"What position is he trying out for?" A bulky teen with thick black hair spoke up, his expression not seeming too impressed.
"Pitcher." Coach Wyatt replied simply.
At these words, another teen in the crowd paled briefly.
"Coach, I think Brett is already a good pitcher. Why would we try to replace him?" The black-haired teen from earlier spoke up, placing his hand on his friends shoulder.
"Max… I know you're the Captain and you need to look out for your guys, but this is not your decision. Remember, in both College and the Major League, only the best players will be played, your feelings don't matter." Coach Wyatt said, spreading his knowledge.
Though a bit harsh, his reasoning was sound. If they likened a baseball club to a business, it made sense to only hire the best employees, benching those who don't perform.
As if noticing his sharp tone, the coach let out a small sigh and spoke up once more, this time a little softer. "Look, we're gonna have this tryout today no matter what. How about I let you guys decide if he's worthy of joining the team?"
"What?"
"He's gonna let us choose?"
Instantly, the players began whispering amongst themselves. They looked at the Coach with a hint of suspicion, it seemed too good to be true.
If they wanted to keep Brett as their starting pitcher, they could all just turn around and make up some excuse that the guy wasn't good enough. After that, there was nothing that the coach could do to reverse the decision.
Brett's eyes lit up at this proposition, feeling that he had a shot. After all, he'd been part of the organization since he was 14 years of age.
"So? What do you say?" Coach Wyatt asked, his mustache curled into a small grin.
Of course he was aware of what the teens were thinking. But he bet that once they saw the new recruit in action, none of them would be able to reject him.
Everybody looked to Max, the Captain, as if telling him to accept.
Max felt that something was a little off, but he eventually nodded, "Alright Coach, we accept." He stated confidently.
"Excellent!" The Coach exclaimed before making a move towards the locker room.
However, he stopped in place and turned back around, "By the way, the better we do in the tournament, the more exposure we'll have to College Scouts." He stated off-handedly before continuing on his way.
These words seemed to stir a sense of excitement within the players. The words "College Scouts" was enough for them to endlessly dream about making it big in the future.
At their age, college was only a year or so away. The more exposure they had, the better their chances of entering a good college on a scholarship.
The only person who felt a sense of unease right now was Brett. At first he felt a strong camaraderie with his teammates. Though it was not said outright, he believed that the team would have his back and not let the new guy in regardless of his performance.
Yet with only a few words from the wily coach, he was not so sure anymore.
A few minutes later, Ken and Steve came out of the locker room. Steve was already wearing his chest protector and had his mask in hand.
Ken was wearing the same clothes, but now he sported a cap with the Gladiators logo on it. He had pitched all his life with a baseball cap on, so he felt really odd not wearing one.
Thankfully, Steve offered his own.
'Eh!?'
Ken almost froze as he felt an abundance of stares directed his way. If earlier they were curious gazes, now they seemed to be filled with something more, something he couldn't put his finger on.
"Alright, head up to the mound and get your arm warmed up." Coach Wyatt said, sending him a smile.
"Yes coach." Ken responded, jogging on his way to the mound.
Upon arriving, he went through his dynamic warm ups, rolling his shoulders back and forth and limbering them up.
To be honest, he was feeling a little nervous. It wasn't just because of the gazes directed his way, but because he had yet to pitch his new form with the system. Hell, he hadn't even had time to check his stats or anything just yet.
With so many eyes on him, watching his every move, Ken didn't feel comfortable bringing up his status window, fearing that people might think he was crazy with all the hand gestures needed.
'Wait! Mika, are you there?' Ken asked. He had completely forgotten about his AI friend who he hadn't spoken to in over a year.
[Hmph…]
'Oh crap, she's mad.' Ken thought, his face paling.
"He looks like a nervous wreck. You shouldn't have anything to worry about Brett." Max said to his friend after seeing Ken's actions.
However, Max's gaze moved to the coach who seemed to be so confident. He just couldn't understand why the coach had so much faith in this guy.
'Look Mika, I'm sorry I didn't call out to you right away…' Ken tried to sweet talk her, but it was clear she wasn't having any of it.
[Activating Flatulence protocol…]
'NO!'
Ken almost jumped in fright, placing his glove behind his rear in hopes that it would at least muffle the sound.
[Just kidding…]
Hearing the monotonous voice say these words, Ken was dumbstruck. His AI was making jokes? Was this a new feature of the system upgrade?
If that was the case then he would rather not have it.
"Ken? Are you ready to warm up?" Steve asked, looking a little concerned.
"Ah, yes sorry." Ken replied, feeling flustered.
Ken began his warm up throws, easily sending the ball into Steve's outstretched glove. As usual, he took around 10 throws to warm up his muscles.
"Last one." He called out, holding the ball in his glove.
Ken's eyes narrowed as he brought his leg up and took a big stride off the mound.
PAH