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Chapter 59

If you’d relied on Proctor’s recounting of the starting pitcher sessions, you’d think his particular performance had been catastrophic.

Pitching Coach, Hag, had each starter throw 50 pitches off the artificial mound in right field. The team’s four catchers were once again expected to set up over temporary home plate.

Hag ran the starters through their drills in two flights, four pitchers and four catchers each, until all eight pitchers got their throws in. The System, as always, was watching.

One thing that stuck out to me, even before getting into the individual performances themselves, was Hag’s decision to have each starter throw fifty times.

“We only threw thirty pitches per reliever,” I said to her.

She shrugged it off.

“They throw more pitches per game, isn’t this right?” Hag said. “Does not a starting pitcher face more innings, and batters? This is what you’d taught us.”

“I see your point,” I said, “but, it gives each of the starters more potential Experience Points than are possible for relievers who only threw 30 times.”

“And what of the negative?” Hag said.

My scrunched upper lip told her I didn’t get her meaning.

“Twenty more throws means twenty more opportunities to lose those ‘points’, as you call them, as well… is this not so?” She said.

I suppose she had a valid point. I didn’t bother to argue back.

Regardless, Proctor recalled his session, and said it was an unmitigated disaster.

“First of all, your friend, Mr. Quallon acted as my bat catcher,” Proctor said. “Off on the wrong foot straight away, I’m sure you would agree.”

“Not a fan, of course,” I said. “Did he cause you problems that hindered your pitching performance. Is this something I need to get involved in as team owner?”

“No, no,” Proctor said. “Nothing like that. Only an interesting point of fact, I suppose. Anyway, bemused though I was to be throwing to him, I was more disappointed by my own inability to place the pitches well. My accuracy… much to be desired.”

“I’m sure it wasn’t as bad as you’re making it out to be,” I said. “I have a habit of catastrophizing too.”

Proctor chuckled. “This is what I do?” He said. “Catastrophize? Kudos on the twenty five cent word.”

“Probably a made up word, isn’t it?” I said.

“Probably.”

“I’m only saying, Hag didn’t let on that you’d stunk up the pitching sessions. We’re all our own worst critics. We’ll see what the System says, but I doubt you came off as poorly as you’re thinking,” I said.

“I appreciate your attempts at cheering me up,” Proctor said. “I will admit there were a few decent throws in there, however, too few… I’m afraid. In fact, I’m of half a mind to believe I may have come away with negative Experience Points once the accounting is done.”

I scoffed at the idea. “No way,” I said. “Now you’re just being silly.”

“Perhaps.”

“Tell me about the others,” I said.

“Another friend of yours, Torag,” Proctor said.

“Ah, yes,” I said. “A pitcher who shouldn’t be a pitcher. He’s been unimpressive from the time I’d named him to the team.”

“He wasn’t much better throwing off the mound next to me, so I’ve been told,” Proctor said. “Hag left the impression his pitch movement, and location was simply abysmal.”

Happy as I was to hear someone I didn’t like had under performed, I also recognized it was a net negative to the team. The System shouldn’t have designated Torag as a pitcher in the first place, based on initial assessments.

“Who else threw in the first group along with you?” I said. “Do you remember?”

Proctor folded his arms, and looked upward to the sky, trying to recall. We were stood behind my container home adjacent to the right corner of the infield.

“Ah, right, Auden Hale,” Proctor said. “Hag seemed quite pleased with him.”

“Encouraging,” I said.

“Quite. I remember she’d done some counting of her own, and had stated Auden threw the most top level pitches of us all - taking into account speed and movement,” Proctor said. “How she judged these things, I’m not completely sure.”

“She’s definitely taken to her role more strongly than I’d thought she might,” I said.

“Oh… hold on a minute,” Proctor said. “No, I’m mixing up the two. Not Auden. He threw fine enough. It was Landyn, yes, Landyn Barnette. He’s the one Hag had praised so vociferously.”

