Storm vs. Rogues — Game 5 (Series Tied 2-2)

The Rosalina Galaxy earned a spot in the Gold Cup Finals overnight, having swept the Pauline Magicians (I know, amazing name) in four games. I guess those guys somehow had the dedication, the stamina, the will to play baseball for generations. Now it was only up to the Storm to win this series, because who didn't want to see the Blue Blur playing for the Gold Cup again? Not that I was there to witness such an event the first twenty times...

R/R Sonic - CF #15
L/R Jet - LF #1
L/L Verne - RF #8
R/R Knuckles - C #3
L/R Storm - 1B #20
L/L Shadow - P #27
R/R Marine - 3B #11
L/R Wave - SS #2
L/R Bunnie - 2B #9

"Hey Verne!" I heard Knuckles shout as he scurried out of the dugout during practice. "Can I use your throwing arm for a sec?"

"Yeah, Dad," I replied, just loud enough that the echidna could hear me as I stood out in right field where he could barely see me. "What'cha need?"

"I wanna see how far you can throw." He was holding a stitched ball in his left hand and a wooden stick in his right. "Maybe if you play deep a few paces." He pointed behind me, presumably motioning towards the wall displaying the distance from home plate to said wall: 104 meters. Fair enough.

I stepped back a few spaces, going further as the echidna waved his five-fingered right glove towards me. Of course he was known for donning a pair of mitts implanted with obnoxious knuckles instead and only bothering to switch them up when baseball was involved. Also, he could only use one mitt as a catcher, per the rules.

"You're good," he shouted, holding his hand up in the figure of a familiar crosswalk signal, and I stopped. Looking behind me, I noticed I was only a few steps ahead of the warning track. I guess this is pretty deep.

Ball in hand, the echidna dug out his bat and rushed to the plate. Meanwhile, Sonic scurried over to third base, where he started tapping his foot, staring back and forth towards me and the echidna. Oh, you sneak. Suddenly I knew what this drill was all about.

In a stunt that could only be hopelessly attempted by a kid who called himself "the greatest hitter/pitcher in the world", the echidna lightly threw the ball upwards in front of him, and when it came down, he swung the bat, striking the ball in such a manner that it flew seemingly into thin air, of course sailing in my direction. I settled under the general area where the ball would land, lightly scuttling ahead towards the exact landing point to catch it into my glove. Upon impact, Sonic immediately dashed for the plate. I quickly shuffled it into my dominant left hand and threw it back with all my strength. I stopped dead in my tracks and stared intently as the ball sailed across the field, over everyone's head, conveniently landing, or thudding, in the echidna's outstretched mitt. He immediately swerved around to try to tag Sonic, but the blue streak had already stepped on the plate standing up. I did this drill several times and never managed to throw the Blue Blur out. Father Time could never slow this guy down.

During the performance of the Mobian World Anthem, I nonchalantly gazed repeatedly towards the enigma that was Zenith the Hedgehog, observing his continually blank stare towards... something. From what I'd observed watching him from the stands all the time during my younger years, he was always thinking about everything, but then again, he was also thinking about nothing. I'd overheard the tall red hedgehog saying the other day that he just wanted to get the game over with, but as much as anyone here believed it, I had to wonder if he himself really believed it.

At the same time, I had developed a great deal of respect for the guy, even if growing up on Angel Island conditioned me to not care much for his team as a whole. In fact, those guys were part of an intense rivalry with my favorite team, the Exeter Extremix (I know, another awesome name). In that sense, playing against him would have been an experience in its own right. You could imagine the time of my life I was having, even if he hardly spoke with me, or with anyone, for that matter.

R/R Jeff - CF #9
R/R Mina - SS #18
R/R Kyle - C #6
L/R Crush - 1B #25
L/L Shonen - P #77
L/R Rocky - 3B #16
L/L Flame - RF #24
R/R Tron - LF #51
R/R Clay - 2B #30

Sonic struck out on three pitches to start the game. The anguished expression he sported back in the dugout following that performance quickly left his face when Jet the Hawk knocked the ball all the way to the right center field wall, allowing him to settle into second base. I took a practice swing immediately upon stepping into the box and proceeded to back away from the first toss, which zoomed by me at eye level. Talk about making a point. I whacked the next toss out to left field, the ball bouncing over anyone on the infield. Jet rounded third and made a run for home, but a cyborg hyena in left field was quick to scoop the ball in her glove and chuck it to a natural-colored wolf guarding the plate. Seeing this chaos unfurl, I tried for second base. True to my judgment, the ball sailed straight to the catcher for a close play at the plate while I coasted into the empty bag on the opposite part of the infield. When I turned around towards the plate, I noticed our dugout giving the hawk several high-fives and raised thumbs. That must have been a good sign.

