging rather than critical. "Linus, that was an unlucky bounce," Chris said, nodding at him. "That's what we train for. Those are the plays that are going to help you improve your reactions. The more you practice, the better you'll be at handling those irregular bounces. You'll get quicker."

Linus nodded, feeling a flush of slight embarrassment mixed with determination. He reassured himself that this wasn't a major mistake—it was just part of the learning process. But he wasn't satisfied with just dismissing it as bad luck. 

As he jogged to 3rd base now, Linus thought hard about what had happened. He realized he had been just a split second too slow. The ball's unpredictable bounce caught him off guard because he hadn't been close enough to smother it before it took that erratic hop. If he had been quicker, maybe he could have scooped it up cleanly before it had the chance to bounce in an awkward direction.

"I've got to be faster," Linus muttered to himself. He replayed the moment in his mind. The key, he realized, was to anticipate the bounce before it even happened, to close the gap between him and the ball quicker, and catch it just before it touched the ground again or right after it touched the ground. It wasn't enough to rely on his reactions—he needed to improve his timing.

The drill continued after they rotated positions again. This time, Linus found himself standing at third base. He crouched low, hands out, ready for the next hit.

Then, for the first ball after the rotation, Chris hit a sharp, direct grounder toward Linus. It wasn't as fast as before, but it was bouncing hard on the infield dirt bouncing higher than the usual grounders.

Linus didn't hesitate. He had thought about what he had failed to do last time. He charged to his left, anticipating where it would bounce next and placed himself where would have enough time to react to any sudden direction changes.

As it bounced he saw that this time it continued straight in the same path, and with that he took a step forward, caught the ball in the air.

This time, there was no fumble, no awkward bounce that he couldn't handle. The ball smacked into his glove with a satisfying thud. He felt the weight of the ball in his glove and immediately pivoted his body toward first base. 

Only this time Linus had been too caught up with focusing on fielding the ball and then feeling too satisfied with the catch, that he had been too careless with his throw to 1st base. Making it miss the base by a couple of meters and therefore forcing the 1st baseman to quickly react and dash off 1st base to make the catch.

Linus felt his stomach drop as he watched the ball sail wide of the 1st baseman, giving him the immediate impulse to facepalm in embarrassment, wishing he could disappear after making such a simple mistake.