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The softball and baseball teams’ first countable games were scheduled to be against Buckfield. At Buckfield. This wasn’t great news. Emily kicked herself for not scheduling more than one preseason scrimmage, but the time had just flown by so fast. Now here they were, only days away from real games against real teams. She didn’t know anything about the Buckfield softball team except that they’d had pretty incredible records for the last several years. So she assumed they had a girl who could pitch.
So far, she hadn’t let Juniper pitch batting practice. She hadn’t wanted to wear her out or risk her getting hurt, but now she was out of time. Her girls should probably face a human pitcher before facing the Buckfield one. And she didn’t know any windmiller she could ask to spend three hours on a ferry just to pitch batting practice.
So, on Monday, she had MacKenzie get into full catcher’s gear and she put Juniper on the mound. “Hailey, you’re up. Chloe, you’re on deck.”
The first pitch went by Hailey so fast she didn’t even begin her swing. She looked at Emily. “Don’t worry, I’m OK, just taking a look at it.”
The second pitch went by Hailey—and then she swung. She looked at Emily again. “I’m still OK.”
The third pitch went by Hailey at the same time as she swung, but she made no contact.
“Don’t take your eye off the ball, Hailey,” Emily said.
Hailey didn’t respond. She just looked mad. She swung again. And again. And again. And no contact. Emily knew she had to move on to Chloe, but she didn’t want to pull Hailey out of the batter’s box before she even got a piece of the ball. Turns out, she didn’t have to make the decision. Hailey made it. She swore, ripped off her batting helmet, and threw it at the bench. Then she dramatically tore her batting gloves off too.
Emily nodded to Chloe, who sheepishly took Hailey’s spot at the plate. Emily went over to Hailey. “And now you can have a seat.”
“What?” Hailey snapped.
“I said, have a seat,” Emily said, her voice rising. She knew half the field heard her, but she didn’t care. “First of all, Juniper is an awesome pitcher. Of course you’re not going to be able to hit off her the first time you try. So don’t get so discouraged. Second of all, you don’t get to act like that. You’re a leader here. So have a seat until you can act like it.” Emily turned to walk away.
“Coach,” Hailey said.
Emily turned back toward her.
“I’m sorry. I’ll act like it. Can I go back out on the field, please?”
Emily nodded and then turned her attention to Chloe, who wasn’t faring much better than Hailey had. “You’re just throwing it down the middle, right?” Emily asked Juniper.
“Yes, ma’am.”
“Nothing fancy? No curveballs or drop balls?”
Juniper gave her an odd look.
“What?”
Juniper jogged off the mound and up to Emily. Then she lifted her glove to her mouth and spoke through it. “I don’t want anyone to know this, but I can’t throw a curveball or drop ball.”
Emily laughed.
Juniper looked annoyed.
Emily put a hand on her shoulder. “Don’t be offended, hon. I’m not laughing at you, I swear. It just struck me funny the way you delivered the news.”
Juniper nodded, looking serious, then lifted her glove to her lips again. “I can throw a change-up,” she muttered.
Emily nodded and gently pushed her back toward the mound. “OK, well don’t throw any right now.”
Chloe didn’t make contact and looked considerably less coordinated than Hailey had while trying. Jasmine was next.
“I like that strike zone,” Juniper said. She was referencing Jasmine’s height, but Jasmine didn’t seem to know this. Jasmine couldn’t hit the ball either. Neither could Allie. By the time Sydney missed ten pitches in a row, Emily could tell morale was low. The field was silent, and no one was smiling. To make matters worse, some parents had gathered to watch the end of practice. This happened often, but they weren’t usually subjected to such a hopeless show.
“Hey, bring it in for a second, guys,” Emily called out. The girls trotted in. “OK, listen to me. Juniper here is good. It is very hard to hit off a good pitcher, especially when you’re just starting to learn to bat—”
“Buckfield’s pitcher is pretty good too,” Sydney interrupted.
“I know that, Syd, and please don’t interrupt me.” Emily took a deep breath. She took a step back so she could see all their faces. “Listen, we might not get a single hit on Friday. But what I’m trying to tell you is, that’s OK. This is our first game, against a great team who’s going to have a great pitcher. But it’s OK if we lose. It’s OK if she pitches a no-hitter. Good for her. We’ll still get to play defense. And we still might even get on base. Fast pitchers are also often wild pitchers, and we might get some walks.” Juniper looked skeptical, but Emily ignored that. “Or maybe we’ll get lucky, and someone will get hit by a pitch.”
