Continued....
“Well, Jim, a big slump-busting win
for the Braves today. The offense finally came to life with Uggla's big fly in
the fifth and-of course-Michaels' coming-out party—two doubles, a run, and an
RBI.”
“No
kidding. He really has potential and showed it today. He struck out once but
really showed good pop in his bat with the two opposite-field drives. This kid
really has a bright future and I can't wait to see how he does this season.”
“I
really think with this kid's talent he could challenge for Rookie of the Year.”
“No
doubt. Good power to all fields, good speed, and good instincts.”
Kris toweled off and threw his shirt
and pants on. The reporters were still as annoying as ever here in the majors.
Guess some things don't change. Damn. Mike Bourne slapped him on the butt as he
opened the clubhouse door to leave.
“Nice opening act bro. Can't wait to
see the second.”
The door closes and footsteps echo
down the hall. The rookie has left. But he is only arriving. And this...this is
just the beginning.
GAME 20.
BRAVES VS. BREWERS.
God this slump sucks. Kris hated the feeling of not being
able to hit anything—let alone hitting anything hard. All through his college and minors career,
hitting balls hard to the gap was his game. And he did it well. Now all he
seems able to do is pop weakly out to shallow left. Oh—and don’t get him
started on loud fly outs to the track. Nothing pisses him off worse than
starting his trot only to get it squeezed at the wall.
Didn’t seem to Kris that today would be much better. He was
facing off against Yovani Gallardo—he has a nasty curve and also a wipeout
slider. Both pitches Kris knows he struggles against. Another two-K day is on
the docket. He threw his gloves on and trudged out to the batting cage to take
a few rips. The bat felt good in his hand, but then again it always does.
Holding and swinging the bat has never been the issue. Kris just gets a little
over-anxious in the box. Free-swinger, per say.
“Welcome to WCNN-93.7, home of
the Braves! We’ve got a slightly overcast day here in Atlanta, but Turner field
is dry. Should be a good day for some baseball. Its only mid-June, but the
Braves have started a little slow.”
“Yeah Chip, they have. Our
pitching has been really suspect. It seems as though Tommy Hanson is our only
real reliable starter so far. But he’s gonna need some help if we’re gonna turn
this one around.”
“One guy that has been struggling at the
plate a little as of late has been their rookie Kris Michaels. He did have a
good day at the plate the other day, going two-for-four with a couple of
singles.”
“I don’t think they called him
up for singles. I know they had bigger things in mind than singles when Freddy
penciled him in.”
“He’ll have a tough day at the
plate today with Gallardo on the mound though. He’s been inconsistent, but when
he’s on he can be one of the best starters in baseball.”
The
game started out a bit slow for both teams. Kris was batting sixth, and got
jammed on the first pitch he saw and nearly broke his bat trudging up to first,
and then changed course to the dugout. Another day in the damn office.
“Bottom of the fourth and the Braves are
threatening. McCann is on third, and Michaels is up. One down. Gallardo peers
in to get the sign and shakes it off. Now he settles, winds, ball one. Fastball
down and away.”
Michaels
was pretty proud of himself that he didn’t hack and get sent back. At least on
the first pitch.
“Yo has the sign, winds and deals. Slider on
the inside corner for strike one. Michaels steps out of the box and adjusts the
straps on his gloves. He’s back in, and waits on Gallardo. Winds and deals.”
Man
that felt good coming off the bat. A loud but solid crack sent the ball in a high arc to right-center.
“And that’s a long drive to right! This one
has a chance!”
Could
it be?!
“It’s gone! A two-run shot off of Gallardo
and the Braves are up by two! Michaels picks a heckuva time to hit his first
professional home run!”
Yeah.
It be.
Kris
batted in the seventh. Gallardo had been yanked after giving up three in the
sixth. The Braves were up 5-1 when Kris led off against some reliever he hadn’t
heard of. Ever. He fouled off a change for strike one, and watched another
change well away for ball one. A fastball down was ball two. Then—it looked
good. The rotation said slider, but this one didn’t look like it was gonna
break. Yessir—it was a concrete mixer. And now it was in the seats in left. 6-1
Braves.
Kris landed hard from the toss,
but felt nothing as his brother was run down. He sprawled stunned on the strip
of grass between the road and the sidewalk, yelling for Jason to get up. A
commotion lit up the area with shouts and people staring disbelieving. A cop
came by, lights flashing and pulled his car up to the side of the unmoving
Jason and blocked all traffic. He came by Kris and asked him what happened, but
the rest of the world outside of his senseless brother was static to Kris.
Flashing lights pulled up and Jason was taken away. Kris sat in the back of the
cruiser screaming for his brother. The cop just sat next to him and did his
best to comfort him while they waited for his parents.
GAME 37. BRAVES VS. PHILLIES.
Roy
Halladay is a beast. So is Cliff Lee. Halladay had just owned the Braves the
day before, and Kris had finally cooled off a bit after a torrid stretch where
he hit 10 homers in two weeks or so. Doc held him to a one-for-four, and the
only hit he got was a weak liner off Antonio Bastardo in the eighth. The Braves
lost that one easily.
The
second game in Philly was shaping up to be another long one. It was hot as all
blazes out on that field—ninety-eight and humid as hell. Sun was out, beating
down on the field like an oven and it was all the groundscrew could do to keep
the basepaths moistened and not clay. The Braves didn’t even take batting
practice out on the field, they just hit some in the cages. The Gatorade sure
seemed like it wouldn’t last long today.
Lee
came out dealing to start the game. His cutter in Kris’ kitchen wrecked one of
his bats in his first at-bat, and made his stay at the plate a short one in his
second. Advantage: Lee. The Phillies were up comfortably going into the
seventh. Lee was looking like he was going full complete game mode. McCann
singled though, and Kris, who was now batting fourth, came to the plate.
Another cutter. One too many and this one was in his wheelhouse. It left his
wheelhouse in a hurry too, and the Phillies’ lead was cut to one. Michaels
trotted around third and bumped forearms with McCann at home plate.
Lee was
gone. Chased after he gave up the game-tying double to Martin Prado in the
seventh. The game was close. Kris came up
in the top of the ninth with a chance to go ahead—two on, two out. For some
reason the Phillies didn’t have their closer Madson in at this point; maybe
that’s because the game was still tied. Kris hacked at a good first pitch—and
flew out to the wall. Sonofa.
Top of
the eleventh, tie game, and Kris is sitting in the dugout praying hard for
another chance. The Phillies had Madson in, probably because they wanted a
shut-down inning before their big bats came up in the bottom half. Kris was
slated to hit fourth. Michael Bourn was at bat and—
Good
job Bourn!!!
A
double started off the inning. The next two batters, McCann and Uggla, popped
out. Uggla’s flyout was deep enough to move Bourn to third.
Pressure
situation.
Madson’s
first pitch was so fat it needed its own zip code. And then got its wish for a
two-run Braves’ lead. First game winning homer for the rookie.
To be continued...
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