Rogues vs. Storm — Game 6 (Storm Lead 3-2)

I couldn't believe it. Five grueling nights of baseball, which included a miraculous three consecutive wins on enemy turf, led to this moment. I was picturing this scenario in my head through most of the series, but after a while I started to question if I'd get to see it at all. But the wait was finally over. Right here, right now, I realized it would become reality.

Zenith was finally going to bat.

R/R Sonic - RF #15
S/R Zenith - P #13
L/L Shadow - LF #27
L/L Verne - CF #8
R/R Knuckles - C #3
L/R Storm - 1B #20
R/R Marine - 3B #11
R/R Sticks - SS #6
R/R Tails - 2B #10

Ok, I lied. I totally saw it coming.

As you might have noticed, Zenith was a switch-hitter. In the Turbo League, switch-hitters were an anomaly, since players almost always learned to bat from one particular side of the plate, just as pretty much everyone learned to throw with one hand or another. There had been a growing trend of not necessarily hitting and throwing with the same hand, as different scenarios in baseball were often favorable to players of different handedness, such as the bizarrely ominous fact that nobody had ever seen a left-handed catcher. There had also been a small handful of switch-hitters to play ball since him, but I'm pretty sure Zenith was the first to do it. The caveat was that he always did it the wrong way. For you see, if a right-handed pitcher was on the mound, a switch-hitter would typically bat from the left side, and vice versa. This was supposed to give the hitter a better view of the pitch as it came to him. For whatever reason, Zenith did the opposite of that, and he just stuck with it his whole career. Perhaps the strangest thing to all this was his very different statistics from both sides of the plate: his batting average was far superior from the right side, and yet nearly all of the 96 home runs he'd hit were from the left side. So with the right-hander Lavender the Rabbit due to pitch to our guys tonight, Zenith would bat right-handed, which meant he would, hopefully, somehow get on base a lot. Hopefully. Somehow.

I met up with Zenith during batting practice. He was switching sides back and forth between practice pitches, another thing most switch-hitters didn't do. The logic was that he was going to likely bat from the right side most of the game and thus should have been warming up his swing only from that side. What was the point of alternating sides during practice?

"Just in case," was all he would say, leaving me to scratch my strikingly bright blue quills in confusion.

"Hey Sonic, you gonna make another nice catch tonight?" the young outfielder tittered towards me as we took our positions in front of our undeniably passionate home crowd, the energetic bat perched in the center of the outfield and myself situated a country mile to his left, both of us now donning the same black jerseys that we'd worn for the first two games.

"I don't know, Verne," I chortled back. "That right-field wall is awfully high up, don't you think?"

"Nothing's too high up," shifting to a more assuring tone. "I've seen a few circus catches."

"I guess we'll see," I remarked, chuckling.

R/R Jeff - CF #9
R/R Mina - SS #18
L/L Flame - RF #24
R/R Kyle - C #6
L/R Crush - 1B #25
L/L Shonen - LF #77
L/R Rocky - 3B #16
R/R Tron - 2B #51
R/R Lavender - P #40

Zenith worked his magic on the mound through the first inning, amplifying his towering presence with three straight strikeouts. I led off the following frame, taking two pitches before hitting a grounder to the burly badger near first base who took it there himself for the first out. I was intrigued all day by how Zenith would fare at the bat, so I listened in just as I took my seat in the dugout.

"Batting second for the Storm: the pitcher, #13: Zenith the Hedgehog."

Much of the crowd also seemed interested by the at-bat that was going down.

I anticipated Zenith would take the first pitch. He did. The ball zoomed right down the middle. He stepped out of the batter's box for a brief moment and seemed to take his sweet time digging back in and preparing for the next pitch. Lavender threw a changeup that also landed in the zone, apparently. Zenith wouldn't have any of that. The next pitch, another changeup that dipped below his knees. After that, a fastball that he had to back up to avoid, which understandably disgusted the home crowd. He finally swung at a fastball and ended up hitting it pretty hard. The ball zipped through the air down the first base line, right into the waiting glove of Crush — an unlucky lineout that kept us at bay through the rest of the inning.

Zenith picked up where he left off, striking out the infamous opposing catcher. I guess we'd collectively reduced Kyle the Wolf to an afterthought. Also, I probably hadn't seen the tall red hedgehog throw four strikeouts in a row to start a game. This streak was efficiently dashed as Crush smoked a very fast fastball, sending it flying well over my head. I could only throw my hands up in disgust as I watched the ball settled into the seats situated atop the gigantic right-field wall.

