Shirin Junior High's coach appeared to be taking this practice match rather seriously.
He had personally taken charge of directing his team, and quite a few students had gathered around the baseball field to watch.
"Hello! It's a pleasure to meet you! Thank you very much for accepting our request for a practice match!"
Shirin's coach was a man in his fifties who carried himself with the dignity of a respected veteran.
Standing before someone so experienced and distinguished, the comparatively young Sano couldn't help feeling somewhat intimidated.
Fortunately, Shirin's coach was equally courteous.
"Not at all, not at all. We have quite a large number of club members, you see. Our newly established second-string team hasn't played a single practice match yet, so we're actually in considerable need of opponents ourselves."
What?
The second-string team?
The members of Akagi had known absolutely nothing about this arrangement beforehand.
Admittedly, their own abilities weren't much better than those of Shirin's reserves. In fact, when it came to actual baseball skills, they were probably considerably worse.
But that didn't stop them from looking down on their opponents.
After all, regardless of their actual strength, they were Akagi's first-string team!
How could they possibly be expected to play against Shirin's second-stringers?
Even Sawamura hadn't anticipated this development.
Nevertheless, he rather admired the fearless attitude his teammates were displaying.
So what if you're stronger than us?
We still refuse to be impressed!
Their arrogance might have been completely unjustified, but athletes needed precisely this sort of courage.
They had to possess the spirit to fear neither heaven nor earth.
Otherwise, the moment they encountered a powerful opponent, they'd lose their nerve before the match had even begun.
And athletes who crumbled at the mere sight of a stronger opponent would never achieve anything worthwhile.
"Second-stringers or not, it doesn't really matter. Most of them are in the same year as us anyway. Playing against opponents closer to our own level should be worthwhile."
Admiration was one thing, but they still had a match to play.
In truth, Sawamura wasn't particularly concerned about whether their opponents were strong or weak.
His main purpose in arranging this practice match was to introduce his friends to the excitement and atmosphere of competitive baseball.
He wanted them to experience a real match and, through that experience, fall in love with the sport.
If their opponents were stronger, all the better. His teammates could look up to them as examples of what they might eventually become.
If their opponents were weaker, that was perfectly fine too.
After all, closely contested matches were often the best way to develop an interest in a sport.
Having thought things through, Sawamura took the initiative to reassure the others.
Once their captain had spoken, the members of Akagi finally settled down and prepared themselves for the match.
Akagi Junior High would bat first.
Their leadoff hitter was their catcher, Yamaguchi Ken.
…
Hang on a moment!
You've got to be joking!
When the Shirin players saw Yamaguchi Ken walking towards the batter's box with his bat held upside down, their first reaction was sheer disbelief.
They simply couldn't comprehend how the team they'd agreed to play against could make such an elementary mistake.
"Yamaguchi, you idiot! You're holding the bat the wrong way round!"
Sawamura shouted, his face burning with embarrassment.
This is humiliating!
He had genuinely never imagined that things could turn out quite like this.
The problem had begun when the members of Akagi watched Shirin's fielders warming up.
Their smooth throwing and catching, their sharp reactions, and the speed of their throws had left Akagi's inexperienced players utterly stunned.
In their minds, Shirin hadn't seemed like a particularly formidable team.
So why did they suddenly look so incredibly strong now that they were actually on the field?
Faced with Shirin's polished movements and skilful coordination, the little bit of arrogance Akagi's players had displayed earlier vanished without a trace.
By the time they were supposed to step into the batter's box, some of them barely knew what to do with themselves.
And Yamaguchi wasn't the only one.
The others were hardly in any better condition.
Their expressions had changed completely, and their bodies were trembling ever so slightly.
How are we supposed to play against opponents like these?
For one brief moment, Sawamura genuinely wanted to give up.
Perhaps arranging a practice match this early really was a mistake.
Maybe the others simply aren't ready yet.
No!
I can't give up now!
The thought had barely appeared before Sawamura forcibly drove it from his mind.
He couldn't allow things to end like this.
If their very first practice match turned into such a miserable experience, his friends' enthusiasm for baseball might suffer a devastating blow.
