The Hitting Zone

Mr. Atkins knew exactly where to go and led us with confidence. The twins followed right behind him, then me and Noah, then Mrs. Atkins and Zeke.

"You really shouldn't give your father such a hard time, Zeke. He's just looking out for you." Mrs. Atkins spoke to Zeke in a light, but serious tone. "Injuries aren't something you can just brush off, especially if you want to play at the next level."

"I know, Mom." Zeke replied.

"If you know, then why did you argue? Now I've gotta get checked too." Noah grumbled.

"It's probably best if you get checked too, no matter what." Mrs. Atkins said from behind. "Getting injured while you're still young and growing can affect your growth in a negative way."

"Like me."

No one said anything.

I kept my eyes on my feet. "You shouldn't hide injuries or they'll only get worse."

Noah practically jumped on me and pulled my into a hug. "My poor baby brother. Forever going to five feet tall."

His joke brought a laugh out of me as I pushed him away. "I'll grow soon! I'm all better now." I peeked back at Zeke. "It doesn't hurt just to make sure you're okay."

Zeke clenched his jaw.

I don't think that's a good sign. He's very against getting checked out so there must be something seriously wrong and he knows it. I sighed and glanced at Noah. He was still jumping about and was moving as freely as ever. He didn't look like he was hiding any kind of pain. Then again, I couldn't tell Zeke was hurting until Noah said something and I didn't really believe it until Mr. Atkins said something.

Mr. Atkins stopped in front of the informational booth to speak with someone in charge. That person, in turn, led the seven us to some chairs and table in the back where it was a bit more private.

The person faced us as he patted the table. "Hop up here if you were the one that got hit by a pitch. Everyone else can just take a step back so I can have some space to examine the player."

The adults, the twins, and myself all took a few steps back, making it clear who the patients were. Zeke and Noah stared at one another, before Noah caved. He dropped his bag on the ground and got up on the table.

"And where were you hit?" The man asked as he got a little closer to Noah.

"Just above the left knee, on the quad." Noah patted the body part in question.

"Ok, sit up straight and let your legs hang over the table edge so they can dangle there." The man instructed. After Noah got in the directed position, the man took hold of his left foot and start to wiggle it. "Any pain?" Noah shook his head. The man then extended the leg, then bent it at the knee, then extended it, and then bent it. "Any knee trouble?"

"Nope. No radiating pain at all." Noah answered.

The man nodded, but kept moving Noah's leg around like he was trying to catch him in a lie. He had Noah lie down, move his leg around, then stand up and move his leg around. By the time he confirmed that it was just a bruise, I was yawning, wishing I could take a nap.

The man brought out a bag of ice, put it on the bruised area, and taped it over his pants. "You can take that off in twenty minutes. It might be uncomfortable now, but your bruise won't hurt tomorrow during the game."

"Thanks!" Noah hopped off the table and wobbled over to me. "For a tournament trainer, he's very thorough." He stated.

I nodded in agreement and then we watched as it was Zeke's turn. Zeke had set his bag down and started to get on the table, but the trainer held him back.

"First, untuck your shirt." He asked after he found out that Zeke was hit in the lower back. Zeke untucked his jersey and undershirt. He then lifted his clothes to reveal his lower back. Everyone sucked in air at the sight of a black and blue blob on Zeke's lower back.

"Damnnnnn." The twins said in unison.

"Language." Mrs. Atkins warned sternly. She worriedly looked between Zeke and her husband. "Did you know it would look this bad?"

Mr. Atkins let out a sigh. "I didn't know what it would look like. I just knew he was moving differently than normal."

Noah nodded. "I thought he was moving funny. Especially when he would throw the ball to me."

As they spoke, the trainer was keeping Zeke busy with stretching like touching his toes, reaching for the sky, and turning only at the waist.

"I'm going to need you to tell me if a certain movement hurts you." The trainer paused in his assessment. "I can't just base a conclusion off your tensing up or making a face at me. You need to be vocal about what's hurting you."

Zeke looked over at his dad. Mr. Atkins frowned and crossed his arms over his chest, not giving an inch. Zeke sighed and nodded.

"It especially hurts to twist." Zeke spoke up, finally admitting that something was hurting. "Touching my toes and reaching isn't too big of a deal, but relaxing hurts too."

The trainer had him do more movements. Then he had him lay on the table and 'move this way' and 'move that way' and so forth. His exam took a lot longer than Noah's. At the end of the thirty minutes, he taped an ice bag to Zeke's back and gave the same instructions, but he didn't stop there.

"You need to take a couple days off from baseball. I'm not suggesting you just lay in bed all day. Keep up with normal daily activities. I also would suggest you ice for twenty minutes every two hours or so. And while you're not icing, keep it compressed with some wrap or brace."

Zeke stood up. "Just icing it is fine. Thanks."

"Hold it right there, young man." Mrs. Atkins jumped in, holding her hand up in front of Zeke. She faced the trainer. "Sir, is it not just a bruise? Why so much precaution?"

"I believe your son has a moderate contusion to his lower back." The trainer leaned against the table. "Contusion is just the medical term for a bruise. Most people think of a bruise as a black-and-blue spot. This happens when small blood vessels get torn and leak blood under the skin. But bones, muscles, and organs can also get bruised. After taking a hard hit like that, he should have been icing right away and maybe he could have played tomorrow."

"But he's icing it right now...won't it be better by tomorrow?" Kyle interrupted.

"No, because with constant movement like throwing and swinging the bat, he aggravated the contusion to the muscle. It's important to ice a contusion immediately because it'll alleviate pain right away and it'll prevent further swelling." The trainer responded to Kyle. Then he looked at Zeke. "I recommend you sit for a week. If you still feel any pain whatsoever, see your family doctor just in case."

Zeke frowned. "Thanks for your advice and examination, but I'll be playing in my game tomorrow."

The trainer sighed and shrugged. "I've done my part. If you have any questions, or any other problems that pop up, I'll be here." He walked away, back to help others.

"You won't be playing tomorrow." Mr. Atkins spoke clearly. "Take a week off."

Zeke's frown was starting too look permanent. "I can't, Dad. Tomorrow is too important. We're playing University Prep. It's already going to be a tough game."

"My words are final, Zeke." Mr. Atkins stayed firm. "You're the captain. You should know better than anybody, that playing with an injury will only hurt the team in the long run. Miss a week or end up missing tournament play at the end of the season when it really matters. I'll let you choose."

Zeke froze. Then sighed, his stance deflating with him. He slouched for only a second before his back pain acted up, making him stand normally. Another sigh. "I'll call coach."

I looked at Noah, eyes wide. We're really going to play a game without Zeke..?