Rogues Solo Home Run: #25 Crush the Badger.

Rogues 1, Storm 0.

I found myself staring at the wall for no apparent reason. It was only that tall since they had to make room for right field, as the bunch of seats that would have otherwise taken up much of the outfield were only used for football matches. Such was the peculiarity of the Labyrinth, this hybrid stadium containing all of us in the heart of the declining downtown area of Mazuri, where Zenith grew up. I had to think he single-handedly made baseball extremely popular in Mazuri, a place that had been historically cut off from the rest of the world. As well as hockey. And basketball, to an extent. Not football; that had been here ages prior. It was probably invented here. No wonder this place could seat 80,000 fans.

After the home run, I started to feel uneasy. The rule was that as the team captain, Zenith would be required to start the first game of the series as a pitcher as well as the seventh, if necessary. He was also mandated to exercise the starting pitcher role in either the third or fourth game, but he was only allowed to start in a maximum of four games. Technically still, he could pitch in all seven games of a series if he wanted to, but most pitchers wouldn't do that as it would wear them out before they were slated to make their next start. With that in mind, I wondered for how long Zenith would stay in this game, and whether he would be ready to pitch tomorrow should we have lost tonight.

Nonetheless, Zenith retained his composure enough to get out of the inning without taking any more damage and escaped a bases-loaded jam the following inning. Our own jungle badger struck out to lead off the bottom of the third, but Tails managed to lace a ground ball up the middle for a base hit. With the middle-aged fox chilling near first base, knowing he wasn't going to try to steal anytime soon, I was hoping to get close to driving him in, but when I made contact, the ball didn't travel very far, bouncing very high right to Lavender, who simply threw the ball to first to get me out as Tails coasted into second base. Then Zenith came up and once again took four pitches in a row, working the count to 2-2. It was like he wasn't even holding a bat. He swung at the next pitch, but it deflected up and into the netting behind everyone, so the count stayed 2-2. The umpire handed a brand new ball to the wolf behind the plate, who in turn casually tossed the ball to the waiting rabbit on the mound, after which the hedgehog in the batter's box took a practice swing. He proceeded to line the following pitch, a not-so-fast fastball right down the middle, into short right-center field. The fox hovering near second base just bolted. He wasn't the fastest runner on our squad, and his running speed had noticeably declined over the years, but he chugged on past third base. I could tell he really wanted to score on Zenith's base hit. I could also tell that the play at home would be close. By contrast, Zenith had just rounded first base by the time the flame-colored hedgehog in right field picked up the ball. He was at second base in about eight seconds, reaching the bag standing up as the ball zoomed over to the plate to try to nab the twin-tailed fox racing there. He dove head-first for the dish, stretching out his left hand in an effort to slap it, right as the catcher lunged at him with a sweeping tag, grazing his floating tails.

"Safe!"

Wow, that was way too close.

Rogues 1, Storm 1.

Our dugout erupted following the play. It was definitely up there in the catalog of "little guy" moments. I soon noticed that Tails was slow to prop himself up, so I ran out to find him lying near the plate, definitively exhausted as his tails had flopped to the ground, his face covered in dirt.

"Tails! Are you alright, buddy?"

All I heard at first was a slight moan. In a moment, Zenith was here too, after he'd called time or something. I asked the fox if he was hurting anywhere, because assisting him to his feet after suffering an injury was undeniably a catastrophic idea. Suddenly he propped his face out of the dirt.

"I'm... I'm fine," the fox stammered. "W-was I going... too fast?"

I chuckled a little. That was my little bro, alright.

After a brief round of conversing back and forth between the three of us to get as much information about his condition as possible, the fox was back on his feet. The crowd gave a very nice ovation as I walked with him back to the dugout and Zenith meanwhile reclaimed his position at second base. Shadow later reached on a walk, but both hedgehogs got left on the basepaths as Verne lined out to the shortstop. Such would turn out to be the story of the game. In the fourth inning, both Knuckles and Sticks got on base with hits into left field, but they would both be stranded as Silver, who had entered the game defensively to replace Tails, grounded out to end the inning.

