Chapter 7 — The First Scrimmage
Saturday morning arrived bright and cool, the kind of day that practically begged for baseball. Dew still clung to the outfield grass, sparkling under the rising sun.
Zach jogged beside Priscilla toward the field, his Cubs cap bouncing with each step.
"Sweetheart," Priscilla said with a smile, "you're practically flying."
"I just—" Zach took a fast breath, "—I'm excited!"
She smoothed his hair. "You're going to do great."
Only a few teams were there for early practice sessions. Parents set up folding chairs, the metallic clink of bats rang out, and kids shouted across the field.
Tyler ran toward Zach, almost tripping over his own shoelaces.
"Zach! You're early!"
"You said to get here ten minutes early," Zach replied proudly.
"You got here twenty minutes early!"
"More is better than less," Zach said.
Tyler sighed. "Okay, coach's favorite."
Coach Ramirez Arrives
Coach Ramirez strode in with a backpack full of balls and the same old radar gun dangling by the handle.
"Good morning, team!" he called. "Today's scrimmage is meant to show me one thing—how you react in a game-like situation. Not how you panic, Blake."
Blake, who had been pretending not to listen, stiffened.
Tyler whispered, "Coach is so savage…"
Ramirez clapped his hands. "Warm-ups first. Then we start."
The team began stretching and throwing. Zach threw gentle tosses to Tyler, making sure not to overwhelm him.
"You know," Tyler said, squinting at Zach, "you're kind of scary considerate."
Zach blinked. "Is that good?"
"It's confusing."
"Oh," Zach said cheerfully, "okay!"
Position Assignments for Scrimmage
Once warm-ups were done, Coach pulled the team into a huddle.
"Alright. For the first half, Blake is pitching. Zach is catching."
Blake perked up with smug satisfaction.
Zach nodded, excited.
"And for the second half…" Coach continued, "…Zach will pitch."
Kids murmured with interest. Parents whispered.
Blake's entire body tensed.
"…And Tyler will catch for him."
Tyler's eyes widened. "WAIT, WHAT— ME? COACH, I ALMOST MISS UNDERHAND TOSSES!"
"You'll be fine," Ramirez grunted. "You'll learn faster than you think."
Tyler looked like he wanted to faint.
Zach patted his shoulder comfortingly. "Don't worry. I'll throw gently."
Tyler muttered, "Your gentle is still felony-level."
✅ SCRIMMAGE STARTS
Two teams formed:
Team A: Zach, Tyler, Blake, and others
Team B: mostly older and more confident kids
Blake strutted onto the mound, breathing loudly like an action movie hero.
Zach crouched behind home plate, settling into the catcher's stance he was quickly falling in love with.
"Ready?" Zach called.
Blake didn't answer. He just threw.
Blake's First Inning
His first pitch was decent—over the plate, moderate speed. The batter fouled it off.
Second pitch—wild. Nearly hit the umpire.
Third pitch—hit into a soft grounder, but the shortstop bobbled it.
Fourth pitch—walk.
Fifth pitch—wild again.
Kids on Team B started scoring, one after another.
Blake's temper rose with every missed strike.
"STOP MOVING YOUR GLOVE!" he yelled at Zach.
Zach blinked. "I didn't move it—"
"Yes you did!"
"No—"
"YES!"
Coach Ramirez stepped closer, arms crossed.
"Blake!" he barked. "Watch your tone!"
"It's HIS fault!" Blake shouted.
Zach flinched. "…I wasn't doing anything wrong."
Blake snarled. "Stuff it, freak!"
Everything went silent.
Zach's heartbeat stung in his ears.
Tyler shouted from the dugout, "HEY! You can't call him—"
"TYLER, ZIP IT," Coach commanded.
Then he turned to Blake, voice low and sharp.
"You call him that again, and you're benched."
Blake's face turned crimson, but he didn't speak.