I turned back around to view the big video replay board displaying the mess that went down at home plate. The catcher actually fielded the ball about two steps before Jet ever reached the plate. Since the ball was thrown straight from left field, you could imagine the masked creature guarding the plate, just ready to tag our baserunner out as soon as he got the ball. Jet also could've rammed right into the catcher to try to knock the ball out of his clamped glove, but I could think of at least two ways that might have been a bad idea. Instead, the speedy hawk jumped up and to the side such that when the catcher reached his catching arm out, he missed. The momentum of his jump pulled him a step ahead of the plate, so he jolted back to slap his dominant right hand there, quick enough to score the first run of the game. When the hawk saw, or heard, the "safe" call, he jumped to his feet in celebration, dazed but unhurt.

Storm 1, Rogues 0.

I thought about stealing third base. That had no chance of coming full circle, what with the inevitable consequences that would've followed should I have been caught stealing, and Knuckles popping out to the shortstop right in front of me and then some burly albatross grounding out to first base.

On my long trek to right field, I half-observed Shadow, the ebony hedgehog perched atop the mound, casually tossing the ball as if trying to make a point. And make a point he did, with his very first pitch of the game zooming up in front of the batter's face. Geez, maybe save that for Kyle. But it didn't seem to matter much at first, as Shadow retired the first two batters he faced with little effort. And then came Kyle, the freshly groomed, naturally colored, not-so-big bad wolf. Contrary to what I saw coming, Shadow didn't throw the ball in front of his face. Instead, he threw it down the middle for a perfect strike. The wolf at the plate reacted accordingly, knocking it high into the air. The ball sailed at an alarming pace towards the right field wall. Wait, what?!

"I got it," I sighed, truly not knowing if I got it.

I turned around and ran to the wall, fixing my view towards the parabolic path of the ball (and my head didn't fall off). I noticed Sonic tailing me, then settling a few steps in front of the warning track. I found myself face to face with the wall and, seeing the ball coming down like an Armageddon flame, I jumped up, grasped the top of the wall with my dominant left hand, and stretched out the glove webbed over the only free hand I had left. The thudding sensation that struck the glove, coupled with the alarming realization that I actually reached the ball, caused my clamped glove to briefly hang over the wall, out of bounds. I pulled it back in and nonchalantly shuffled the ball back into my throwing hand as I, and later the rest of the squad, hustled off the field.

"That was a heck of a catch," Sonic shouted behind me, barely audible even over the silenced crowd.

I turned around in such a way that I was jogging backwards. "I learned it from you," I said in a half-hearted response. "That's the kind of play you have to make."

"No kidding," remembering the nice catch of his own that he had recently made.

Through the next few innings, I stayed mostly put in the "baseball ready" position: slightly squatted, standing lightly on my toes in anticipation of the next batted ball. For a while, every such ball stayed within the infield for a quick out. Then in the third inning, some half-robotic hyena stepped up and slapped the ball on the ground, skipping just past our albatross guarding first base. I could only field the ball and toss it lightly to second base, seeing to it that there was no longer a possibility of her advancing there. She would get to third base after the next guy, a mole with a short stature, whacked a fastball into the right center field gap such that neither I nor Sonic could catch it on the fly. I got my glove on the ball on a high bounce and relayed it back into the infield for Bunnie near second base, said mole sliding into the bag without a play. There was still nobody out. Following that turn of events, a guy known as Jeff Buck walked on four straight pitches. Smart.

I noticed Shadow throwing the ball even harder than he had been earlier. Perhaps it caught the mongoose taking her turn at the plate off guard, as she struck out on just four pitches. He continued to throw at an alarming speed to the naturally groomed wolf, but he wasn't biting. I had to think that Shadow was angry. He clearly seemed ready to fight someone at any given moment. In any case, the hitter drove the ebony hedgehog deep to left center field. Our speedy hawk tracked the ball and, settling a few steps ahead of the warning track, trapped the ball into his glove. Then the cyborg took off from third base, slowing down considerably about halfway to the plate, as Jet relayed the ball back into the infield. Wave the Swallow cut off the throw and eyed the runner at second, seeing to it that he didn't budge.

Storm 1, Rogues 1.

