Chapter 1135  V3 ch369 CIF Final: Branham HS  (8)

"Unbelievable timing!" Jason slapped Dave on the back.

"You two are probably the only ones crazy enough to even try that." Sean said to Noah.

Dave didn't waste time chatting with us. He and Mitchell met up and started to talk near the cubby. They would both be up to bat in the bottom of the seventh, however they still needed to discuss the pitching signs. Coach was right there with them, probably giving advice. Even Garret went over.

"I think that pick off really saved the atmosphere in the dugout." Alisha stopped by to whisper to us. "Keep up the good work."

Noah smiled and picked up his water after we had sat down. "It's not like there's anything to be sad about yet. Just means we get to play some more baseball."

I looked at him, amazed at his mentality. I did not share those same thoughts. Instead, I felt sick to my stomach at the idea of losing and everyone being sad and disappointed.

Mitchell hit the ball, drawing everyone's attention. It was just a blooper to right, but good enough for a single. The new pitcher was a lefty that I'm sure we played against last time.

Noah jumped up. "Seems like we might rebound right now." He pointed at me and Alisha. "Don't call it a comeback!" He went to the cubby to get ready for his at bat.

I blinked, then looked at Alisha. "What does that mean? Don't call it a comeback?"

Alisha looked at me. "Jake…I won't lie to you. I don't know either." She shrugged and went over to Coach because he was waving her over.

Logan was up at the plate with Dave just behind him in the on deck circle. The lefty looked like he was still trying to find the rhythm. On a full count to Logan, his pitch was on the border of the strike zone and the umpire gifted ball four to Logan.

Our dugout got loud with the exception of me as I got ready for my at bat too. I stood next to Coach, strapping on my gloves.

"Hope you get your chance, kid." Coach patted me on the back.

I nodded. "Me too." It would depend on the situation for sure.

Mr. Miller gave the signs out. Dave wasn't supposed to swing. At all.

I glanced at Coach, a little confused.

"Rather have one out than two." Coach said, expression unchanged. "Plus, the pitcher just walked Logan. If we could load the bases with another walk, that would be perfect."

Reality didn't let that perfect scenario play out. The pitcher found his stride and struck out Dave, looking. Dave came back, Noah moved to the batter's box, and I went to the on deck circle.

Mr. Miller allowed Noah to swing. With caution. A double play would send us to extra innings. I personally think a walk is best. Load the bases for me. But for Noah, the best would be getting a hit and driving in the winning run. I'd be okay with that too. He would be so happy. Honestly, he deserves it.

But again, reality was cruel. Noah connected but his swing was short. A fast grounder went just right of the second base. The second baseman was there to make the stop, then he smoothly flipped the ball to the shortstop covering the base with just his glove. The shortstop threw to first. Out and out.

The groans from our side was louder than the cheers for Branham. I waited for Noah to come back to make sure he wasn't down on himself.

Noah picked up his bat on the way in. He made eye contact with me. He cracked a sad smile. "Guess you'll get that empty slate next inning. Do me a favor and try for that homer, okay?"

I nodded.

We want back together. Mitchell and Logan were right there with us, switching gear. Mitchell even had to get his equipment on, leaving Dave to warm up with Korrey.

Top of the eighth would start with the top of the order. This time, we were back to having the advantage on defense. There were no runners to steal signs and Dave had a fresh arm. The leadoff guy hit a simple fly out to Logan in left and then Dave dominated with back to back strikeouts, proving that Garret wasn't the only star we had.

Dave wasn't afraid to let us know it too. Back in the dugout as we prepared for the bottom of the ninth, he was talking about how he would be the winning pitcher today.

Garret rolled his eyes as he pulled his batting gloves on. "Dude, that only happened because you gave up the runs last inning."

"Correction." Dave snapped and pointed two finger guns at him. "You were charged for those runs."

"I wouldn't brag about blowing a save." Noah said with a laugh.

"Bro, you just grounded into a double play last inning." Dave pointed out. "You have no room to talk."

Noah relaxed on the bench. "It is what it is." He caught me looking at him. "What are you waiting for, Jake?"

Right. I tightened the hold on my bat and left the dugout first. I took a practice swing and stretched.

