Soby: An Oath of Peace and War

47: Winterball Incidents

During the entire winter season, Bret decided to get back into playing another sport from when he was a kid—baseball. This decision was tough, as he didn't play last year and hasn't played in the previous few years.

For starters, he had just come into the sport with a high groin strain and groin-related injuries due to a blindside hit he received against Helix during a punt, for which the player who hit him got a flag for the hit. Payback was acquired for a short amount of time, that was.

Bret felt high hopes when the coach, who happens to be his English teacher, Mr. Sparks, coached the JV baseball team. Mr. Sparks also coached with his brother, whom he called "Sparks two point zero."

"Wait, Why am I two-point zero?" The coach inquired, confused, making the team laugh among themselves. 

After that Friday's practice, there was a game that Saturday. It's a Winterball game, which tests the players' abilities against another school. The scrimmage would happen with the weather being in effect earlier that week. Bret took this as a challenge to heart. He felt he had to make himself team worthy without a beloved pet to go home to. His emotions were limited to a few emotions; anger, seriousness, and love. 

With nothing left to spare, he went ahead with the practice, good swings, powerful defensive skills, and the usual skill enhancers. He felt a power rise above him. One that felt holy enough to feel better. The motivation was his key to making the team.

***

Top of the 7th, Bret goes up to the plate and has confidence, "Let's make something happen."

First pitch, fastball down the middle, "STRIKE!"

Bret stays in the box and continues to do what he does. Second pitch, fastball to the outside, "BALL!"

Bret sighs and carries on as the third pitch is another fastball down the middle, "STRIKE TWO!"

"Let it rip, Soby!" Coach Sparks yells from the third baseline.

"Let's do it." Bret growls from under his breath as he gets ready to swing. It doesn't click in his mind that he has to depend on it.

The fourth and final pitch of his at-bat kills his mood, another outside fastball he swings and misses. This angers him more than anything, killing any happiness inside him.

He walks into the dugout and throws his helmet and gloves on the ground, "Yeah, great idea swinging at something so damn bad."

***

The week after, they would play Helix for the next scrimmage, as Bret was doubtful. The scrimmage was also on his dad's birthday. He was doubtful like last time. He just wanted a swing and an attempt to make the team.

The at-bat was the worst it was. Looking at all strikes and didn't attempt to get the bat off his shoulder even once! Complaining the ball was too high on the last strike. He didn't think about it earlier. Until his dad's birthday, it was brought up. His dad's friends showed up, and his mom's sister did. As Bret was yelled at more and more about it, he defended that he wanted to swing but couldn't do it.

"You can't just stand in the box! Swing, god damn it!" Grant yelled at the defenseless boy.

"Give him a break, Grant. He's rusty! He's going to swing at some point." Joseph responded, "Besides, he'll swing, right?"

"The kid needs confidence." Grant sighed, "This guy got drafted out of high school by the Arizona Diamondbacks." Grant pointed to the guy behind him, "He will tell you what's up."

"Buddy, have confidence when you're up to bat." This man was Mario Knorr, a minor-league player, "Always have a plan. That way, you're going to know what you're doing."

***

Nothing couldn't have been worse by striking out on a curve ball. Bret froze and jogged into the dugout, exposing his emotion about the sport. Realizing his chance of making the team was slimming, making his low self-esteem downfall.

After the game, Bret called his dad, "Dad, the game's over."

"Okay, do you want me to come to get you?" Grant asked.

"No, I'll walk over." Bret sighed, "You're at Kennedy Park, right?"

"Yep, I'll see you then." Grant replies.

"Okay then, bye." Bret ends the call and degrades himself, "Play baseball, you told yourself. Make it worth your time when you can't even swing! All this work for nothing but failure."

He made it to the park, walking over a hill to where his dad was sitting, sighing as he attempted to try and pull his phone out of his back pocket. Frowning, he looked at his dad, "I saw your at-bat. You froze that curveball got there, didn't it?"

Bret nodded, "I've never seen a curveball until now."

"I know, it's tough. Curveballs are hard to hit." Shrugged Grant, "Besides, I know you better than that."

"Oh please, you think that?" Bret sighed, "Curveballs are a living nightmare!"

As the two walked towards the truck, Bret sighed and thought, "Am I failing myself as a player? Are my chances slimming due to my inability to make contact?"

On the drive home, Bret could only question himself: "No one is helping. I let go of myself from swinging and making contact to strikeouts looking."

***

During practice the week after, Bret stood around his teammates, stretching his right groin so he wouldn't need to hide a limp, per the doctor's orders. He couldn't stop thinking about Skye and how he felt about her attending the games. If she ever did, that was when he felt someone push him, not around but push him playfully, "The hell Jackson? I'm trying to stretch!"

"Oops, must've tripped," Jackson smirked.

"Little shit. He thinks that's funny. Should I rock him?" Bret thought, "Fuck it, now or never."

As the day went on, Bret never punched Jackson at all. His reluctance stopped him from even laying a hand on the freshman, showing his confidence was spiking. The other teammates have pushed Bret around, and the coaches haven't seen it as if Bret was a ghost.

When practice ended, they went into the dugout. Coach Sparks pulled the team aside and told them, "We have one final scrimmage before tryouts. We will be at home against Westview. This is the real test, okay? Those other scrimmages were just practice."

Everyone looked at each other and nodded, "Let's get out of here. I'll see you all tomorrow."

Jared looked at Soby, "Call it, yeah?"

Bret nodded, "EAGLES ON ME! EAGLES ON THREE!"

Everyone chimed in, "ONE! TWO! THREE! EAGLES!"

"WOO!" Dom yelled excitedly, "Let's kick some ass tomorrow!"

"Nothing will stop me from getting on base tomorrow either." Bret prayed to himself.