I struck out to begin the bottom of the fifth. As I slowly trotted back to the dugout, giving a word of encouragement to the towering hedgehog of dull red as I passed him, I came to the realization that I wasn't having the best day at the plate. Sooner or later, after looking back and forth from the scoreboard to the crimson-furred giant at the plate, I figured everyone in our dugout must have been thinking the same thing, except for Zenith. He took the first four pitches for a third time in a row, but this time only one of them caught the zone. Three balls, one strike. I found it hilarious that Lavender was still pitching, as I would've expected him to go after Zenith for once. What was the point of not throwing strikes if he was never going to swing at them anyway? Or did he just have terrible control of his pitches? In any event, the next pitch landed well below the knees, earning Zenith a free pass to first base. He was slow to return his sticky to our dugout, as if in disbelief to what just happened, before finally trotting down the base line. As the lavender-flavored rabbit on the mound received the ball again, he fixed a menacing glare towards the dullish-red hedgehog, even walking a few paces towards first base as the unquestionably fast runner reached the bag, I guess to intimidate him into staying there, like I'd seen time and time again throughout this series. But Zenith took a hard left after stomping on the bag and immediately took six-or-so steps ahead of the bag before making a sudden move back, prompting the rabbit off the mound to chuck the ball to Crush, who had made a sudden move of himself to cover first base, but just as he released the ball, Zenith suddenly bolted to an unguarded second base. He had deked the pitcher. The buff badger previously covering first was left to chase the flying red hedgehog down until some mongoose finally went to guard second, at which point he threw the ball to said mongoose who reached below to tag Zenith, who in turn slid head first to beat the tag. "Safe" was the call. As it would later turn out following a lengthy review, he had actually slid past second, but he'd somehow maintained one point of contact with the bag at all times as he slid, so the "safe" call stood.

By now most of us were losing our minds, just as well as I realized we had schooled Lavender a second time with heads-up baserunning, and this time it wasn't even entirely his fault, but that didn't seem to matter to the other guys. Demitri came onto the field to take the ball away from the evidently frustrated rabbit, effectively rendering his night over. To rub salt on the wound, the crowd serenaded him in a taunting manner as he left the playing field. Meanwhile Demitri motioned towards left field, after which the hedgehog occupying that area hustled into the infield to take the pitcher's mound, as a somewhat nerdy-looking mole replaced him in left field. Now Shadow was going to face the left-handed Shonen with Zenith hovering about nine steps ahead of second. Or maybe he wasn't — the well-groomed wolf behind the plate stood up and motioned his catching glove to his left. They were going to intentionally walk Shadow. That made sense. But first he threw the ball to the cyborg hyena now guarding second, but Zenith was back in time. The hyena then pretended to throw the ball back, but the tall red hedgehog pointed a finger up towards her without getting up at all as if to say, "I saw that!" Finally she threw the ball for real, and he was back on his toes, again eight-or-nine paces ahead of the bag. The intentional walk was still on for Shadow. Looking back and forth between Zenith and his target standing behind the plate, Shonen threw the ball, and there went Zenith once again as predicted. Shonen's throw turned out to be an actual pitch, a fastball well above the zone over the plate. Good thinking. Zenith was about halfway to third when the catcher caught the ball, and his throw to the buff mole covering third was on target. You could not have been more accurate than that. Also, it was in time to make the easy tag for once. Instead, Zenith swerved to his right as he slid head first, reached his right hand to touch third, and then basically clung to the bag with both feet. Safe again. Under review again. Call confirmed again. What the fudgesicle.

By this point I was honestly hoping he wasn't planning on stealing home. Luckily he didn't, as the next three pitches were all fastballs that missed the zone for a four-pitch walk that I figured was just their planned intentional walk in disguise. Verne was up next, clearly wanting to release his growing frustration at the plate, but with the left-handed Shonen dealing to him, it seemed harder than ever for anyone to get on base now. Indeed, the young outfielder swung his sticky right through the first pitch, a curveball that broke below the knees. Shaking his head in disgust, he stepped out of the box to take several practice swings, seeming to take his sweet time getting set for the next pitch, another curveball, this one breaking into his wheelhouse. The bat at the plate reacted accordingly, blooping the ball into short right field. This allowed Zenith to nonchalantly shuffle to home plate to score the go-ahead run.

Storm 2, Rogues 1.

Shadow meanwhile held up at second base, after taking a huge turn from the bag. He seriously thought about going there, but it wouldn't matter as Knuckles grounded into a rally-stopping double play to end the inning.

Jeff, probably no relation to Joe, legged out an infield base hit to begin the sixth, prompting Zenith to give a lengthy stare of his own towards first base, where the speedy buck stayed for the moment.

"The buck stops here," I snorted to myself.

