“Okay, you need to go over there,” she said, pointing to the other side of the room. “Tami was crazy to let you loose this weekend. Go give Missy your line of crap. She’s single and has the hots for you.”
“Oh, that’s some good information. Who else has the right moral standards to make for a fun weekend?”
“You’re not turning me into your wingman. Next, you’ll want me to pick up the fat chick.”
“Oh, you’re so hot. I really am into girl-on-girl action,” I said as I pulled out my cell phone. “Here, call your boyfriend. He might want to watch, too.”
“Tami! Come get your boy!” Harper said.
Tami came over.
“What’s he up to now?” she asked.
“He’s being a big flirt. Ray’ll kill me if I hang out with him much longer.”
“I was trying to get Ray into the action. Did you know that Harper’s into girls?”
“DAVID!” Harper yelled.
“Oh, was that a secret?” I asked innocently.
She just sputtered at me.
“Don’t let him get to you, Harper, and don’t fall for the old ‘a kiss will make it better.’ Jennie fell for that one,” Tami said, sharing too much information.
“I swear he has a one-track mind. Is he like this all the time?”
“No, he likes sports. That tends to get him back to normal. I was going to take him to the batting cage and let him hit after lunch.”
“You guys have a batting cage?” I asked.
“See, works every time,” Tami said.
“No, seriously, you have a batting cage?”
“Yes, David, we have a batting cage.”
“What are we still doing here? Let’s go.”
“I think he may need Ritalin,” Harper offered.
“I’ll look into that. Now I have to take him to the batting cage before he throws a fit.”
We went back to Tami’s room.
“HEY, WE HAVE TO GO get some other clothes. I can’t stand this thong crawling up my butt anymore. Plus I don’t think these pants would do very well in the batting cage.”
Tami went and got Missy and we went to the nearest sporting goods store. We saw they had baseball jerseys on sale, so I got Tami a Cincinnati Reds jersey. Don’t ask me why, but that’s her favorite team. Missy got a White Sox jersey and I got the Cubs. Okay, I don’t have any room to talk.
On a lark, I had Tami call Harper to find out Ray’s and her favorite teams. Tami told me that Ray was a Yankees fan and Harper liked the Cubs. See, I knew Harper was okay.
I also bought normal Range Sports athletic underwear and some casual clothes. I got a pair of shorts and a sweatshirt for batting practice. I was smart this time and left the Range charge card in my wallet.
We went back to the dorm and changed. The girls put on their jerseys and we went to the Wesleyan Field House. I walked in and was amazed. The building was multifunctional. When they had volleyball or basketball game, bleachers would be pulled out. If not, they could be pushed back. They had a rubberized running track. You could see an upstairs area with exercise equipment on one side, and training rooms for yoga or jazzercise and the like on the other. They told me that there was also an Olympic-size pool on the other side of the exercise rooms. On one end of the track, they had two batting cages set up. One had a pitching machine, the other you had to pitch.
There was a signup sheet for each. We went over and there were a couple of names on the automated side. We signed up under them. Then Tami went to the attendant station and got us all gloves and a bucket of baseballs. Tami wanted to go first, so I offered to pitch.
Missy played catcher for me while I warmed up. I had zero control over the first few pitches.
“Come on, Dawson, Missy can throw better than that.”
So instead of thinking about it I just threw. I was doing much better, so Missy got out of way and Tami stepped up to the plate.
I threw a fat one right down the middle. I heard the ping of the bat. She about tore the cover off of the ball, which whizzed by my ear.
“Jesus, Tami, have you been practicing?”
Her smirk gave me my answer. I threw her ten more pitches and she ripped each one.
She was giving me shit.
“You throw like a girl. Put something on it,” she dared me.
“Tami, I haven’t thrown at all this year. I don’t have the control for it to be safe for you.”
I didn’t want to hurt her. She went and got her glove and got behind the plate.
“Okay, big boy, let’s see what you got.”
I threw three pitches in a row, each one getting progressively harder.
“Son, you mind if I show you something?”
A man in his mid-30s came over to us. Tami waved at him.
“Hey, Tami, your swing’s getting better.”
“Thanks, Coach.”
“Hey, Bill, get in here and catch,” he hollered at another guy.
He shook my hand.
“Hi, I’m Coach Hall.”
“David Dawson.”
“David, show me how you’re holding the ball.”
I showed him.
“Do you mind if I show you how to throw another type of fastball?”
“Please, I’m just learning.”
“Good. This is a four-seam fastball, so let’s learn how to do it right from the get-go. Place your index and middle fingertips directly on the perpendicular seam of the baseball. The horseshoe seam should face into your ring finger like this,” he said as he demonstrated the grip. “Next, place your thumb directly beneath the baseball, resting on the ball. Don’t let it touch a seam.”
He handed me the ball to try it.
“Good, but you should place your thumb in the center of the horseshoe seam.
I made the adjustment and he nodded.
“With this pitch you want to grip the ball softly, like an egg, in your fingertips.”
He had me loosen my grip so that there was an actual gap between the ball and my palm. He got technical and told me how holding it this way caused less friction. Less friction equaled a faster ball. I think my eyes were glazing over. I just wanted to throw the pitch.
“Now try a few pitches.”
I had much better control and velocity on the ball. He watched me for a few more minutes.
“I want you to do something else for me. You’re a tall guy. Most power-ball pitchers are tall. Something they all do is use their legs. Your power and endurance will increase the more you get the big muscles in your legs helping out. One way to do that is to lengthen your stride. I want you to feel like your lead leg is falling off a table.”
I tried it and felt awkward as hell. He just smiled at me.
I don’t know what happened, but the next pitch just felt better. There was also a noticeable pop when it hit the catcher’s glove. I looked at Coach Hall in amazement.
“Feel the difference?”
“Yeah, let’s see if I can do that again.”
I threw five more pitches and two of them felt right. Coach Hall stopped me.
“Tami, you want to get in there?”
She snorted and put her helmet on. There was no way she wasn’t going to try and ruin my day.
My first pitch felt right and she swung too late. I tried not to smirk, but she caught it and gave me an evil look.
The next one wasn’t the same. I threw it just as hard, but it didn’t have near the same velocity. She ripped it back up the middle, about killed Coach Hall. He gave us a sheepish look and went and borrowed Missy’s glove for protection.
“Like the first one, David.”
I just nodded and went into my windup. This one I put a little extra on and Tami just watched it go by.
“Okay, five more like that and let’s call it a day,” Coach Hall directed me.
Tami watched the next one blow by her. She just shook her head and handed the bat to Bill. He gave me a smirk and dug in. He swung at all four balls but was behind on each. The last one he got a piece of.
“David, have you thought about playing baseball here?”
“Not really, sir.”
“I understand that academics are important. I’d like you to consider that having a sport on your transcript will make you a better-rounded candidate for college. Could I suggest that you come out for baseball? I’d like to groom you to be our closer.”