“Now who’s using the twenty five cent words?”

We both giggled, and stared out at the field where we could see Kestrel, the small handyman in the far distance working on building the outfield wall.

“I’m encouraged,” I said. “When you first started talking, you made it sound as though our starting pitching was going to be a disaster, but you’ve actually given me cause to hope.”

“As I always do,” Proctor said with a chuckle.

“And, the second group of starters?” I said. “You watched them, I’m guessing?”

If you stumble upon this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it.

He nodded. “Dalen Edwardstone proved to be a minor disappointment,” he said.

“How minor?”

“I believe half of his fifty throws missed the mark,” Proctor said.

“Ouch.”

“Indeed. I watched most of his session. Caught a few moments of each of the other three,” Proctor said. “Wyer Denman definitely left an impression. Hard thrower. Allis Derry, Alfie Alvin, also quite good.”

“Excellent,” I said. “I love hearing this. Really only one blemish then from the second group?”

Proctor’s shoulders slumped. “I can’t help but feel my inclusion on the starting pitchers’ roster drags everyone down,” he said.

“Please don’t feel that way,” I said. “You’re an integral part of the team. To be honest, I don’t know how much of a playing contribution I’m going to be able to make as a mediocre relief pitcher.”

“Were we hoping to cheer one another up?” Proctor said. “Because we’re rubbish at it.”

Helpfully, Mora the Hitting Coach decided to hold off on batting practice until after the pitching sessions were over. This allowed Proctor and I to sit in the bleachers behind home plate to watch all the position players. We were like a couple of wisened baseball scouts traveling to some far flung town to watch prospects take at bats. Except, none of us happened to be actually ‘wisened’. The System had a sense of humor.

Mora ordered the outfielders to bat first. She had Wulf Stanston crouched behind home plate to catch his batting practice. The protective shield fencing was set up in front of the pitcher’s mound, and Mora had asked utility infielder Eldric Hinn to throw medium speed pitches right down the pipe, making them as hittable at possible.

Mora’s goal was to have each position player hit 30 times, and judge their level of contact. Elite contact would constitute a home run, driven far beyond the outfield fence line, even if Kestrel had yet to finish the fence itself. Good contact were deep fly balls to the outfield. Average contact were hits into shallow and medium outfield positions. Below average were foul balls, or catchable line drives within the infield. Poor contact were pop ups, and limp ground balls within the infield.

There were a few random players manning positions in the outfield, and a few roaming the infield too. Nothing serious as fielding wasn’t being practiced, but hitting instead.

Stanley Axel, the center fielder came up to bat first. He carried three different bats with him. Once he’d selected the bat he’d start hitting with, he placed the other two quite gently against the back stop fence. It was actually a bit humorous as he treated the bats as if they were delicate creatures.

“The man cares for his bats,” I said.

“It would appear so,” Proctor said. “It’s been said baseball players are quite a superstitious folk. Could it be that as baseball sets down its roots into this world, the people here may well blossom into a deeply superstitious sort as well?”

“There are worse ways to be,” I said.

“Hey batter, here we go batter! Here we go!” The calls came from the Home dugout where all of the position players sat waiting for their turn at the plate. I have no idea where they’d learned a chant like that, the kind of thing you’d actually hear at a ball park, or coming from team mates on a ball team - but I was ecstatic to hear it.

For a time, it seemed to work.

Stanley Axel drove the first three pitches he saw deep into right field where they dropped in the vicinity of the warning track.

“Impressive,” I murmured.

“That’s a positive start,” Proctor said.

We’d gotten ahead of ourselves though. He plunked ten ground balls right after. The last of which slowly rolled past third base into shallow left field with all the speed of a lazy mouse.

Proctor and I shared a concerned look. Axel wasn’t showing starting center field form at the plate. He hit five more lackluster grounders before salvaging some of his dignity by planting ten balls into shallow outfield positions. He removed his batting helmet, and I could see the disappointment on his face.