He struck out that one mongoose, getting her to chase a high fastball, which she likely thought would break back into the strike zone. Then the flame-colored hedgehog with the very fitting name slapped a line drive into right center field. I had to cut it off on the run and throw it back in as hard as I could, thinking I could throw out Jeff going for third base. Silver cut off my throw, seeing as it had no chance to beat the buck there. Still with one out, Kyle hit a high fly ball that traveled pretty far into straightaway center field, so I knew I couldn't do anything about it. The ivory-flavored bat hovering in that general area called it off anyway, backing up a few steps at first, then slowly shuffling forward to get a running start as he caught the ball and threw it back with all his might. The ball sailed over anyone's head, flying straight to Knuckles, who was a step in front of the plate so as not to get called for interference. He trapped the ball into his catching glove and immediately swept it to his left to tag Jeff, but he had beaten the tag. So close to a double play.

Rogues 2, Storm 2.

Flame meanwhile had advanced to second amid the ensuing chaos. He would be stranded there as Crush sent another fly ball straight to Verne, who caught it in the webbed glove over his right hand to end the inning.

Shonen got two quick outs to begin the bottom of the sixth, striking out Storm and getting Marine to softly bounce the ball back to the hedgehog on the mound, who casually flipped the ball to Crush. With his wall of experience playing first base, it came as no surprise that Shonen was masterful at fielding, as most players who specialized in pitching had cases of the yips when it came to fielding routine plays, or even throwing the ball in a non-pitching motion. I hadn't seen Zenith have that kind of difficulty, which made me wonder why he never played center field or something. In any case, Sticks followed up on her prior performance on the night by taking a ball and a strike, something she probably needed to do in her first at-bat against Shonen since the second game of the series, in which the pitcher most likely had her number. But this was a whole new game, and the entire Rogues squad was showing signs of mortality. Maybe the jungle badger could beat him on a mistake pitch.

Wouldn't you know it, she did.

Storm Solo Home Run: #6 Sticks the Badger.

Storm 3, Rogues 2.

At this rate, everyone in our dugout would have a home run by the end of this playoff run, even Zenith, who was more than a year removed from his last big fly, and after all these years had never hit one in postseason play, apparently. Speaking of, with the left-handed Shonen staying on the mound for the innings to come, Zenith was now forced to bat from the left side, and his sharply contrasting numbers at the plate certainly showed as he looked massively uncomfortable swinging his sticky. He took the first pitch as usual, but then immediately went to full-on attack mode, fouling off a low changeup and then missing a moderately high fastball altogether.

I was getting antsy now as the game progressed further. By the ninth inning I was a hot mess. There was no way anyone could be comfortable protecting a one-run lead with three outs to go and Zenith about to deal to the heart of the opposing lineup, starting with Kyle, who drove a high fly ball out to my area, which I knew almost instantaneously would sail over my head. The ball bounced off the towering wall looming over right field, and I was left to field it on a high bounce and then chuck it to Silver hovering near second base as the wolf slid there behind him. I guess the silver-colored hedgehog with the very fitting name had a feeling that the runner would beat the play.

At this point I couldn't comprehend the crazy abundance of right-handers hitting opposite-field fly balls. It made no sense. I got the idea to play deep a few steps as Crush returned to the plate, having already homered off Zenith in this game, in his first at-bat. Surely he, a left-handed hitter, would never hit the ball deep into left field.

I spoke too soon, didn't I. Well, at least it was caught.

Zenith started to drag on every pitch by the time Shonen came up. I remembered that he never liked to walk anyone, especially on purpose. I probably shared his own sentiment of finding it detrimental to walk a left-handed hitter who could hit for power with another batter of the same style waiting patiently on deck. That idea wouldn't matter much since the opposing hedgehog nubbed the ball down the first base line, only getting halfway to the bag and staying fair, forcing Zenith to pick it up with his throwing hand and flip it on the run to Storm covering first as Kyle dug safely into third. Nice play nonetheless.

The age-old question from the last batter arose when Rocky the Mole took his turn at the plate, and the echidna behind the plate indeed signaled to his left for the intentional walk. The dull red hedgehog on the mound threw one ball, and then Knuckles ran up to chat with him in private. I guess Zenith wouldn't have any of that, or perhaps he was questioning whether he should really be walking batters with a chance to close out the series. After a while, Knux patted his pitcher on the shoulder and returned to his position, where he remained standing towards his left, again signaling for the intentional walk. As the burly mole trotted to first base, I checked out Zenith's pitch count: exactly 125 pitches. Crazily enough, that wasn't close to his all-time high. But then again, he'd likely never faced the prospect of having to pitch the next night after having thrown that many pitches.

