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By Wednesday when they all arrived at the field on Cobblestone Street, everyone had a glove and a pair of cleats. A few girls had their own batting helmet; Sydney’s was bright pink, which Emily thought might not work well with the red stripes in their uniforms, and wished she’d been more specific when she told them to get their own helmets. Oh well. Too late now.
It was time to try some fielding. She lined half the girls up at first, and half at third. Then she picked up a bat and headed toward home plate. “Juniper, would you please demonstrate the stance they should take to be ready for the ball?”
Juniper acted pained, but she demonstrated. Emily hit her the ball, and she flawlessly scooped it up and fired it to first base, where it bounced off the outside of Hannah’s glove. I wish I could play Juniper everywhere.
Hailey stood behind Juniper. “OK, Hailey, you’re up. Hannah, why don’t you try to catch another one?”
Emily hit the ball. Hailey bobbled it, but she did stop it, got it into her hand, and then fired it three feet over Hannah’s head.
“Let’s try that again,” Emily said. And they did. And again. And again.
After thirty minutes, when Sydney complained about being cold, and Emily told them to run a couple of laps, Emily had determined that only Juniper and Ava could field the ball. MacKenzie and Hailey were close. But since Juniper and MacKenzie were likely to be otherwise engaged, that meant that Ava and Hailey had to play the entire infield. Well, that wasn’t entirely true; Jasmine could catch the ball fairly well, but she sure couldn’t throw it—she was shaping up to be a fine first baseman.
The girls returned from their laps; Sara Crockett, dressed all in black, led the pack. Sara had even found a black softball glove and a black batting helmet. Her cleats were mostly black too, but the constancy was interrupted by a pink logo that Emily thought probably drove Sara nuts.
Sara was a pleasant surprise. She was doing much better outside than she had in the gym. She was still fairly terrible, but Emily had to give her an A for effort. She seemed one hundred percent focused, both mentally and physically, and when she dove for a grounder, Emily wanted to give her a trophy on the spot.
Emily sent them into the outfield and then tried to hit them some balls. The first one didn’t quite get there. The second one she whiffed entirely and was grateful that she didn’t hear any scoffing or giggles. This is harder than it looks. She picked up another ball, threw it up into the air, swung with all her might, made contact, and beamed with pride as she watched it soar through the air and then fall to the ground thirty feet in front of the outfielders—she hadn’t even made it out of the infield.
Juniper came running toward her. “Want me to take over?”
Emily didn’t want her to take over, didn’t want to admit that she couldn’t do this, and didn’t want to give this uncoachable kid any proof that her coach wasn’t really much of a coach. “Sure. Thanks,” she said, not liking the overwhelming feeling of humility that was making her feel sick to her stomach.
But Juniper didn’t give her any attitude. She just hit the ball. Right to Chloe. Who didn’t catch it. Then she hit another ball. To Lucy. Who also didn’t catch it.
Emily trotted out to the outfield to try to provide some help. “OK, guys. When the ball is hit to you, you’ve got to try to judge where it’s going. Is it going over your head? Or is it going to land in front of you? That determines which direction you’re going to want to move, and you’ll get better at that the more balls you see come your way. Now you don’t want to run with your glove in the air. You just run, like normal. And then try to get under the ball. Then get your glove up, and your throwing hand right beside your glove. Understand?” Sixteen blank stares. “OK, let’s try it again. Sydney, you’re up.”
Juniper hit the ball right to her. Sydney ran forward, holding her glove up in the air like a torch to light a dark path, about thirty feet, then turned and watched the ball soar over her head.
“Next,” Emily said.
Juniper hit the ball to Sara, who took two quick steps forward, then turned and ran four steps back, and then caught the ball.
Emily couldn’t help it. She yelped with excitement, jumped up and down and clapped like a little kid on a Ferris wheel. “Sara! Yes! Yes! Yes!”
Sara remained expressionless, but Emily sensed she was enjoying herself. Or at least she was less angry than usual. The combination of cold and exercise was also causing some pink to break through the pale foundation caked on her cheeks.
Through the line they went, over and over—and over and over, no one came anywhere near catching it—except Sara.
After a few rounds, Emily jogged back to Juniper. When it was Sara’s turn, Emily said to Juniper, “Hit it over her this time.”
Juniper raised an eyebrow. “Feeling cruel?”
“No, not at all. Just want to see something.”
Juniper hit the ball and Sara didn’t even hesitate. She seemed to know as soon as it left the bat that it was going deep, and she turned and ran for it. She almost got under it, didn’t quite, and then dove for it with her glove outstretched.
“Unreal,” Emily said.
“Yeah, that was pretty good,” Juniper admitted.
“I think I’ve just found my new favorite human being.”
