“This will also help you with higher pitches. One of the best ways to get a hitter to pop up is to throw above his hands,” Moose said.
“I don’t understand.”
Moose had me make a few practice swings.
“Now stop over the plate,” he ordered.
I swung the bat until it was over the center of the plate and held it there.
“This is your natural swing,” Moose pointed out.
Moose stepped in front of the plate with a baseball and held it an inch over my bat.
“What are you going to do to hit this ball?” he asked.
“I’ll have to adjust my swing,” I said.
“Show me.”
I swung the bat to hit the higher ball.
“Notice how your swing changed?”
“Yeah.”
It had changed from a flat swing to more of an uppercut. I could see how the trajectory of the ball would change, or I would undercut the ball and pop it up.
“What would happen if you originally had your knees bent? Could you stand a little straighter and still have your natural swing?”
“Yes, but I’ll have to make adjustments on almost every ball thrown. Not all of them will be perfect.”
“You’re right,” Moose said, and then smiled. “What I’m trying to show you is a way to expand the zone where you can swing naturally. You’re a coordinated kid. I wouldn’t try this with all my players, because I first want them to find their swing. This adds some complexity to your hitting approach in that your body isn’t just striding and hitting. There may be some movement up or down to get the bat head where you need it.
“Look, I have no worries that you can hit almost any pitch. Your eye-hand coordination is exceptional. You know as well as I do that if you can get a pitch in your sweet spot, you can hit it harder without any extra effort. If you could expand that zone by just a couple of inches, it would make a difference in your long-term power numbers.”
“I’ll try it,” I said.
“Good. Now I want you to learn to bunt.”
I blinked a couple of times. I fancied myself a power hitter. Why would Moose ever want to take the bat out of my hand?
“Why?”
I would never have asked that if there were other players around because it would look like I was challenging Moose. I expect he knew what I was thinking.
“At some point, you’ll play on teams where you’re not the only quality player. I say that meaning no disrespect to your teammates. But bunting is a powerful weapon, and guys like you seldom learn how to do it correctly. If you watch major league baseball, there are only a few hitters on any team who can reliably lay down a bunt when needed. The ones who can’t were always the top guy before they got to the majors. Their previous coaches would rather have them swing away than sacrifice to move the runner over.
“If you learn this skill, it’ll make you even more valuable; just like Coach Haskins is going to teach you how to steal bases. I want you to think about the big picture for a minute. What does the infield do when someone like you comes up to bat?”
“Take a couple of steps back,” I said.
“Correct. They want to give themselves more time to react to a screaming shot. Now, what will happen if that same batter lays down a bunt? You’ll have that many extra steps to beat it out. A hit is a hit. You know what happens if you get burned in footbalclass="underline" you adjust. I’ve watched you sucker a defensive back into playing tighter and then hit him with the big one.
“It’s the same thing here. If we can get them to play tighter, they have less time to react. It opens up holes where a hard hit can get through because they weren’t back and couldn’t react to it.” I nodded my understanding.
“Let’s talk about stealing bases. A good base stealer puts a tremendous amount of pressure on the infield and especially the pitcher. Now, to this point, I’ve never been a big proponent of base stealing, because each runner is so valuable. Combine that with the fact that not a lot of high school players are very good at it, and you can see why I’m that way.
“Coach Haskins has opened my eyes about a few things, though,” he said, and I smirked. “Yes, this old dog can be taught new tricks. Coach Haskins pointed out that the pitcher, catcher, and second baseman all have to do their jobs correctly to throw out a runner. Last year proved his assertion that at this level, an active base runner can cause havoc.
“It also forces the pitcher to throw out of the stretch because they have to hold the runner. If they throw to first, there’s always a chance for an error. This gives our batter an advantage. My plan is to get you on first and make the defense worry about what you’re going to do. Coach Haskins is one of these metrics guys, and he assures me that a good base runner will help us win more games.”
“I can get behind that. If it’ll make me a more well-rounded player and help the team, I’ll put in the work,” I said.
He had me go into the batting cage and adjust my stance slightly. Bending my knees more felt funny, but I could still hit without a problem. It would just take time for me to get used to it.
While I finished up, others began to arrive. Moose patted me on the back and actually cracked a smile.
“Go tend to your political stuff. Just remember, baseball season is here now, and I’d kind of like it if you’d start focusing on it.”
◊◊◊
Paul was waiting for me out front. He took me home so I could change. I asked him to go pick up everyone, and I’d be ready by the time he got back. After putting on a Dakora outfit, I ran downstairs to the house to check on Bandit. I didn’t need Halle’s cat traumatized when I returned him. He met me at the back door and meowed. Bandit wasn’t happy about something.
“He’s a bigger tattletale than Duke,” Mom said.
“Have you been abusing him?” I asked.
“No, I think he’s just used to being an only child. Why don’t you take him out back for a bit?” Mom suggested.
Halle had bought Bandit a kitty leash. While he usually came to me, I didn’t want him taking off; I would never hear the end of it. Bandit seemed to understand that Duke didn’t get to go with us because he almost pranced out the back door to the whines of my trusty hound. Duke certainly didn’t understand why his master would take a cat for a walk when he didn’t get to go. If I had more time, I would’ve taken both of them.
Suddenly a blur jumped out from the side of the house.
“Oh, no, no, no, no!”
Precious had Bandit by the back of the neck, and he looked dead. I felt my stomach tighten. If Brit’s cat had just killed Bandit, I might have to end Precious. I got on my knees.
“Bring it here,” I commanded.
Precious cocked her head and then brought me the kitten. She dropped him, and Bandit jumped up into my arms. I’d forgotten that if you picked up a cat by the scruff of the neck, it would go limp. My heart was beating like crazy, and I could feel Bandit trembling in my arms. I checked him all over, and Precious hadn’t left a mark on him.
I stepped inside, handed Bandit to Mom, and told her what had happened. Bandit was happy with all the attention she gave him. She told him stories of the evil cat from next door. I, of course, had to let Duke out. I chuckled when Precious tried the same thing on Duke. He just shook her off and then chased her.
◊◊◊
When the SUV pulled into the gate, I sent Duke inside and called to my mom to let her know I was leaving. Grandma Dawson had claimed shotgun, and Brook’s parents claimed the middle row, so I got in the back with Brook. Today’s Town Hall wasn’t going to be like the ‘get out the vote’ campus events I supported last weekend, despite being held at UIC’s Pavilion.
That was the reason my grandma was going. People across the state knew who she was, and it would be an older crowd.