An Unlikely Slugger: The story of Cole Bassitt

Chapter 8: Kairo Ybañez

Immediately after hitting the pillow, I conk out and start dreaming.

*(-lovely dream sequence-)*

It's my final game of my college career. I step up to the plate. "Now batting, a sophomore, catcher, number 15, Cole Bassitt." I dig into the box. Some scouts are here, wearing shirts from different teams. I see the Sandusky Land Sharks, the Ozark Cyclones, and others, but what stands out to me is the scout in the Indy Fire cap. The number one team in the league, you were God for a game if the Fire scouts were there for you. I was hitting in the 2-hole, and it was tied 3-3. The pitcher, Anderson Diop, fired a curve. I swung the bat. CRACK! The ball soars towards the scoreboard. Our home crowd roars. I drop the bat, undo my leg guard, and unleash an aggressively elated roar.

"GRRAAAAAAH!"

The ball seems to pierce the clouds as me and Kellen round the bases.

As I stomp on home, the coach slaps my hand, only to let out an air-horn like shriek. Hey, I don't remember this! Everyone in the vicinity is letting out an ear-piercing shriek. Unsettled, I pop awake.

Ty Birching, Drake, and Kellen, who I identified as the culprit due to the air-horn in his hands, all explode with laughter.

"Real funny, fellas." 

"You're late for the team meeting. We're bussing to Lansing today." Good to know. I pop on my jacket and jeans and head down to the hotel lobby. Most of the team is there, excluding Martin and Jaxton. I see Xander Dumas and Zander Salmon treading down the stairs. "Martin can't make it today," Xander broke news to us. "He has some, erm, 'special' stuff to do." Zander and Xander snickered like the idiots they are. Coach, looking rather somber but cheery nonetheless, was standing next to a dark skinned, timid looking fellow. He was maybe 5'11, with a stocky build and black hair draping his circular head. He had a Warren #28 jacket on. Something's going on.

"Gentlemen, I have bad news and good news. First, we got reports back on Jae. He won't be with us for the remainder of the playoffs. Cole, you'll be taking his place."

We all groan. I groan the loudest.

"On the other hand, I'd like to be the first to welcome our new teammate, Kairo Ybañez. He'll be backing up Cole as catcher while Jae's out." He motions to Kairo.

"Hi, Kairo." We all say at the same time. Kairo nervously waves his hand.

"He doesn't speak English," Coach continues. "Does anybody here speak Spanish?" Kai proudly raises his hand, before speaking unintelligible Spanish. Kairo cocks his head. Kai's eyes widen as he covers his mouth, before speaking more Spanish, sounding apologetic. Kairo laughs. Looks like he's made a new friend.

We all file on the bus. I sit with Drake, and across from Kai and Kairo, who have now been chatting like old friends. "Can I try chatting with him, with you translating?" I ask. Kai nods.

"Hello, Kairo."

Kai speaks to Kairo, who speaks back.

"He says it's nice to meet you."

"Tell him that my name's Cole."

"He says that he hopes you don't get hurt like he does, because he doesn't want to start here!"

I laugh. "Tell him I was thinking that with Jae."

Kairo chuckles. The rest of the 30-minute bus ride is uneventful, I manage to squeeze no words out of Drake, and Jaxton's too busy carving his initials in what seems to be either the bus seat or Cadmon's thigh, given the way he's wincing. Bryan Stackhouse, who I've made friends with over the years, looks back and talks to me once we are near.

"I heard these guys have a 7 foot third baseman!" "I call bullshenanigans on that one, B."

I look out the window to see, speak o' the devil, a third baseman that's so tall, he has to duck whenever he enters the dugout.

"I think his name's Gareth Bennet."

"Woah. That guy IS huge." Bryan and I watch agape as Bennet swings his bat like a toothpick, nearly hitting our bus as it passed by the Lansing Baseball Complex practice field A. We were scheduled for field B today at 6.

The bus arrived at the complex hotel, where we drew straws to pick roomates. We let Kairo pick his straw first. I got the longest straw, which constituted a slap on the back from DJ, and the first dibs at roomates. I chose Kellen, of course. We exchanged high-fives and were given our room key. I gripped a luggage cart and stacked our suitcases and bat bags on it. Braxton got the next pick, and selected Corey Bertram to be his roomate. Braxton and Corey put their luggage on the rack. Kai and DJ, Tate, and Ira. Jaxton and Martin were on my floor too. Ugh.

I pushed the luggage rack into the elevator with Kellen, Braxton, Corey, Kai, DJ, Jaxton, and Martin all cramming in. The elevator, slowly but surely, plugged up a few floors to our room. Once we got up to our room, Kellen dove onto the nearest bed. I grabbed the remote and flicked it to a boxing match. Upon consideration, I saw that my brother Everett was boxing! Everett was short for his childhood, but grew to be 6 foot 6 and extremely muscular. His shaggy blonde hair whipped from side to side as he slammed his fists into an opponent. I rooted Everett on as he knocked down the opponent. He's down for the count! I cheered, but quietly, as Corey tended to take naps before practice sessions. 5:30 struck, and Kellen and I slipped into our practice jerseys. We checked for everything in our bags and walked downstairs to the commons, where we popped our bags on the bus and boarded. When we got there, I walked out first, lugging my bag on my back. I was greeted by a lanky dude with jet black hair wearing a number 18.
"Sup, losers? Ready to get totally thumped on Wednesday?

"Shut up."

I tuned him out and walked off. I didn't like that guy already. Kairo and I suited up in our gear. Kairo still had his helmet from our triple-A league squad, with the Shelbyville Cougars logo on the back. We took infield.
"Alright, boys! Scrimmage time! Salmon on the mound, Bassitt behind the plate, Dumas at first, Kordes, second, Bullock, short, Barranda third, Caldwell in left, Brantley in center, and Crawford in right. Sipe, Gentry, Ybañez, and Short, go to hit, and pitchers come with me!" I teamed up with the other fielders, flipping our jerseys to the blue side. Tate stepped into the box. We waited until the pitchers jogged off to the bullpen, before Zander dealt the first pitch. Tate creamed it to Kai, who dove for it but couldn't nab it. We practiced for 2 hours till sundown, switching batters in and out. I came up last.

"Last hitter, then let's all go home!" Coach called. I stepped in and sized up the situation. Kai was on first, a quick runner. Elliot was playing second, making it a weak link. Drake was especially alert, and Braxton was too, making opening up my swing a no-go. Cadmon was distracted in center field and Crawford was having a rough day in right. Perfect. Eden Greer sizzled a heater. I stepped towards the plate and sliced it into right-center field. Cadmon, startled, began running for it, unwisely calling Isaias off. I sighed. It would be good for a double, but that was OUR TEAM's fielding. That would be an opponent's double that Eden gave up. That would be a run against our side. Bad.