The next guy, a more burly mole compared to the one on base, proceeded to whack a sharp liner up the middle. Shadow, thanks to some quick thinking, stretched his right hand out in front of him, right in the path of the speeding comebacker, clamping his glove shut as the ball thudded in there. Awesome, no more damage.

Pretty much nothing happened in the following inning. Then Shadow drew a six-pitch walk to lead off the fifth inning. As he trotted towards first base, he tossed his bat reasonably high into the air, his way of exorcising his recent frustration at the plate, even as it elicited a less-than-enthusiastic response from the understandably disgusted home crowd. Shadow seemed to enjoy this, judging by the slight snicker on his face. Out of curiosity, I turned around to see how Zenith was reacting to all of this. He just gave Shadow a subtle wink.

The next batter was Marine, who ended up doing a lot of waiting in the batter's box as the opposing pitcher chucked the ball several times to first base to keep Shadow at bay. Finally the left-handed hedgehog on the mound dealt to Marine. Shadow didn't budge. Strike one. The pitcher received the ball back and stared intently towards the speedster leading off the bag for a while before dealing another pitch to Marine. Shadow again didn't move a muscle. Strike two. The hedgehog continued to shuffle around the mound, eyeing the stitched ball intently as if figuring out what to do next. Shadow was pretending to scribble something in a geometric pattern on his ghost-colored jersey when the pitcher again zipped the ball to the badger covering first base, causing Shadow to alertly scurry back to the bag and cling onto it for life, saving himself a second round of embarrassment. Only when the ball zoomed back into the pitcher's glove did the ebony hedgehog think to hop back onto his feet. Unsurprisingly, he left his jersey alone this time as he waited... and waited... and waited. Finally Shonen dealt the pitch, and Shadow instinctively took off, chugging to second base with as much speed as an Ultimate Lifeform could muster. The wolf waited behind the plate, and as soon as he caught the ball he shuffled it back into his throwing hand and chucked it across the field, but oh, how far too late it was. In a manner that could only be compared to King of the Hill, Shadow had casually planted his foot atop the bag well ahead of the throw. I could only laugh in admiration of such a display as I peeped back at our dugout, where many of my teammates were celebrating in a similar fashion... except for Zenith, who simply smiled lightly. He seemed like the most loneliest guy in the ballpark.

The only downside to all this was that this pitch ended up being strike three — Marine had to take a seat. The next batter was Wave, who looked at the first pitch, which zoomed well below her knees, and then swung at the next pitch, a fastball straight down the middle, knocking it high into the air. Unfortunately, the ball didn't get past the infield, and the shortstop settled right in front of Shadow to make the easy catch. Shadow had been sort of hovering a few steps off of the bag, and he scuttled back as the catch was made. I noticed Wave retreating at a sluggish pace back to our dugout, evidently frustrated from being unable to deliver in a tight situation. Before Bunnie Rabbot strolled up to the plate, she patted the dejected swallow on the back, seeming to give her words of encouragement. Wave sat quietly on the dugout bench, setting her batting equipment directly below her, and watched on as Bunnie stepped into the batter's box, awaiting Shonen's first toss of the ball, at which I somehow anticipated she would swing hard. I guess I surprised myself — she whacked that first pitch sharply up the middle, the ball bouncing over anyone's outstretched gloves and into shallow center field, Shadow making a mad dash from second base, soon passing third. The speedy buck guarding that area seemed to take his sweet time relaying the ball back to the infield as the ebony hedgehog coasted to home plate, having already nullified any chance of a play there.

Storm 2, Rogues 1.

Sonic reached base by way of a four-pitch walk, but Jet would ground out to end the inning.

The following frame looked to be not nearly as stellar as our last, as Knuckles and I both struck out swinging for two quick outs. When Storm came up, the opposing pitcher seemed to stumble with his tosses, starting with a pitch that sailed well over his head. The unsuspecting catcher had to leap like a full meter above ground to somehow trap the ball in his glove before it could get by him. This would have been a great play to save a run, except there were no baserunners. Then something bizarre went down, with the next pitch being the exact opposite, a low breaking ball that bounced off the turf just before reaching the plate. Storm, seeming to be out of his mind, swung at the ball just after it had bounced and somehow made contact, blooping it into shallow left field. Nobody in the ball's path moved a muscle. It was like they couldn't believe what just happened. Sure enough, the ball dropped into no man's land, giving Storm perhaps the most unlikely base hit of the series.