“That’s actually my plan,” MacKenzie said, and everyone laughed.
The spell was broken. Thank you, MacKenzie.
“OK, so let’s go back out there. And it doesn’t matter if we hit or don’t hit. It doesn’t matter if we score or don’t score. Let’s go.”
They all ran away from her, except Hailey, who stood there looking at her. “If none of that matters, then what is even the point?”
She took a step closer to her junior. “The point is learning a game that can be a life skill. The point is being with your friends and teammates. The point is exercising and breathing fresh air. Winning is fun, Hailey, I know that, but losing can be fun too. Just relax and try to enjoy the game.”
“I’ll never be able to enjoy losing,” Hailey said. But she did run back out onto the field.
Next up was Hannah, who was the first girl to swing at the first pitch. She didn’t hit it, but at least she swung. And her swing was textbook. “Lookin’ good, Hannah!” Emily said and meant it. Hannah swung again at the second pitch, and the top of her bat caught the bottom of the ball, making a high-pitched ping sound, and sending the ball backward into the backstop.
The girls acted as though they’d won the World Series. Victoria jumped up and down screaming what sounded like war cries. Kylie did cartwheels. Chloe put both hands in the air and repeatedly shouted hallelujah. The only girls not smiling were DeAnna and Sara, but even Sara was slapping her glove with her throwing hand. What a bunch of lunatics, Emily thought, but she too had a crazy grin on her face. “OK, Hannah, let’s see what happens if you hit the center of the ball. Also, MacKenzie, in real life, if a foul ball like that happens, you’re going to have to rip your mask off and try to catch it.”
“I’ll catch it,” MacKenzie said, her bravado muffled by the hardware.
Juniper wound up and fired as the team waited with bated breath. Hannah swung and, crack, hit a grounder down the first base line, toward Natalie, who leapt out of the way, letting it go by her into the outfield, where it rolled to a stop in the grass. The team went berserk again. Hannah had never been so popular.
“OK, guys, we should probably start acting like defenders. So, down and ready, and if she, excuse me, when she hits it, catch the ball! Don’t jump out of the way. We can practice fielding right now too.” She nodded at Juniper, who threw another pitch.
Hannah missed this time and the team let out a corporate groan.
“That was too high,” Hannah called out to Juniper. Emily couldn’t see Juniper roll her eyes because of her face mask, but she knew she did.
Juniper fired another pitch, and Hannah belted it right at Hailey, who was playing shortstop. Hailey didn’t catch it, but she did knock it down.
“Hannah, you are my favorite human being right now,” Emily called out.
Juniper threw another pitch, and Hannah hit this one over Hailey’s head, in the direction of the giant boulder. Sara turned and gave chase. The spectators started whistling and cheering.
“OK, Hannah, let’s end on that one,” Emily called out. “Ava, you’re up. Hannah, come here please.”
Hannah trotted over to her, removing her helmet along the way and revealing a giant smile. Emily raised her eyebrows at her. “Hannah, where did that come from? You were great in the batting cages, but Juniper is a good pitcher!”
“Look.” Hannah held her hands out to Emily. Her palms were covered in blisters.
Emily looked from her hands to her eyes. “What on earth?”
Hannah looked so proud. “I’ve been spending some time in the batting cages.”
“In Rockland?”
“Yep. My dad’s been taking me.”
“Well, tell your dad thank you!”
She laughed. “I will.”
“And can you also ask him to get you some batting gloves?”
She looked confused. “Why? What do they do?”
“For one thing, they prevent blisters.”
She laughed. “Little late for that. But I’ll ask him. I always thought they were just for sh—”
Their conversation was interrupted by another crack of the bat. Ava had just hit the ball back to Juniper. “Nice job, Ava!” Emily called. She felt a little lightheaded. She thought maybe she was in shock. Ava hit the next pitch toward first. And the next one over the first baseman’s head.
But it was there the glory ended. No one else hit the ball. No one else even came close. But it was OK. Emily was encouraged. The girls were encouraged. Even the parents in their waiting vehicles looked encouraged. It was still true that they might not get a hit off Buckfield. But it was also true that they might.
