The Hitting Zone

Noah dragged me around the two-level store to look at everything that had anything to do with baseball. We started with equipment like he wanted; from gloves, bats, cleats, to training equipment that I've never seen before.

"Catch!" Noah was ten feet away and threw a bright orange ball at me.

I flinched and tried to avoid it, but it still hit me in the arm with a solid 'thunk', before falling to the ground. I rubbed my arm as I picked up the ball.

"Sorry, I didn't think you would just let it hit you." Noah stifled a laugh. "You okay?"

I nodded as I turned the ball over in my hands. It was shaped like a baseball, but was too soft, too heavy, and too orange to actually be considered as one. "What is this? A weighted ball?"

Noah nodded. "It's for training purposes. Mostly pitchers would use it to help with their velocity. Generally speaking, the faster a fastball is thrown, the harder it is to hit."

I thought about it..."But, I can hit a ball in 100's. Or at least foul it."

"A machine and a real person are different. A pitcher can vary their pitches from fastball, to curve, from 70mph to 90mph and so on." Noah said. "You won't always be able to get a hit. I still think you're amazing for not even striking out yet."

I gulped. I struck out in that nightmare. That was enough for me. I really don't want to do it again. Even if it wasn't real. "I rather groundout in every at bat than strike out once."

Noah laughed at my determination. "That's a great goal to have! I want to finish this season completely error-free."

"I-I-I already have an error." I stuttered. Besides official errors, I had what Zeke called 'mental errors.'

"You don't have to have the same goals as me." Noah smiled with ease. "Could you imagine if I said I wanted to never strike out again? I mean, it's a good goal to have, but it's not realistic for me. Everyone has their own personal goals and achievements. It wouldn't make sense if the twins wanted to aim for no strikeouts or no errors. Theirs would be more pitcher specific like a lot of strikeouts, a low ERA, a low WHIP, those kind of things."

"A whip..?" The first thing to come to mind was them pitching fast like throwing a whip.

"Just WHIP. It stands for walks plus hits per inning pitched. It's measures the average amount of baserunners a pitcher allows on per inning. Lower WHIP equals low amount of baserunners equals less runs scored which means good pitching."

Ugh. Pitching just has too much going on. I could never learn all these stats. Good thing I have Noah.

The ball in my hand started to feel heavy. "Should I put this back? Or did you want it?"

"Pshh. Why would I need that? My arm strength is perfect."

That's true. I lifted the ball up and down. "Do you think I should get it? My arm strength has gotten better, but it's not that good just yet."

Noah frowned, took the ball from my hand, and set it back on the shelf. "Silly. You're not a pitcher. Why worry about your velocity? Plus, you could injure yourself without the proper training." He picked up a bright yellow ball and tossed it to me. "This would be more beneficial, I believe."

I caught the bright yellow ball and found it familiar. It had bumps everywhere, making it uneven. "Isn't this the reaction ball?" I recalled the practice we used it.

"Yep. Exactly. As an infielder, you need to work on your agility and reaction speed." Noah held out his hand to ask for it back. I threw it to him and he backed up. "Okay. You ready?"

"Ready?" I looked around. We were in the middle of an aisle with people coming and going.

"I'm just going to roll it to you. You don't even need a glove to play with it. That's why it so convenient. You can just put it in your pocket and take it anywhere to practice." He pulled his arm back and underhanded the ball towards me.

The yellow ball bounced left, left, right, left, and I jumped at it. It went off my hand and down the aisle. I turned to chase it down, but I didn't have to go far. A young man bent down with perfect timing, easily catching it with his left hand. He stood back up and saw me looking at him.

"Were you playing with this?" He asked with a frown. "You know, they ask for customers not to play in the aisles. They have a specific area you can test equipment so you don't accidentally hurt someone." He continued to scold. "If I had accidentally slipped on this ball, how would you have taken responsibility? Your parents would have to ground you for life after I sue."

I started to shake as my anxiety skyrocketed.

"It was me." Noah jogged down the aisle to stand beside me. "I was the one to roll it down the aisle. We were just trying it out. No need to get so mad since you didn't even get hurt."

The young man didn't let up. "You don't know that. I could have pulled a back muscle from bending over."

Noah didn't give in. "That must mean you're out of shape. Not my problem."

His face twitched. He tossed the ball back to Noah. "Don't play in the aisle, kids. It's unsafe. You're lucky it was me this time and not some older gentleman. Or better yet, the store manager, who would have kicked you children out." He turned around and left us without looking back.

"What a punk." Noah muttered. "It's not like it was that big of a deal." He looked at me and asked, "Are you okay, Jake? He didn't scare you right? It was just a stupid lecture from a fellow teenager. Just think of him as one of the twins. Just thinks he's a know-it-all."

I gave him a tight, yet weak, smile. "I'm okay. You're right, he wasn't that mad. Just a concerned citizen."

Noah rolled his eyes. "Don't make him seem like the good guy."

I pointed at the ball in his hand. "But he was a good guy. He stopped the ball for me, and didn't yell at me, or hit me."

"That's just acting civilized. Normal people won't go around hitting and yelling at you." He handed me the reaction ball. "But...He was quick in his decision making. He made it look easy. He must play baseball too."

I nodded. That's a fair assumption. I looked at the ball in my hand. "I think I'll get this. I really do need to work on my fielding."

"Good!" Noah went back to check the shelf. "It's $15. What an expensive training tool. That's almost half your money."

I shrugged helplessly. "It's fine I guess. It's not like I need a glove, bat, cleats, or helmet. I'm satisfied with what I have."

Noah nodded, understanding. "Plus, the good stuff is all super expensive. Your used bat for example was a lot. Even my old cleats that you wear, were about $50." He looked around and spotted something in the distance. "Oh! I know! Let's go over there!" He dragged me away from the baseball equipment section.

I held the reaction ball in my hand, still remembering the way that guy smoothly picked it up without any trouble. I kind of didn't want to be an infielder since it came with so much trouble, but working on fielding grounders might make me want to stick with it.

Noah's destination was the athletic wear section for baseball. We passed by baseball pants, belts, plain t-shirts, long sleeves, and socks. He pulled me to a section that was specifically filled with professional teams baseball clothes. Most of it were the 'Oakland Athletics' and the 'San Francisco Giants.'

"It's because they're the local team so of course the store would have more of their items in stock." Noah explained. "We need to get you an A's shirt or something! That way you won't stick out when we start going to games to watch them play."