Carefully, he collected his bats, and walked slowly to the dugout.

“Good job, Stanley!” I called to him. I didn’t want him to feel too dejected.

Harold Grey was next up to bat, and we were not prepared.

The System had designated this center fielder as a Level 2, but I didn’t think he’d stay there for too long. He impressed straight out of the gate.

Boom! Two pitches launched from Harold’s bat and looped like rainbows well past Kestrel building the left field wall.

“Geez, that had to be more than four hundred feet. Maybe even four fifty,” I said.

“My oh my,” Proctor said. “An auspicious start.”

Harold Grey didn’t hit one ball for below average or poor contact. Not one. Sure, the majority of his thirty pieces of contact were of average grade, but he hit three more long home runs. And, he coupled that with five balls rocketed way out to the warning track in all fields.

When he was done, the guys in the dugout gave him a round of applause, and he playfully bowed before departing his session.

“Dang,” I said, shaking my head. “Do we even need to see the rest?”

“Hard to imagine anyone performing better than that,” Proctor said.

And, his prophecy proved true. Mostly. The rest of the position players were mostly average. No one stood out, but for third baseman Edward Kin - a Level One player - who also impressed with the long ball, and he only had a few swampy grounders.

All in all, I thought the hitting session was a success. Of course, it was hard to judge without any context. I had no idea what other villages were doing for players, or what kind of skill other places possessed within them. Was Moonlight some kind of anomaly where the medieval people living there took to baseball more successfully than any other village, kingdom, or county? Or, was the opposite true?

Didn’t matter in the moment. I heartily congratulated Mora for a well run session full of cause for optimism. She seemed to mostly agree.

“I see a few things,” she said. And, I almost laughed because it was odd to find this person who’d had no experience or facility with baseball at all, suddenly speaking as if she’d been coaching the sport for years. The System with its fairy dust again, was all I could think.

“We’ll do better,” Mora said.

We shook forearms, and she departed just as Barkley our Manager arrived. He was keen on holding fielding drills. Pitchers would be involved too, as you would be expected to field balls from the mound in game situations. I was just glad to have another opportunity to gain Experience Points. Greedy? I don’t know. I just knew I really wanted to level up.

A moment after Barkley arrived, the System had its say.

[Please note… updated Moonlight Magic Experience Points…

Results from Starting Pitching, and Hitting are in.

Experience Points break down:

Starting Pitchers:

Proctor Smythe, Level 1: +15XP

Torag Gill, Level 1: -15XP

Landyn Barnette, Level 1: +35XP

Auden Hale, Level 1: +25XP

Alfie Alvin, Level 1: +25XP

Dalen Edwardstone, Level 1: 0

Allis Derry, Level 1: +20XP

Wyer Denman, Level 1: +30XP

Position Players:

Stanley Axel, CF, Level 1: +5XP

Harold Grey, CF, Level 2: +45XP

Denton Carkner, LF, Level 1: 0

Woodrow Irvine, LF, Level 2: +15XP

Gak Bar, RF, Level 1: -5XP

Jux Quallon, RF, Level 1: +10XP

Cedric Harlane, OF, Level 1: -5XP

Jeremiah Quallon, C, Level 1: 25XP

Wulf Stanston, C, Level 1: 0

Ead Yellow, C, Level 1: +30XP

Oswald Chester, C, Level 1: +15XP

Dillard Coal, 1B, Level 1: +5XP

Gerard Plunkett, 2B, Level 1: +35XP

Kimball East, 2B, Level 1: +5XP

Edward Kin, 3B, Level 1: +40XP

Barnard Wastewell, 3B, Level 1: +25XP

Reilly Blackburn, SS, Level 1: +10XP

Beckett Akin, SS, Level 1: -15XP

Eldric Hinn, IF, Level 2: +15XP

Clifford Summers, IF, Level 1: +30XP

Not one player from those listed above has achieved an increase in level.

Better luck next time.

Have a great day!]