Ken sat down on the bench and let out a small sigh. Glancing at the scoreboard, neither team had been able to score in the first 3 innings. As he had expected, the Dodgers were going after his fastballs.
Even with this knowledge, Steve had carefully called for pitches that would not make it obvious that they knew about the tactic. While this was all well and good, Ken couldn't help but feel a little stifled.
'Kind of feels like they're underestimating me…' He thought.
However, he had dug his own hole in this regard. After analyzing his previous games, it would be obvious at first glance that 90% of his fastballs were thrown in the strike zone. If one could time the blistering speed, it should be simple to hit the pitches.
"Why are you so gloomy?" Steve asked, sending him an incredulous look.
"No reason." Ken lied, sitting back and getting comfortable.
Steve couldn't help but grin, "You really are a prideful person…" He said with a chuckle. To him it was obvious that Ken was not used to pitching in such a way, usually choosing to blast through the opponent.
While this might be fine against the lower end of the competition, Steve knew better. Despite his seemingly whimsical attitude to training, there was a reason why he chose to become a catcher.
Ken frowned at him, but seeing the knowing look on the guy's face, he couldn't help but feel a smile tugging at the corner of his lips. "I guess you're right." He replied in amusement.
Steve shook his head in exasperation, "Look man, your pitches are good, great even. But there's more to pitching than just throwing the ball fast and accurately."
"Oho? You're sounding like a real catcher now…"
"Well, it's my job right? All you need to do is focus on accurately following my leads, and I'll do the rest of the leg work." Steve replied, sending him a thumbs up.
Ken raised an eyebrow, "And what's got you so motivated?"
"Hehe, they dare to underestimate my pitcher? Of course I'll fight back." He said matter-of-factly.
"Mmm. But if you make me give up a home run, I'll add 50 more modified burpees to your training schedule." Ken replied, patting his friend on the shoulder.
Steve paled, but he doubled down, "Make it 100!"
"Strikeout!"
Steve's voice was drowned out by the umpires call from the field, prompting Ken to stand up from the bench. He turned to his friend and grinned, "It's a deal. I'll go get us some runs first."
"Alright alright, good luck~"
Ken let out a chuckle, grabbing his helmet and bat nearby. It was all well and good preventing the other team from scoring, but the game would drag on if they weren't able to get any runs on the board.
Stretching his limbs, Ken casually walked out onto the field and practiced his swing a couple of times. He sent a perfunctory consolation to Nico who was heading back to the bench after being struck out before turning his attention to Latrell.
"Batting 2nd, Center outfield, Latrell."
'It's his second at-bat, so he should have a better chance of picking the pitches.' Ken thought, locking his gaze onto the athletic looking figure.
As long as Latrell could get onto base, with Ken and Max coming up, they should have a decent opportunity to score.
The pitcher entered his wind-up, his strong body striding forward and sending a quick ball down the lane. Latrell planted his lead leg and swung hard, creating a crisp noise as the bat flew through the air.
WHOOOOSH
WHACK
The moment the ball made contact, Latrell threw his bat to the side and pumped his muscular legs towards first base with his head down.
Ken's eyes trailed the ball which had flown into center right field, between the two fielders. For a moment, the ball looked like it would carry for long enough for the players to make it in time.
Ken unconsciously held his breath, gripping his bat tightly. 'Drop drop!'
The right outfielder dove, stretching his glove to the maximum in an attempt to get to it before it hit the ground. But as if lady luck had intervened, the ball touched the ground, bouncing over the outstretched glove of the fielder.
By now, Latrell had already reached first base, but he didn't stop there. Without looking, he lowered his head once again and powered through towards 2nd base.
Because the fielder had committed to his dive and failed to field the ball, it provided the additional time he needed to secure the 2nd base. By the time the center fielder got to the loose ball and threw it back, Latrell had already slid onto 2nd.
"Nice!" Ken pumped his fist, his spirits soaring.
"Awesome hit Latrell!"
The Gladiators bench went into a cheering frenzy, joined by the larger than usual crowd. This was the first hit in an otherwise uneventful game, waking the crowd up from their slumber.
Latrell raised a thumbs up towards Ken, as if to tell him that he'd done his job. Ken chuckled, receiving the message loud and clear. Now that the guy was on base, it was Ken's job to send him home.
"Batting 3rd, Pitcher, Ken."
With his name announced, Ken slowly walked towards the batters box. He briefly locked gazes with the catcher and sent him a dark smile.
The guy shrunk back, his earlier bravado nowhere to be found. After experiencing Ken's pitches in the 2nd inning, the guy had realized that he probably shouldn't piss the opposing pitcher off.
Steve happened to call a couple of inside fastballs, scaring the living daylights out of the guy.
With a sense of vindication, Ken turned towards the pitcher after performing his pre-batting ritual. Getting into position, he focused his eyes on the figure.
'It's time to go all out.' Ken thought, activating his vast mental capacity. This was something that caused a lot of fatigue, so he only used it sparingly.