"I don't know anything about first base." I complained to Noah as we lined up like the coach instructed. Everyone was going to take turns fielding at first and even making catches from across the diamond.
"It's just like playing second." Noah brushed off. "Field ball, tag base. No ball, go to base. Don't take it too hard if it's not perfect. This isn't your ideal spot anyways."
The line went quick as everyone got three attempts. A ground ball would be hit down the line. Scoop it up and tag first. A pop fly would just barely go over the player's head so either turn and run or jog it backwards. I prayed for an easy one. The third would be running over to first to cover and wait to receive a baseball from sowhere else. I didn't worry about that at first, but when I started to see the throws that would co in, I wanted to hit the skip button. It was bad throws, making a first baseman do a full body stretch to dig the ball out.
Noah noticed it too. He patted on the shoulder. "Okay, two out of three. You can do a grounder, no problem. Pop flies, easy peasy."
I took my glove off to wipe my sweaty hands. We haven't even really started yet and I was stressing. I didn't even feel better when I saw others making errors. It just made feel even more unsure. Like if they can't get it, what makes think I can get it.
"Hey, whatever happens, it's not going to be the end of the world." Noah told as it got closer and closer to being our turn. "You can make it up later with your bat. For every mistake you think you made, try to hit a ho run afterwards."
"Yea." I nodded.
Soon it was Noah's turn. His number was called out as he got into position. First up, the hard hit grounder down the line. He scooped it up in one fluid motion and sprinted to first base, making it look easy. He got back into position and so guy hit a pop fly over Noah's head. It looked to be a tough one, but nothings too tough for Noah to field. He turned and sprinted back, looking over his shoulder, he made the catch in the short outfield grass. A few of the guys started to talk about the nice play.
Noah set up as a first baseman again, solely focus on the coach with a bat in hand. The coach hit a grounder to the left. A guy fielded the ball and intentionally threw horribly towards first as Noah set up, foot on the bag. Noah stretched out and dug the ball out after a bounce. He straightened up and tossed the ball back.
My turn. I took a deep breath and got out there as my number was called out. I stood where all the footprints were. Sowhat helpful. First up, the grounder. The guy with the bat hit one down the line like he was supposed to. It was easy to deal with since my glove was on the left hand. I secured the ball and sprinted to tag first.
"Good job!" Noah clapped.
I felt more embarrassed since he was the only one cheering. This was a competition. These other guys probably didn't want to do well.
I threw the ball back and got into position again. My pop fly was much easier to deal with than Noah's, easing a lot of my tension. I just had to take three steps back and make the catch. Now ca for the tough part...positioning to catch a throw to first. I took a deep breath and let it out slowly as I got set. The guy hit the ball to the left and I sprinted to first. I put my right foot on the bag and held up my glove. The expected bad throw ca, bouncing twice before bouncing off the edge of my glove.
"Next!"
I sighed and walked out of the way.
"Okay, okay. Keep your head up." Noah threw his arm around my shoulders. "What can you be sad about? That was to be expected."
I rolled my eyes and got away from him. "Can't I be upset that I didn't get it? That was probably the easiest miss of the day."
"Who cares?" Noah kept the smile on. "Next up is second base. You play that all the ti. We've worked extra hard on turning double plays. It'll all balance out."
"It's just embarrassing." I lowered my voice and used my eyes to hint at Noah at the other guys. "I bet all of them are happy that I ssed up. It's like they're laughing at ." I frowned as my stomach churned. My hands went to my stomach. "I think I might be sick."
Noah dropped the smile and got serious. "Jake, I assure you, most of the guys here are worried about themselves. Just like you and just like . We're all focused on doing our best. Too focused to care about what soone else does. Good or bad." He held my shoulder and looked in the eyes. "It's not even like you absolutely want to play on this team anyways so who cares if you make it or not, right?"
My lips twisted and I pointed at him. "You care. You've been saying it for the last month."
That made Noah pause. He took a step back and took off his hat. "Well, I guess it's because I'm not so sure of myself. I feel pressure knowing that you're the best batter. Like ever. This team will no doubt make room for you when they see you in the batting drills. For though...I don't stand out. So knowing that you'll make it, I feel like I've got to hype myself up to do extrely well so I can try to make it too."
I felt a little sad. I was dragging down Noah's mood on tryout day. "Sorry."
"Hey, don't apologize!" Noah put the smile back on. "I'm okay! I've been playing catch-up my whole life. So I'm used to it. You just have to hold yourself up and play like normal. Stop the stressing and treat it like practice. A practice where Zeke will make you run a lap for every mistake you make." He joked. "But then you have a chance for redemption at the hitting stations. I believe in you, man. You're the best hitter I know and that's all you need to be able to make this team."
I nodded. "Okay." My stomach was settling and I felt less anxious. I had the tendency to overthink and worry about the future when I don't know how things will play out. The chance of making the team or not. With Noah or not. Neither of those things could happen in the next week so I should put it off. I can worry when that mont gets here. Just like trying to decide between college and entering the draft to beco a pro.
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