Nico's eyes lit up, his body roaring into action.
WHOOOSH
DING
The ball shot along the ground with speed, heading into the gap between first and second base. Nico quickly discarded his bat and ran towards first base, safely arriving as the outfielder collected the ball.
"Nice hit Nico!"
On the mound, Alex clicked his tongue in annoyance. "Lucky hit." He muttered, kicking the dirt on the mound as he turned back around. It seemed that getting hit in the first at-bat had wounded his pride.
Nico on the other hand looked pleased as punch as he stood upon first base.
Unbenknownst to anyone, there were a couple of scouts in the audience right now, their attention on the pitcher. Despite his pitch getting hit, they didn't seem too affected with some taking notes and others watching Alex's reactions.
Having your pitches hit in any level of competition was part of the job. However, it was how one recovered after being hit that these scouts were focused on.
As if knowing their thought process, Alex proceeded to pitch wonderfully in the next at-bat. Latrell swung three times, missing every time, leading to the out.
"Don't mind Latrell." Ken said as the guy walked past him.
"Mmm, hit it big for me." The guy said, flashing him a smile.
"Let's go Ken!"
"Hit us a homer!"
The Gladiators seemed to light up as Ken went up to bat, their voices rising as they shouted out words of encouragement. Even Coach Wyatt paid close attention, his eyes wide in anticipation.
As Ken walked up to the batters box, his eyes moved to Nico who had a lead on first base. His eyes were almost screaming at him, like he wanted to steal a base.
But Ken shook his head, gesturing for the guy to stay put. In his mind, there was no point in stealing a base, not when he planned on sending the ball out of the field.
"Heh, good idea sending your runner back. He would have been an easy out if he tried." The catcher said behind Ken, his voice filled with haughtiness.
Ken ignored him, going through his pre-hit ritual. He tapped the plate and toe of his cleats with the bat before getting into position. Due to his height, the bat was elevated, hanging like an executioners blade ready to reap the life of the ball.
Seeing that he was ignored, the catcher's face fell. However, in the next moment a grin crept onto his features as he called for the next ball. He held the glove close to Ken's chest, asking for an inside fastball.
Alex merely nodded, scratching his nose before getting into position. He briefly looked at 3rd base before skipping forward with his lead leg and sending the ball flying towards the spot.
Ken's eyes narrowed as he saw the ball's trajectory. It only took a few moments to understand what was happening.
With the reflexes of a cat, he leaned backwards, the ball barely missing his chest and entering the glove of the catcher.
PAH
"Ball."
Ken looked at the catcher who was snickering to himself. It seemed that he was quite pleased with how the first pitch had turned out.
Without a word, Ken stepped back into the batters box with an unreadable expression. His poker face skill was activated, but inwardly he had already sentenced the guy to death.
His gaze locked onto Alex on the mound, waiting for the next pitch. As long as the next pitch was remotely close to the strike zone, Ken would swing for the fences.
The guy picked up the rosin bag and swished it around a few times in his hand, causing some white dust to fly into the air. He dropped it a few moments later, and let out a deep breath.
Once again he looked towards 3rd base briefly before shooting into action. The pitching motion was rather brilliant, efficiently making use of his larger body to squeeze out the maximum velocity without putting pressure on his joints.
If this was another time, Ken might appreciate the pitching form. However, there was only one thing on his mind in this moment.
Ken's muscles rippled as he planted his front foot and twisted his body. Starting from his base, the power traveled upwards, amplified by the torque of his movements. The air displacement from his metal bat created an almighty noise, like the thunders of a typhoon.
WHOOOOOSH
DOOOONG!
The ball was hit cleanly with the center of the bat, creating a metallic whine that seemed to echo loudly in everyone's ears. It was so loud that even the spectators on the other fields could hear it clearly.
Ken watched as the ball flew into the outfield, soaring above the heads of the fielders and slowly disappearing into the horizon. He then turned to the catcher briefly, as if to see what kind of expression the guy would make.
After a moment, he let out a small scoff and placed the bat down gently before embarking on his victory lap around the bases.
"Y—YEAH KEN!"
Steve shot up out of his seat, cheering with all of his might. He had seen the interaction with the catcher and stifled a laugh, as a catcher himself, he almost felt sorry for the guy… Almost.
Steve's shout snapped the audience members out of their reverie. They had been too shocked at the ridiculous home run that they had forgotten to clap and cheer for the amazing play.
The few scouts in the audience were gobsmacked, their eyes glued onto the tall figure now casually jogging around the bases. Yet a few moments later they were all digging through their files, as if to find out who this person was.
A figure which looked out of breath arrived next to the field, carrying his bag. The moment he laid eyes on the field and saw Ken running around the bases he cursed.
"Damn, I missed it." He said, rubbing his face in annoyance.