Shadow would be next to bat, tallying his second plate appearance in as many innings. His stellar plate discipline from the previous inning seemed to carry over to this one, as he laid off the first four pitches, only one of which caught the strike zone. With the count at 3-1, Shadow turned towards the dugout again, giving me the impression that Zenith would have something to say about what was transpiring before him. He just gave Shadow another wink. The ebony hedgehog casually shuffled back into the batter's box, staring down the nerve-wracked pitcher. He swung mightily at the next pitch and with a loud crack of the bat, gave the ball a ride. I think everyone at the ballpark knew that ball wasn't coming back, as made evident by the deafening silence that overtook the crowd, contrasting sharply to the sudden ruckus caused by our dugout, and we only got more rowdy as Shadow stomped on home plate and proceeded to slap all of our raised hands in celebration.

Storm 2-Run Home Run: #27 Shadow the Hedgehog.

Storm 4, Rogues 1.

I love this game.

After our turn had come to an end, who but Kyle led it off for the other guys in the bottom of the inning. The first pitch was a blazing fastball down the middle. He swung just a tad late. Strike one. Moments later, the second pitch. This one landed high and a touch outside the strike zone, but I guess the home plate umpire thought otherwise. Strike two. The evidently discouraged wolf immediately expressed his displeasure with this call, which of course you're not supposed to do. Eventually he settled down a little, enough to get to see the third pitch, another heater that seemed to have "home run" written all over it. Understandably, he swung. Suddenly the ball dipped well below the zone, meaning he missed entirely. Strike three, see ya. The wolf continued to flip, at which point the home plate umpire violently motioned the disgruntled wolf off the playing grounds altogether, effectively ejecting him. For a while thereafter, the two continued to exchange words. Even I was getting a kick out of this display, as I found myself wondering what else could go our way. As it turned out, I would have to put that thought on hold as the next batter actually did something and drove his first pitch far enough to the point where I ran back into the warning track following the path of the ball, but eventually all I could do was stop in front of the wall and watch it settle into the seats. Suddenly the crowd had been brought back to life.

Rogues Solo Home Run: #25 Crush the Badger.

Storm 4, Rogues 2.

The next batter up was Shonen, and in another duel of pitcher vs. pitcher, Shadow won by retiring his rival on strikes. The last pitch was actually dangerously located, a sharp-breaking curveball that broke straight into the strike zone; he just didn't swing. The batter after that did swing — knocking the ball into the gap in left-center field, giving Rocky a two-out stand-up double. And then came Flame the Hedgehog, the color of his fur complimenting his name. Shadow gave him another screaming fastball down the zone, at which this hedgehog alertly swung, slapping the ball into shallow center field stopping in front of Sonic. Rocky would score easily, while the hedgehog, known for his power, stopped after crossing first base after thinking about testing the Blue Blur's relay back to the infield.

Storm 4, Rogues 3.

Leave it to that half-robotic hyena to ground out to Storm, who casually took it to first base himself to end that mess.

Following that display, the other guys had to bring in this cyborg hyena from the outfield to guard home plate while they sent some grimaced rabbit into left field to take the hyena's place. He seemed to have a knack for just staring into the distance — it was hard to tell for sure, but at times I thought he was actually looking towards me. By the time the ninth inning came around, they had replaced their pitcher too, sending in their usual closer to try to keep our offense at bay. The leopard on the mound looked to do just that with Shadow after throwing two straight strikes. Then the ebony hedgehog, having apparently mastered the art of hitting, kept the at-bat going by fouling off pitch after pitch while also laying off the bad ones, ultimately drawing a walk on the tenth pitch. Marine batted next and impressively did the same thing, earning a free pass from grinding out six pitches.

Following a peculiar hand signal from Zenith, likely the first time I'd seen it, Wave the Swallow laid a bunt down the first base line, allowing both Shadow and Marine to advance a base as the only play was to first base to get Wave out. As she returned to the dugout, several of our players, myself included, gave her congratulatory remarks and high-fives for advancing both runners into scoring position on the sacrifice bunt.

Xander stayed on the mound and curiously pitched to Bunnie, getting two quick strikes on two nasty backdoor sliders. Bunnie then swung at a high fastball, popping it straight into the air. The ball only thudded into the emergency catcher's mitt after hanging for like, six seconds. I watched in anticipation as Sonic stepped in to face the other guys' star closer pitching in a non-save situation. I thought it peculiar again to see Xander pitching to the Blue Blur batting from the right side, instead of walking him so he could pitch to Jet. Instead, he watched a slider go in on his knees for ball one. Unfazed, Sonic slapped the next pitch up the middle, lacing the ball high enough for it to elude the outstretched gloves of the middle infielders. Shadow casually crossed home plate and turned around to watch Marine fly around third base. Meanwhile, the ball was zooming back to home plate on a one-bounce throw by the center fielder. Xander ended up cutting the ball off from the mound as Marine plated our sixth run of the game. Just about everyone in our elated dugout was wildly appreciative of that hit.

