Softball

The last time I swung a bat back in the states was about 1994. Another guy that went to WSU and worked with me delivering pizza at Pizza Hut was on a softball team. He invited me to join his team. I went to one practice. While I in batting practice, I crushed a couple of balls into an adjoining field. It felt good. I never went back. I had injured my shoulder playing basketball years before and I literally couldn’t throw a ball.

Last week, Katsumoto pointed out that Kawaragi was going to play another school, Koryo in a game of softball on the fifth. He asked if I wanted to play. I said yes. I had shoulder surgery in 1996 and I can at least throw a little. I wanted to give it a try.

We practiced on the fourth. I threw the ball with Okamoto. We warmed up slowly. By the end of the practice I could throw, even though I had no velocity on the ball. Fielding the ball, I played shortstop for a bit, just for practice. I charged the ball a couple of times and fielded several grounders acceptably. In the outfield, I had two balls sail over my head. My senses of fielding a pop fly weren’t the same as when I was a kid, but I wasn’t too concerned. I just determined that I would keep things in front of me. In batting practice, we kept things soft. Itaha, a PE teacher, lobbed balls to me and I bounced grounders back to him.

The next day during lunch, I could hear the kids talking in Japanese about the game between the teachers of the two schools. One student, the captain of the baseball team asked me if I was going to play and if I could hit a home run. What an easy question. Of course, I was going to play and I could hit a home run. I knew I had power in my swing. In my mind I could see the ball sail over the heads of the outfielders into the practice field next to ours. The student told a few of his friends that he was going to stay and watch the game.

Before the game, Katsumoto told me that he and I would split the game between each other. He would start and I would come in half way through. He played two innings. He had one ball fall in front of him in right field and he hit a grounder and was thrown out at first. When I went in, I wasn’t sure if I would get a chance to swing the bat.

In right field, I played like a champ. Evidently, no one wanted to hit it in my direction. No balls came to me in the three innings that I played. Fortunately, they didn’t know that they could have tested my arm.

On offense the first inning I played, I made it up to the plate. This is where I knew I could do my damage. Koryo’s pitcher threw three fat balls across the plate. I hacked at all three, no contact. As the sun got lower the game was going to be forced to end. I didn’t know if I would make it back to the plate. Fortunately I made it back to the plate to redeem myself. This time I was determined not to hack at the balls as they crossed the plate. Patience, I told myself. The first pitch was fat and right over the plate. I didn’t swing.

“Strike!” yelled Harada our umpire.

Kinugawa, silkriver, yelled, “Hit a homerun, Mr. T!”

Dang! I couldn’t let that happen again. The next pitch came. It was just as fat as the first. I swung!

“Strike!”

I knew all I had to do was make contact. Just a little ball leather hitting my aluminum bat and that thing would fly. I would launch it. All I needed was just some contact.

The third pitch came. My eyes were as fat as the pitch. My muscles twitched. Just a little contact was all I needed. Thmmph! I heard the ball hit the leather mitt behind me. I didn’t need to hear Harada yell. I didn’t need to turn around and see him ring me up with his right fist in the air, but he did it anyhow.

“Strike!” Is almost the only English word he knows.

I had one pitch cross the plate without a swing and I had hacked at five others. I never touched a ball with my bat. I swear Japanese bats must be shorter than American bats. That is the only reason I can think of why I didn’t hit a homer.