Rocky soon left the playing field, as an unfamiliar player rushed onto the field to take his place as a pinch-runner. At least I'd never seen him before. The PA announcer addressed him as Ross the Cheetah. It made so much sense. Now the cyborg hyena, a right-handed hitter for once, was at the plate. Zenith again waited for what seemed like forever before delivering his signature fast fastball, this time performing a slide step move to get the ball to the catcher even sooner than otherwise. Ross stayed put at first. Zenith received the ball back, then paced back and forth around the mound for a while, eyeing the cheetah hovering near first for again, what seemed like an eternity. I was getting even more antsy and started to ponder if either of the runners would consider stealing a base then. In such a trying situation, Zenith certainly had his hands full. Nonetheless, he finally came into the stretch, at which both runners got set. As the towering hedgehog began his motion, the cheetah darted to second. He had picked a good pitch to steal on, a slow screwball designed to break down and in. And yet, Tron made contact with the ball, striking it with enough force to have it sail over Zenith's outstretched right hand. The ball passed by all the infielders as it rolled deep into the left-center field gap.

"Oy," I grumbled in unison with the home crowd. With the wolf scoring easily from third base, this game was far from over.

The cheetah was flying around the bases as the ivory-furred bat tracked down the ball a few steps ahead of the warning track. By the time he finally picked it up, Ross had made the sharp turn around third base. Knowing that the runner was about to score the go-ahead run, Verne very quickly wound up a desperation throw and unloaded a cannon that seemed to disappear into the night sky like all those home runs we'd launched over the last six nights. The amazing part was that the throw was yet again on target, thudding right into the waiting catching glove of Knuckles, who alertly swerved to his left and reached his clamped glove to tag the cheetah, who in turn had swerved to his right to slide away from the tag in the first place.

"YOU'RE OUT!"

Are you kidding me, Verne.

Rogues 3, Storm 3.

"You just saved the game right there, you know that?" I shouted to that five-tool center fielder as we all congregated back in our dugout.

"What did I tell you?" he barked back after we'd both taken our seats. Only Shadow sat between us as Zenith leaned on the dugout fence in sheer anticipation because he too was antsy. "You have to make those plays. Remember that drill we did the other night?"

"You mean the one where you tried to throw me out?"

He nodded. "That's the one."

"Yeah, where did you get an arm like that, anyway?"

For the long minutes that followed my prompt, it was the young bat describing his juvenile years when he first learned to baseball. His favorite position growing up was shortstop, but he eventually learned that he was under a huge disadvantage at playing shortstop on account of him being naturally left-handed, of course, leading him to convert to being an outfielder, evidently allowing him to build up his speed. I was so absorbed into his story that I had to be snapped out of it by the rest of the team warning me that I was on deck. I was warming up my swing in the on-deck circle when I noticed that Ross had stayed in the game for the bottom half, taking Rocky's position at third base. Meanwhile, they had handed the ball to Xander. Oh boy. Also, Blaze was now hitting in Silver's spot with one out. Wow, long time no see. Zenith must've been really banking on finishing the game now. Putting Blaze in probably wouldn't accomplish this, but at least Blaze would have a favorable matchup batting from the right side against the left-hander trying to keep the game tied. This wouldn't matter much as the lavender-ish cat skied the ball to short center field where the waiting buck trapped it into his glove to record the second out.

I was breathing deeply as I entered the batter's box, hoping to get something done. It would have to be me. The first pitch was a low fastball, one that I had to take, and I was going to take it anyway. That meant I was also going to take the next pitch, another fastball that scraped above the knees for a strike. Now I was going to protect the plate. But I laid off a slider that broke inside of the zone, thankfully not close to hitting me. I swung at the next pitch but ended up deflecting it back into the netting guarding against the especially passionate fans. I deflected another fastball over our dugout, then laid off a curveball that took a wicked bounce, somehow landing in the unnamed catcher's glove. I fouled off another high fastball, this one going over the netting. With the count still full, I decided based on a random last-second hunch not to swing at the next pitch. It broke down and in, just missing the zone. Ball four. I casually tossed my sticky towards our dugout and took first base like a boss. And by that I mean I pretended to pick it up and hog it. In truth, I had my foot planted on the bag as soon as I had stepped on it, because I figured Xander would actually throw the ball to the first baseman for once to make sure I stayed there. He didn't. It wasn't like we hadn't pulled off enough baserunning tricks, anyway.

