The next day we started the school routine once more. It followed the sa pace as the previous week so I really felt like I was settling in. It wasn’t until practice that sothing new happened.
"I’m Julian Wilson." A tall teen with broad shoulders stood before and Noah as we finished warmups.
The na sounded familiar, yet I couldn’t rember why.
"Julian usually starts at first base." Noah told ; then faced Julian. "Did Zeke send you over to go over plays with Jake?"
He nodded. "We’ll have to coordinate well."
I pointed at Drew, the trainer, who seed to be waiting for with the ladders all set out. He saw pointing at him and waved. So deceitful, trying to act friendly before he goes back to torturing .
"You can go with him first." Julian sounded llow, like he was one to just go with the flow. He started to walk back to the group, but I reached out and grabbed the back of his jersey. He turned back to us and I dropped my hand. "What is it?"
Noah cleared his throat. "Jake wants to go over the plays now since he feels insecure about it."
"You sure it doesn’t have anything to do with him not wanting to work out with Drew?" He replied lazily.
I tugged my cap down to hide my guilt.
"It’s also true that he’s insecure though." Noah defended. "Zeke bullied us all day Saturday, going over situational plays. Could you imagine? I think he would feel better if Zeke wasn’t supervising since that would be added stress."
I nodded. Noah had a way with words.
"Okay, but you’ll have to go join the group in team drills." Julian acquiesced. "I’ll take Jake in the infield to go through so visualization. I’m sure Zeke will test us still, but it’s always better to be prepared when he’s the proctor."
Noah patted my shoulder. "You’re in good hands. I trust Julian will help you out a lot so no need to be anxious around him." He gave a reassuring smile before running off to join the team and coaches.
Julian led to the infield and we stood near first base. "This base gets the most action. Anyti the ball is put into play, soone should be here to cover. Even if it’s a long hit to the outfield. Do you know why?"
I frowned. To hold them at first base would be my first guess, but he wouldn’t want such a simple answer.
"It’s because of errors. Running errors." He explained. "Say we the other team gets a hit to the outfield. A base runner is trying to score from second. He’s quick and makes it ho as we bring the ball back to the dirt. But maybe, just maybe, the hitter thought we would make a useless throw ho so he started to move to second. Now with soone at first, we can try and catch them in a pickle."
What... I raised my hand slowly.
He raised an eyebrow. "Do you have a question?"
I nodded. "Pickle?"
He cracked a smile. "I didn’t think the first word I would hear from you would be pickle. Not even a simple hi, bye or how are you. But just pickle." He gave out a laugh. "I forget that you’re still new to baseball. A pickle is also called a rundown, which occurs when the baserunner is stranded between two bases. I’ll remind Zeke to have us try a few before the week is up."
I sighed, filled with depression at the thought.
Julian patted my head, pushing my hat down. "There’s a lot to learn. Even for . Baseball is always evolving and there’s a million different things that could happen. Even professionals can be caught off guard, or make errors, and there’s always a loser. So don’t act too depressed."
Julian’s words brought comfort and really put at ease. I tried to make a ntal note to look at pros making errors on the web later tonight.
"Now let’s get back to work. Drew looks ready to snatch you at any minute." He continued.
I snuck a glance at Drew and he really did look upset. Oh man, I’m scared to find out what’s waiting for over there. I swallowed hard and tried to remain focused on what Julian was trying to teach .
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