The Pitcher's Act

29

COLBY

I have never felt so shitty in my entire life. I haven't slept in two days. I couldn't fall asleep because I thought about her, wishing she was next to me every second. Sleeping alone after getting used to having someone next to you is hard. Especially when it's Olivia. She always wraps herself around me and doesn't let go until she wakes up the next morning.

I won't lie. I was devastated when she didn't want to talk last night. I am so ready to explain everything to her. I'm ready to shout it from the rooftops if it's the only way to get her to listen to me.

I never realized how badly I wanted her. I'm going to be sure she knows it.

I was preparing to throw for the season's first game versus Akron University. It was only a scrimmage; our actual season began the next semester.

It was getting real. I only had one semester until I graduated. Who the hell knows what will happen next? All I know is that it better involve signing with a major league team.

With the home team advantage, my team and I were pitching first. I wait for the queue of POWER by Kanye West to blast on the speakers before I begin to loosen up on the mound. It's been my walk-out song since freshman year. I think the song has done me a lot of good. I basically start to dance to the beat when I hear it.

Do it better than anybody you've ever seen do it. I begin throwing my warm-up pitches to the catcher. I almost feel self-conscious as the crowd grows in the stands, people pouring in in every direction.

I scan the stadium for any familiar faces but come up short. The only ones I notice are the softball girls who have claimed the front row of the stands for themselves.

I throw the last warm-up pitch, a breaking ball, harder than the ones before. Willy better get used to it for today. I have a lot of built-up emotions I need to release.

The first batter walks up to the plate. He was a huge guy, topping at least six foot seven. He had been the lead-off hitter for the past two years now.

I throw the first pitch, a breaking ball, as the batter swings and misses. I let out a breath I didn't know I was holding. The first pitch is over. Keep it up. I throw the second one a little low, and it hits the dirt.

Willy calls for a fastball on the third. I huff, not wanting to throw one down the middle already. He demands it again, and I want to roll my eyes. Fastball it is. I knew I'd regret it the moment the ball left my hands and the batter hit it straight down the middle into the outfield. It lands in the grass, nowhere near where our outfielders stood. Shit.

I shake it off. It's fine. It's whatever.

The next batter comes up, and Willy calls for another fastball. This fucker. I swear. I throw it anyway, the hitter immediately making contact with his bat and sending it up in the air and down into the right fielder's glove.

First out.

The first guy is still on first, eager to move. Willy tells me to throw to first and try to catch him. I quickly turned, throwing to first, but the fucker, Jagger, wasn't paying attention and let the ball slip past him. I curse. He books it to second as Jagger quickly picks the ball up and throws it to Bryce on second.

Fuck.

I'm going to smack Jagger upside his head after this inning.

The guys in the Akron dugout were cheering. I wanted to wipe the smile off all their faces.

Focus, Jones.

I throw my next pitch hard into Willy's hand, giving him the fastball he wanted. I'd like to know the speed on that one.