Storytime!!! Part 3.

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...