Zenith strolled into the batter's box, batting once again from the left side as expected, and after a long wait from the pitcher who had his view half-fixed at me, he took strike one. I realized at that moment that I could steal second off him, but I decided against it; I wasn't going to get caught stealing to end the inning. Besides, Zenith would have signaled in some way had he wanted me to steal. Meanwhile the towering hedgehog at the plate fouled off a moderately low fastball, putting him in a hole already, so more than likely it wouldn't matter. But he hung in there, taking a ball below the knees and then laying off a slider that broke down and away. I had to think for him it would have been quite difficult to not swing at that. He did swing at the next pitch, but fouled it over the opponents' dugout. Then he took another slider that broke down and away. All this time the badger guarding first base was monitoring me closely with his foot on the bag, ready to catch a pickoff throw. Now with a full count, he shuffled off the bag and settled well behind me. I was free to run. But just after I darted for second, I realized I had to go back when I saw the batted ball hooking foul, flying into the left field bleachers.

I fixated my view to Zenith, waiting anxiously to see if he would signal anything. He didn't. I was going to run, and he was going to continue to protect the plate. So I waited five-or-six paces ahead of the bag, leaning on my toes, until the leopard on the mound finally began his delivery. Then, I bolted again. Then, a loud crack of the bat. Then, a deafening roar to drown out all other sound. That must have been a good sign. I had no time to turn around to see where Zenith had hit the ball, but I figured it went somewhere in right field. All I knew was to run, run, run.

I cut sharply across second base and to my surprise found a clear path to third, the buff mole in closest proximity to the bag making no effort to guard it. I charged along, putting every bit of stamina I had into my feet to get there as quickly as I could. I would finally get a chance to turn and look for the ball as I passed third base. Observing my view after having taken another sharp turn, I noticed everyone waiting anxiously in our dugout from about thirty meters away, jumping up and down excitedly. I finally saw the ball coming back in from deep right field, not nearly as quickly as I'd just seen from Verne minutes prior. I noticed Zenith was about to race past second base as well, perhaps knowing it wasn't him the defense would be going after. I knew, of course, that everyone was depending on me. I was going to score on this play or die trying.

In front of home plate, his left foot planted there to guard it, the closest a catcher could get without getting called for blocking the plate, was Kyle the Wolf waiting to catch the ball. I was about halfway home when I stopped caring where the ball was. For a split second, I considered ramming into the catcher in an effort to knock the ball out of his glove should he have beaten me to the punch. Traditionally, a runner would have been called safe if the catcher failed to hold onto the ball when applying the tag. Then I remembered that I was an aging hedgehog that was somehow playing baseball following an agonizingly long hiatus, way past my prime, and it was my fault that pretty much everyone else on Zenith's unexpected playoff squad had gone through the same deal. I had allowed Tails to wear his pitching arm out, I had let Shadow get way too competitive, I had exposed Knuckles to unruly baserunners all over again, and I had dragged Amy along for the ride even though I knew she could have gone into labor without notice. Also, I had convinced Zenith to abandon that misfit roster that had helped him get into the Turbo League Championship Series in the first place. Two of his best outfielders had suffered devastating injuries early in the season, and now they weren't allowed to play at all, or even watch the games from our dugout. And after all that, I was about to win the Turbo League pennant for the Zenith Storm with a well-timed slide.

Wait a minute. That was what I wanted all along.

That was what Zenith wanted all along.

No. After everything all of us had been through, I couldn't stop here.

I had to finish it once and for all.

I dove head-first, sliding under the baffled catcher's ill-timed sweeping tag.

I had plated the game-winning run.

The series-winning run.

The run heard 'round the world.

FINAL: Storm 4, Rogues 3.

The madness that ensued near home plate felt massively surreal. I could tell I was being mobbed as the entire dugout emptied and jumped around in celebration with me in the middle of the pile, but I couldn't feel anything. I was probably too ecstatic to care, anyway. After all, I'd just won for Zenith only his second pennant in 51 years. This Dream Team that I had played a huge part in assembling, took down a real team to claim the title of Turbo League Champions. How did we do it? Nobody knows. If you think you know, please go to the reviews section and get in a huge fight.

As the euphoric celebration died down, I was left with the ominous realization that our return-to-baseball odyssey was far from over, that the quest for the coveted Gold Cup was only beginning in earnest. But first...

"Zenith?" I called out, not finding him anywhere in the scrum. "Where are you?"