By the time the visitors finished batting in the top of the fourth, the score was 45-0 and the umpires were ready to call it on the mercy rule. Jordan’s coach were ready to give in to this even before the bottom of the inning, but Jordan begged for one last chance to get a hit, which they decided to allow. As Jordan stepped up to the plate, the previous batter having also struck out, Lucas could tell that he had a fierce determination in his eyes, one that seemed different from any emotion he had ever seen before from his brother. As the first pitch came, Jordan stepped back, bracing for a huge swing, before--
CRACK!
The ball sailed high and fast, traveling in a long arc down the third base line. Lucas whirled around, watching as the ball sailed... just outside the yellow foul pole.
”Dammit,” Lucas muttered to himself, but as he turned back around, he looked over at the opposing pitcher, nothing a sudden unease that seemed to come over him. Jordan had clearly gotten to him with that last foul ball, and, being the only batter who had made contact with his pitches, twice now, he knew that Jordan would require more than just the usual four-seamer.
A smile seemed to spread across Jordan’s face, and he started to stick his tongue out the side of his mouth as he got back in the batter’s box. The pitcher let loose the next pitch, but this time, the ball traveled substantially slower, and curved downwards. Jordan eyed the ball all the way in, looking like he was ready to send that ball packing, but held up at the last moment. When the ball hit the catcher’s mitt, a silence filled the air, everyone waiting for a called strike that never came.
”One and one’s the count," the umpire finally called out, and the crowd went nuts. ”Geez, it's just ball one,” Lucas said, shaking his head and grinning, though he was happy that his brother could do what no other batter seemed to be able to do -- work the count.
The third pitch of the at-bat nicked the outside bottom corner, resulting in a called strike two. The pitcher seemed to relax a little, but at the same time, the look of determination came back into Jordan’s face. The next pitch, a fastball down the plate, would be his.
Another crack, and again the ball sailed high into the air. But this time, it headed towards the right-center field fence. Jordan took off like a rocket towards first, rounding the base before the ball came down... right against the wall. The Center Fielder grabbed it and fired it back towards the infield, but not before Jordan came into third base, sliding and just beating the tag.
The crowd erupted yet again, going crazy now. Lucas helped up his brother and hugged him. ”Great triple, bro!” he exclaimed.
”Thanks!” Jordan beamed back. ”But I’m not done yet.”
The pitcher now was clearly rattled, and his next three pitches each missed the zone, two outside and one too high. The fourth pitch was swung on and missed for strike one, but the fifth pitch was in the dirt. ”Ball four! Take your base!” Again the crowd cheered, and the opposing coach in the dugout behind Lucas and Jordan started going nuts, cursing and throwing bats and helmets to the ground in disgust. Lucas seemed to be the only one who found it odd that everyone was getting so worked up for a forty-five run blow-out of a game. But he could see how much this meant to his brother, and he knew what needed to be done.
With the next batter still in the on-deck circle, Lucas caught their head coach’s eye, and casually gave the signal for a double steal -- having the runner on first try for second, and when the catcher would try to throw him out, have Jordan take off for home. The coach hesitated, looking at the runners on first and third, then back at Lucas, finally nodding. Lucas relayed this to the first base coach, and then to Jordan, who nodded with a confident grin.
As the batter stepped up to the plate, Lucas's heart was pounding, as this play could go bad really easily. The first pitch was thrown and the runner at first took off for second. As the catcher rose to throw, Jordan broke for home at just the right time. The catcher saw Jordan breaking just as the ball left his grasp, and seemingly tried to pull it back into his hand, but it was too late. When the ball got to second and the runner was called out, Jordan was already beginning to slide into home plate, and though the ball was relayed back, the catcher never had a chance.
”SAFE!”
The crowd erupted, and Jordan's team stormed out of the dugout, jumping on him and mobbing him at the plate, then lifting him up and carrying him off the field on their shoulders. ”Geez,” Lucas said to himself, ”they’re acting like they just won the World Series.” It was only after the game that Lucas discovered that Jordan’s hit, and his run, were the first of each that the opposing team had allowed all season.
Of course, the final batter went down on strikes, and the umpires finally did call the game on mercy after the fourth inning, with a final score of 45-1. Though defeated, Jordan’s team seemed happier and more excited than the visitors did, and Jordan was now a star among the community, at least for today.
When they got home, though, Lucas couldn't help but wonder and worry about what tomorrow would bring -- if it would even come at all. And if it didn't come around, if today happened again and it was game day once more, what would change this time?
By six AM the next morning, he got his answer.
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