Ken and Steve walked out to the field together, the latter looking a little on edge.
"We can't wait any longer… These guys will be targeting your fastballs like crazy from now on since it's their 2nd at-bat." He said, narrowing his eyes.
Ken shrugged, "You're the boss, I'll throw whatever you tell me to."
Steve nodded, his mind deep in thought. Once he had it in his mind to end the game early, he became extremely motivated. Although it might seem a little unorthodox, Ken was on board nonetheless.
By the time Ken arrived on the mound, the first batter for the Dodgers was already waiting by the side. Based on his determined and fierce expression, even Ken could tell that the guy would come out swinging.
Ken turned to Steve and felt a new sense of appreciation for his friend. He was surprised at the guy's intuition, despite his seemingly lazy persona.
'I guess he's an EX- potential for a reason…' Ken mused inwardly.
Ken bent down and collected the rosin bag, rolling it around in his right hand for a bit as he waited for the game to resume. His eyes moved to the opposing bench and could feel all of the Dodgers team staring at him menacingly.
'Heh, I guess I'm their biggest obstacle to get back in this game…' Ken thought, a small grin tugging at the corner of his lips. Unfortunately for them, he had an extra motivated catcher who was going to make their lives tough.
"Batting 1st, Center outfield, Michael."
The announcer called up the next batter, prompting him to enter the batters box. His athletic frame was like a coiled python, ready to strike at the perfect moment.
But Ken didn't feel a shred of pressure, his eyes already moving to Steve behind home plate. Seeing the lead, he nodded.
Ken entered his wind-up with ease, bringing his hands to his chest and his leg up in one smooth movement. After kicking off his back leg, he took a long stride forward before twisting his body and sending the ball rocketing forth.
WHOOOOSH
PAH
"Strike."
Like Steve said, the Dodgers would be attacking his fastball from the get-go. Despite the ball sailing over the strike zone, Michael still swung hard at the ball.
'They're desperate… Things won't end well for them if they keep this up.' Ken thought, feeling a small hint of pity. But that quickly disappeared after remembering the haughty catcher from earlier.
He received the ball back from Steve who had called for another fastball. Ken merely nodded, letting his friend make all the decisions. Like Daichi, Steve was someone that Ken trusted to make the right calls when it mattered.
Especially now since they were already up by 4 runs.
WHOOOSH
CLICK
"Foul."
A hint of frustration crept onto Michael's face as he watched the ball fly to the right of first base. Making contact with the ridiculous fastballs was hard enough, but trying to score a hit felt almost impossible.
'If I only swung a little earlier…' He complained inwardly.
Steve sent the ball back to Ken and crouched down, his face pulling into an imperceptible smile. He sent the signal to Ken who merely nodded in response. They were ahead in the count, which meant this next ball would have the most impact.
'I can't wait to see their faces…' Steve thought, his mischievous personality being roused.
Ken began his wind-up, striding forward with power. Once the ball left his fingertips, the spin on the ball caused it to wind through the air like a serpent snaking along the ground.
WHOOOOSH
PAH
"Strikeout!"
"What!?"
A few voices around the field shouted in surprise as the pitch went through to the catcher. Coach Roberts, Tony, Lorenzo and a couple of others in the crowd exclaimed in shock, not believing their eyes.
"Was that a slider?" Tony muttered, his eyes wide in shock as he stared at Ken on the mound like some sort of anomaly.
"I think so? Wait… Couldn't he only throw a fastball, curve and changeup? Were we given the wrong information?" Lorenzo asked, looking around in confusion.
Coach Roberts within the Dodgers bench suddenly turned solemn. His game plan was to make use of Ken's limited repertoire of pitches and his habit of not throwing outside of the strike zone to get some hits. However, the addition of a single slider was enough to overturn his tactics.
'This is a problem…' He thought. His hand raised to his mouth subconsciously as he began to chew on his nails.
But no one was more confused than the batter Michael, who had timed his swing perfectly. He had been expecting to feel the impact of the ball during his swing and therefore had tensed accordingly.
But upon following through, he hit nothing but air. To someone who had never played baseball, it might not seem like much, but to those with experience, they knew the stifling sensation all too well.
It took him a few moments to steady himself during the follow through, but eventually Michael left the field and returned to the bench.
"How did I miss it by that much?" He muttered, taking a seat.
During his reflection, he didn't notice the solemn atmosphere of the bench who looked as if they'd just witnessed a crime. Only after raising his head did he find out everyone was silent.
"W-What's wrong with you guys?" He stammered, placing his hand on Brady's shoulder to get his attention.
Brady turned his head, his eyes looking rather lifeless. "Do you know what he just pitched to you?" He asked, sounding defeated.
"Y-Yeah, it was a fastball right? I just mistimed it." He stated, as if trying to convince himself.
But Brady shook his head, "He threw a slider, a nasty one at that…"
"Slider!?" Michael's eyes widened in confusion, "I thought he could only pitch 3 balls?"
"So did we…" Cade replied, his usual stoic expression looking a little stifled.
"So what now?"