The Hitting Zone

Saturday was the opening day of the tournament and the stadium was on its way to being filled up. We showed up early, with Mom letting the three of us splitting off since we had over an hour before Zeke and his team took the field.

Noah had the bright idea to get ice cream first as we walked around and got a feel for the stadium. Noah knew at a glance that the dimensions were very similar to Klein Field at Stanford, but the seating capacity was way more. Not too surprising since Stanford had a bunch of trees beyond the outfield. But still. Charles Schwab Field was like a mini pro stadium with how many people it could hold.

"24,000." Dave read off his phone. "That's almost six times as much as Klein Field."

"Dang. Do you think Creighton plays in front of that many people every home game?" Noah asked about the school that this stadium was home to.

"No way." Dave scoffed. "Opening day might be big. And especially if they host any playoff games, but besides that, I don't think they even get one-tenth of the place filled up."

Noah made a face. "That's depressing then. I would hate seeing so many open seats every time I took the field." He nudged me. "What do you think? Would you like to play in a near empty stadium?"

I didn't have to think too hard. I started to nod.

"Wait. You might want to hold that thought, Jake." Dave held up his free hand, looking down at his phone again. He scrolled with his thumb. "Fun fact, Creighton might not fill up the stadium on a normal basis, but they do have the most fans on average compared to the other Big East teams in the conference. Their average attendance is somewhere under 2000 while the other schools are all near 500."

I cringed. "I think I would be more scared in a small field with 500 if that's the max capacity. Like that would be considered a full stadium. And everyone would feel so close."

"Meh. That goes back to the dimensions of the field." Noah said. "You like the A's stadium cuz there's extra space between the playing field and stands. If you played at somewhere like Fenway, where the fans are super close, you would be spook."

"Jake would definitely not be the type to chase a foul ball into fan territory." Dave laughed.

I shook my head. "I play the middle infield. It should be my job to go in foul territory at all."

"It's not uncommon." Noah shrugged. "I've done it." He talked about how we would have better angles to see the pop ups better than the corners and whatnot as we strolled around the stadium.

It started to feel like a lecture and more like torture when I had finished my ice cream. I got lucky though when we approached some kind of cage that was surrounded by fans of all ages. Young and small. Noah was immediately attracted and stopped talking about fly balls and started to push his way through the crowd to see what was going on.

I was a little hopeful at first, seeing that it was kind of a cage setting, but as soon as I got a good look, I was uninterested.

Bullpen Speed Pitch, a sign advertised. 'See how fast you can throw and see if you can compare to some of the pitchers in the College World Series.' There were a few names above faces with a number next to them. I recognized Rhys right away and pulled out my phone to take a picture. The number next to his face said 98.

"No way Rhys throws 98mph." Noah grinned, taking a picture with his phone too.

"It's probably what his fastest pitch has been clocked at this season." Dave said. He handed me his phone and wallet. "Here, Jake. You hold this. I'm going to give this a shot." He started to rotate his shoulders like a warmup stretch.

Noah quickly did the same, stuffing his phone and a bag of snacks he had hidden in his pocket into my arms. I pocketed each phone and Dave's wallet, while watching them try to loosen up with what little space we had. As we got closer to the front of a makeshift line, we were able to see a few others give it their best shot. An old man barely topped out at 63mph. A young kid had matched that, earning a few claps and cheers. A grown man who looked like he knew what he was doing, threw a fast one and the radar flashed a 84. It was the highest we had seen until we got up front.

A young man spoke with Dave, who was then handed a ball. Dave rubbed the ball between his hands with a grin on his face. He stood on the marked spot like it was the rubber on a mound. He did a full windup and let that ball go, directly hitting the fake nine-box setup they had. The radar sign flashed and showed 91, prompting the crowd to applaud and holler in excitement.

Dave pumped his fist in the sky towards the crowd before walking back to me.

"Show off." Noah rolled his eyes and stepped up to the guy in charge. The guy handed him a ball and gave maybe a sentence or two of instruction. Noah nodded and went to the marked spot. He didn't do anything fancy like Dave. He just hurled the ball his hardest. It wasn't dead center like Dave's, but still within the nine box. The sign changed to 92 and the crowd erupted. Noah turned and bowed at them. He came back to me and Dave with a smirk. "Would you look at that? I throw faster than a D1 pitcher."

"Tch." Dave crossed his arms over his chest. "You didn't give two shits about location. I can throw faster if I lose the accuracy."

Noah shrugged. "What can I say? My job is to get it towards first base. It's up to the first baseman to make the catch."

Dave narrowed his eyes. He let his arms go down and walked back to the man in charge. They spoke and the guy actually gave Dave the ball again, despite already having his turn. Dave gave it a small toss before catching it and walking to the mark. This time he did his quick delivery and the ball made a loud thud against the low section of the fake strikeout zone. Nasty. I already knew it was going to beat Noah's. Sure enough, it flashed 94, and the crowd went wild. Everyone within ten yards was talking about Dave and his feat.

"Can you beat that?" A small voice said from nearby. We turned to see an elementary school kid, holding a glove, looking directly at Noah. "Can you? Or is he better because he's bigger?"

Noah scoffed. Then grinned. He went over and patted the kid on the head. "Size doesn't mean everything in baseball." He went to the guy in charge and had a small talk.

Dave came back, having fist bumped everyone nearby. "Damn. I'm good. I can't wait for college. I've got to be the best incoming pitcher on the team."

I nodded in agreement. I couldn't imagine that many guys out there better than Dave and going to the same school as him. That would be insane.

Noah was handed a new ball, but he didn't go line up at the marked spot. He got the crowd to back up a little bit.

"That little cheat." I heard Dave muttered.

Noah was able to get a bit of a running start before throwing the ball before the mark. The ball maybe grazed the corner of the fake strike zone, however it didn't matter. All eyes were on the small screen with the numbers. 94.

I cringed as everyone screamed in excitement. Especially the little kids with the high-pitched voices. Noah went over and high-fived the kid that had asked him if size mattered.