He had to give them some confidence!
"Let's make a substitution. I'll bat first."
Sawamura replaced Yamaguchi and took over the leadoff spot himself.
Strictly speaking, changing the batting order in this manner wouldn't have been permitted in an official match.
However, this was merely a practice match, and the two schools were on friendly terms as neighbours.
Consequently, neither Shirin's coach nor its players raised any objections.
Besides, this was also their second-string team's first practice match.
After all, Shirin's reserve squad had only been established relatively recently.
"Thank you for having us!"
The Shirin coach was serving as the home-plate umpire.
When Sawamura politely greeted him before entering the batter's box, the older man couldn't help pausing in surprise.
He had already formed a fairly clear impression of Akagi's team.
Rather than calling them a proper baseball team, it would probably be more accurate to describe them as a group of enthusiastic hobbyists.
Their players clearly weren't mentally prepared for a competitive match.
And after the embarrassing spectacle their previous batter had just created, their confidence ought to have suffered even further.
Yet here was Sawamura, stepping into the batter's box as though nothing unusual had happened.
His expression was perfectly calm.
He had even remembered to greet the umpire politely and without the slightest trace of nervousness.
How remarkable!
Shirin's head coach, who had already lost practically all expectations for this practice match, gave Sawamura a small nod.
Perhaps he ought to watch a little longer.
There was no harm in seeing what happened next.
"Come on!"
After stepping into the batter's box, Sawamura began by imitating Ichiro's famous home-run call, striking a magnificent pose as he pointed his bat towards the outfield.
"What the hell? Isn't that kid getting a bit carried away?"
"Was that a home-run declaration?"
"And he's even copying Ichiro's signature move!"
"There's showing off, and then there's just being ridiculous!"
The players from Shirin were stunned.
Or, more accurately, they were furious.
Just how arrogant are these Akagi Junior High brats supposed to be?
The pitcher standing on the mound was Miki, a first-year student who had only just enrolled at Shirin that spring.
Before entering junior high school, Miki had played as a reserve pitcher in a Little League team.
After moving on to junior high, however, he'd stopped attending his former team's training sessions.
Now he served as the starting pitcher for Shirin's second-string squad.
Although Miki was merely a first-year student pitching for the reserves, Shirin's coach held him in exceptionally high regard.
In fact, the coach practically regarded him as Shirin's potential saviour.
If Miki hadn't been so young, and if his body had been a little more developed, the coach might very well have promoted him directly to the position of ace pitcher.
This particular practice match had even been arranged especially for him.
Miki was both flattered and delighted by the trust his coach had placed in him.
He was determined to perform well and live up to those expectations.
Unfortunately, the opponents standing before him were hardly inspiring.
Akagi Junior High simply didn't seem strong enough to get him particularly excited.
The only player who looked remotely competent was their pitcher.
Sawamura Eijun!
Miki was quite certain that he'd never heard that name during his Little League days.
Nor could he remember ever encountering the boy before.
Nevertheless, there was something about Sawamura that demanded attention.
His batting stance was remarkably orthodox.
Setting aside that ridiculous home-run declaration he'd copied from Ichiro, everything else about his stance was practically textbook perfect.
His posture, his grip, and the way he positioned himself in the batter's box all suggested someone who understood the fundamentals of batting extremely well.
I can't afford to underestimate him.
Just before beginning his pitching motion, Miki silently warned himself to remain cautious.
Whoosh!
Miki released his pitch.
The members of Akagi were immediately taken aback.
This Shirin pitcher…
His pitch is…
So…
So…
SO SLOW!
Of course, Miki's pitches weren't actually slow.
For a first-year junior high school student, being capable of throwing a fastball at approximately 110 kilometres per hour was already quite impressive.
However, when Sawamura had been practising with his teammates earlier, hadn't his pitches been considerably faster than that?
"HAAH!"
Facing a straight fastball travelling at 110 kilometres per hour, Sawamura let out a powerful shout.
Then, with all his strength, he unleashed the very first swing of his junior high school baseball career.
End of Chapter 004