System Reacts
Zach felt a shift—like a warm hand stabilizing his chest.
Ping.
"Rival Pressure Event Triggered."
Resilience +1."
Focus +1."
Zach breathed steadier.
Focus returned.
He settled deeper into his stance.
"Blake… just throw it to the glove," he said softly.
Blake didn't respond—but the next pitch was closer to the target.
Not perfect, but controlled.
And the inning slowly stabilized.
Blake struck out one batter.
Fielders made catches.
Mistakes lessened.
By the end of the inning, Team A had survived with only moderate damage.
Switching Sides
Team A went to bat. Zach hit a soft grounder but sprinted full speed, beating the throw by inches. Tyler hit a pop fly that miraculously dropped for a hit.
They didn't score, but spirits rose.
Then Coach Ramirez raised his voice:
"Switch! Blake to third base. Zach, you're pitching. Tyler catching."
Tyler paled. "This is where I die."
Zach smiled. "I will throw slow."
"Define slow."
"Like… fifty percent."
"NO! TEN percent!"
"I don't know what ten percent feels like," Zach admitted.
Tyler dropped his head into his glove. "I'm doomed."
✅ Zach Takes the Mound
He walked to the mound and breathed deeply.
The field quieted.
Parents leaned forward.
Tyler crouched nervously behind the plate, shaking like a leaf.
Zach focused.
He lifted his leg…
…and threw the gentlest pitch he could manage.
It floated.
It drifted.
It plopped softly into Tyler's glove.
Tyler stared at it, amazed. "That was… perfect."
Zach grinned.
Ping.
"Control Training Recognized."
+1 Fine Control."
Slow, Accurate Pitching
Zach threw again.
A soft strike.
Again.
Another.
Team B looked confused. Pitcher changes were supposed to be scary, not… calming.
Tyler perked up. "I like this Zach. This Zach won't knock me into another timeline."
Zach threw a bit faster—just a tiny bit.
Pop!
Tyler yelped. "TOO FAST!"
"Sorry!"
"Slow!"
"Okay!"
Zach adjusted.
The system chimed again.
Ping.
"Quest Progress: Match Blake's Control (68/100)."
Blake's Reaction
Blake glared from third base, hands balled into fists.
"That's NOTHING!" he shouted. "He's baby pitching! Anyone can do that!"
Coach Ramirez turned. "Blake. Enough."
"But—!"
"I said enough."
Blake kicked the dirt, furious.
But the anger wasn't at Zach's soft pitching.
It was at how effortlessly Zach was improving.
✅ Zach's First Real Strikeout
After a few soft pitches, Coach gave the signal:
Two fingers.
Meaning: Increase speed. Slightly.
Zach nodded.
He lifted his leg and threw a pitch with clean mechanics—still safe, but sharper.
The batter swung late.
Strike three.
The field erupted into cheers.
Tyler jumped up. "DID YOU SEE THAT?! I CAUGHT IT! I CAUGHT IT AND I'M ALIVE!"
Zach beamed. "You're improving too!"
Tyler pointed dramatically. "This is your fault!"
"Sorry?"
"I MEAN IT IN A GOOD WAY!"
Zach blinked. "Oh."
End of Scrimmage
By the final inning, both teams were laughing, cheering, and sweating.
Zach recorded two strikeouts and no hits allowed.
Tyler caught every pitch—barely.
Blake sulked silently at third, refusing to look at anyone.
Coach Ramirez blew his whistle. "Good work today! Best practice so far!"
Kids cheered.
Zach glowed with pride.
As he packed his glove, the system chimed one last time:
Ping.
"Quest Complete: First Game Preparation."
Reward Gained: Minor Energy Recovery Boost."
New Quest Unlocked: 'Prove Your Place.'"
Zach tilted his head.
Prove my place?
He wasn't sure what that meant.
But he knew one thing…
He loved baseball more than anything.
And tomorrow, he'd work even harder.