"Now batting, number zero, Jake Atkins." Was announced over the speakers and echoed around.

"JAKE! JAKE! JAKE!" The crowd started to chant.

My stomach flipped and I tried to look calm as I stepped into the batter's box.

"Don't let them scare you, Bambi!" Noah was just feet away, leaning over the short dugout fence.

The corner of my mouth tugged. I knew Noah wasn't saying that because of the other team, but because he knew I was afraid of the expectations placed on me. I had grown as a player though.

The first pitch from the lefty came inside and brush me back off the plate for ball one. A few 'boos' came about. But I didn't mind. Any pitch that came my way was a sign that I had a chance.

Did I really think that I could hit a homerun in such a big ballpark? No. Not much confidence there. What I could do was put the ball into play though and give us a baserunner.

The next pitch came. A fastball a little too high, but it would do. I swung with speed and power, blasting the ball to left-center. I ditched the bat and immediately took off sprinting. I rounded first and headed for second. Just before hitting the base I saw my hit had gone off the wall in the opposite direction of the center fielder. I made the commitment and stepped on second base with power and rounded the bag.

"TO THREE!!"

"THREE!"

"Down Jake! Down!"

Everyone was yelling everywhere but my focus was on Mr. Miller. He gestured down at the base with both hands. When I figured I was close enough, I closed my eyes and made the dive, arms extended first.

"Oof." I grunted as my stomach ran into the base. Something hit me on the leg and I knew it was the ball. The third baseman must have gotten the ball cuz I felt a tag on me again.

"Safe."

"Yes, Jake!"

"That was so close from getting out of here!"

"He really did it!"

"Jake. Jake! JAKE!"

My name started to reverberate all around the stadium despite the stadium only being a few hundred people.

"You good, Jake?" Mr. Miller squatted to be closer to me.

I nodded and wiped some of the dirt off my face.

The umpire declared time out. I slowly got up and saw that the coach for Branham came out and went to the mound to meet with his infielders.

"What's happening?" I asked, dusting myself off.

"You put them in a difficult spot, kid." Mr. Milled put his arm around my shoulders. "My guess is, they change pitchers."

"So soon?" I frowned.

He glanced at me. "Lefties don't face third base. They need a righty to keep doing check throws this way. You better pay attention."

I turned to look at him. "Do I have to leave the bag?"

He blinked. Opened his mouth. Then closed it.

"Garret will drive me home without a problem." I stated.

Mr. Miller sincerely thought it through. He straightened up and let go of me. "Okay. You stay on the base all you want. If it's clearly a hit, go home. In the air, you'll be in perfect position to tag up and go home. If it's a grounder, stay where you are and we'll change it back to a lead with Brian up to bat."

My shoulders dropped with relief. "Yea."

Branham really went through the trouble of changing pitchers despite a lefty having an advantage against Garret. With no outs and me at third, there wasn't much they could do besides to face him head on.

The third baseman didn't talk as much as the first baseman. He stood at third with me, making me a little nervous, but I knew I was safe. I wasn't going to look like a fool as we tried to win this game.

I looked at the pitcher on the mound and found him looking at me. I froze. He frowned and stepped off the rubber. I kept a foot on third.

The pitcher looked to his catcher. After nodding, he stepped on the rubber again. He looked at me once more. I simply watched him too. He did his motion and threw towards home. Garret fouled the ball back.

"Alright, Garret!"

"You've got this!"

"C'mon MVP!"

"Go Garret!"

"Drive him home!"

All the chants started to sound off for Garret at the plate. He took the next pitch for a ball. 1-1. The pitcher was outright glaring my way.

"Too scared to step off?" The third baseman randomly spoke up. I didn't look at him.

The pitcher soon lost interest in me as his battle with Garret started to stretch out to a full count. Garret may have been tired on the mound, but it was a different story at the plate. He fouled off a few extra pitches before hitting the ball to center field. The outfielder came sprinting in and made a dive, but as soon as I saw that ball dribble away from him, I took off for home.

I stepped on home plate and the crown erupted. Our team stormed out of the dugout and raced to me at home and Garret at first. 4-3. CIF Division Three Champions of the northern section.

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