Storm 6, Rogues 3.

It became clear Shadow didn't want to leave the pitching mound. Entering the bottom of the ninth, he appeared to be pitching harder and with more aggression than ever, starting with him throwing a fastball to Rocky that clocked in at 150 kilometers per hour. Oh my dang. Usually it was only Zenith pitching that fast. Nonetheless, he got the batter to nub the next pitch. The ball never got past the hitting circle, allowing Knuckles to casually pick it up and throw it to Storm for the first out. The flame-colored hedgehog's at-bat was basically the same story, but his little dribbler actually reached Shadow. That cyborg hyena managed to extend the inning by slapping a hit into left field, but Clay the Mole wound up Shadow's last strikeout victim, swinging at a curveball that broke into the dirt. Knuckles had to block the ball from getting past him, as unpredictable as the ball's path could get, but by then Clay was alertly running to first base. Knuckles's throw to Storm was seamless and in time, and that was the ball game.

FINAL: Storm 6, Rogues 3.

I was as elated as anyone hanging out on the field in celebration of our third win in a row.

Everyone was giving each other enthusiastic high-fives, myself included. In particular, Sonic, Jet and Knuckles all gave me notably encouraging comments that may or may not have related to my own performance through the series. To the speedy hawk I brought up how well he had demonstrated his baserunning ability. This led to a casual conversation in which we shared our favorite plays through the last five games.

I was the last one to return to the dugout that evening. By this point everyone was now hanging out in the clubhouse doing whatever. As I casually walked through the hall leading to the clubhouse, I started hearing a peculiar rhythmic noise. I didn't pay any mind to it as I walked in to find everyone still chatting with each other, some having already taken off their jerseys. Still, someone seemed to be missing...

"Hey, Verne..."

So that voice must've been following me. That slightly-deep, Mazurite-accented voice. I felt like I'd heard it before but couldn't quite place his name. I turned around on the spot and — "Oh, hi Zenith." Ok. Don't freak out, now. "You feeling alright?"

"Oh yes," he replied shortly. I guess he'd been asked that before. "I'm just dandy. I think the other blokes are all dandy too, and I really like to see that."

"They should be. We're going back home with a chance to clinch the series, am I right?"

"Oy..." the tall red hedgehog interjected. He'd probably heard that enough as well. "You gave me a heck of a performance out there, you know that?"

"Hey, I learned it from the best," I snickered.

"Yes," he sighed, "yes you did..."

Something wasn't adding up. His face stayed totally blank as he spoke — it almost seemed mindless. Was he truly feeling alright?

"Can I ask you something?"

Zenith's response was unbelievably quick: "Shoot."

Thus I shot with careful consideration, "You're still retiring from baseball after this year..."

"That's the plan." And nothing was going to change that.

"So... what led you to make that decision?"

He blinked once after I finished my inquiry. I could tell he was thinking long and hard about his response. He seemed to be just staring into my face, whether blankly or intently. I remembered that he always looked to have everything and nothing on his mind at the same time. But the blank expression on his face dragged on for I don't know how long. I started to wonder if he even heard me, or if he remembered what I said. The longer he stared, the more tense I got myself, wondering if I should question my question. What was he thinking about?

He blinked once more, and at that instant he came to his senses. I almost didn't know what to make of it. Was he having a flashback? I realized I was too afraid to ask anything else.

"In my office," motioning his right index finger behind me, the way to said enclosed room within the clubhouse.

I paced rather swiftly into his office, Zenith tailing right behind me. As I walked in, I took a seat in front of what I presumed to be his desk. The towering hedgehog precariously closed off the door behind me and sat behind his empty workspace, full of all sorts of papers, most neatly stacked accordingly, some laid out in no conceivable pattern. Surrounding us over the walls were a bevy of soundproof foams stacked in a checkerboard formation, allowing everything in the room to be heard and canceling all sound coming from the locker rooms. As a result, the room was so quiet to the point where it felt deafening; I began to hear everything from my breath to my heartbeat, which only intensified the more I thought about it.

"It's a long story, but..."

This is going to be good.