The Shikoku Islands team, currently dead last, was engaged in a fierce battle with our Shizuoka Oceanians to avoid the basement. Both teams trailed the league leader by over ten games, signaling a shift toward developing young talent for the summer. For Haratani and me, this was a golden opportunity. I was determined to make a significant impact and secure my spot on the first team.
The next day, Iida started at second base, Arai at shortstop, and I found myself on the bench. Maehara was the starting catcher, with Haratani also waiting for his chance from the bench.
Our batting lineup was on fire, a rare occurrence, and we led 11-2 by the end of the sixth inning. In the top of the seventh, the manager made a move when Iida's spot in the lineup came up.
"Number 9, Iida is replaced by pinch hitter Haratani."
This would be Haratani's first professional appearance. After shoulder surgery, countless hours of strength training, running, and sprints to build his lower body, he had finally made it here. Despite his usually laid-back demeanor, I had often seen him working tirelessly in the minors. *I want him to succeed, even though we're rivals for the same position.*
As Haratani walked to the batter's box, his face was more serious and determined than I'd ever seen. This was his third year as a pro after joining the team out of university. If he didn't make a mark now, he could be cut during the off-season. *Every at-bat is a battle for survival.*
Meanwhile, I pondered my own role. *If Haratani gets on base, will I be the pinch runner?*
"Takashi, if Haratani gets on base, you'll be the pinch runner. Even if he doesn't, you'll take over at second base next inning," Coach Ito confirmed my thoughts.
From this inning, Shikoku Islands' pitcher was Minato, a 27-year-old right-hander in his fifth professional year with only one career win. Given the score difference, he was likely being used in a low-pressure situation, but he still needed to prove himself. Minato had a variety of breaking balls but lacked a go-to pitch. *Focus on a specific pitch to hit.*
The first pitch came—a changeup, high and down the middle.
*Crack!*
The sound of the bat connecting with the ball was perfect. No way. The ball sailed at a beautiful angle. I stood up from the bench, watching intently. Haratani took off, eyes locked on the ball's trajectory. The left fielder gave chase but stopped as he reached the wall, turning to watch the ball disappear into the left field stands.
A home run on his first at-bat and first pitch.
Haratani sprinted around first base, only realizing it was a home run as he approached second. His eyes widened in shock, and he made a small fist pump before breaking into a broad grin. Out of respect for the opposing pitcher, he avoided any flashy celebrations, instead high-fiving his teammates and giving me a double high-five.
Returning to the bench, Haratani sat next to me and wiped his face with a towel. "Um, that towel is mine," I started to say, but stopped. He was wiping away tears.
*These must be tears of joy, remembering all the hardships he endured.* He joined the team as a university graduate and was promoted to the first team later than me and Taniguchi, both high school graduates. After injuring his right shoulder and undergoing tedious rehabilitation, he hit a home run on the first pitch of his first professional at-bat. *Of course, he'd be emotional.*
"Takashi, I did it."
"You sure did."
"I thought I might retire without hitting a single home run as a professional, just like you," he said, still grinning.
"It was great," I replied, choosing to ignore the jab.
Our Shizuoka Oceanians scored two more runs off the dejected pitcher Minato, making it 14-2. As planned, I took over at second base in the bottom of the seventh inning.
A slow ground ball came my way, and I handled it without any issues. In the top of the eighth inning, with one runner on base, it was my turn to bat. *With such a large lead, maybe they'll let me swing away.* I thought as I walked back to the bench.