Chapter 172: <172> Gaining the Advantage and Adjusting Positions
Chapter 172: Gaining the Advantage and Adjusting Positions
"Ball!"
Helplessly, the pitcher was forced to throw another ball.
"Again?" The catcher mentally cursed, wanting to voice his frustration.
But while he was thinking that, he acted swiftly.
However, by the time he raised his arm, Sendo was already sprinting back to the base, leaving him no choice but to throw the ball back to the pitcher.
"Focus on the batter! Be ready to concede one run!" the catcher signaled.
From second base, Sendo could see Manaka's grip on the ball, revealing the pitch type, even from such a distant lead.
Both Sendo and Shirasu were confident the next pitch would be a strike.
"A strike, huh? Bet they want that," Sendo thought as he spotted the grip indicating a curveball.
"Steal!"
"Damn it! Again at this moment?" the catcher cursed internally.
Shirasu, originally preparing for a fastball, swung deliberately despite the curveball.
Seeing Sendo's steal, he knew that even if he missed the ball, he had to create some interference.
Thus, Shirasu's intentionally slow and exaggerated swing disrupted the catcher's throw to second base.
"Stolen base successful! What an exciting game!" the commentator exclaimed.
"Ugh…" Ota clutched his chest, his face contorting as if he was about to faint. The tension was too much.
"Yahaha, if only you were the batter right now! You two are the perfect duo!" Kuramochi teased Miyuki from the bench.
Surprisingly, others around them nodded in agreement.
Miyuki, known for his clutch hitting when there were runners in scoring position, could have been a perfect match for Sendo, whose speed consistently put him into scoring positions.
The synergy was undeniable.
"Hey!" Miyuki protested quietly, feeling slightly embarrassed by the comment.
Kuramochi wasn't the only one to think this; even Rei, observing from the sidelines, had a similar realization.
Remembering Miyuki's stark contrast in performance with and without runners on base, she couldn't help but sigh.
The two of them might actually create excellent chemistry.
As for how to improve Sendo's baserunning techniques or whether it was even necessary, that was up to Coach Kataoka.
Sendo was still just a first-year, and building a solid physical foundation was the top priority.
Moreover, it was no secret that Coach Kataoka was planning to give Sendo a starting position.
Besides physical conditioning, the first priority was helping him adapt to the high school game's pace.
Even without visible progress, simply adjusting to the tempo could elevate his performance.
Right now, it was clear to anyone watching that Sendo was still struggling with the rhythm of high school baseball.
Compared to middle school, high school players were faster, more aggressive, and faced significantly higher pitch speeds.
The difference between live pitches and pitching machines was also profound.
The second priority, which normally would have been defensive training, was deprioritized after seeing Sendo's natural capability in the outfield.
For now, it seemed sufficient.
Instead, the focus shifted to refining his hitting and integrating him into infield defensive strategies.
Baserunning, a lower-priority skill, would have to wait. For now, Sendo's hitting was the more anticipated aspect of his game.
...
On the field, Sendo's aggressive play and coordination with Shirasu had put him on third base.
With a favorable count of 1-2, Ichidaisan was bracing themselves to concede a run.
Ichidaisan's defense knew they also needed to prevent Shirasu from getting on base.
With a runner like Sendo at third base, their options were severely limited.
His unorthodox lead-offs added to the pressure, though they were slightly more restrained compared to his leads at first and second base.
After all, third base was in Manaka's direct line of sight, much like a left-handed pitcher watching first base.
Still, Sendo's blazing speed left Ichidaisan's players visibly exhausted.
"Shirasu -senpai, this is all I can do. The rest is up to you!" Sendo muttered, glancing briefly at Shirasu at the plate.
He didn't dare look for too long; Manaka didn't need to turn his body for a pickoff throw to third base.
Getting caught distracted and picked off would make all his efforts meaningless—and likely earn him a scolding from the intimidating "sunglasses coach."
Just imagining his angry face sent a chill down Sendo's spine.
Sendo smirked to himself. "Even recklessness needs its limits."
"That Eijun… he's probably back at school playing catch with Furuya right now, having the time of his life. Just wait—I'll secure my spot as a starter! Last year, we couldn't go to Nationals, but this year, I'll take you there—Koshien!"
Focusing back on Manaka, Sendo subtly adjusted his lead-off distance again, keeping the pressure on the pitcher.
He never doubted that Sawamura would make it to the first-string team.
...
Pop!
"Safe!"
The umpire's call confirmed Sendo's aggressive lead-off was safe yet again.
Directly facing the pitcher from third base was inherently dangerous, but Sendo thrived under the pressure, forcing Manaka to split his focus.
Realizing that Ichidaisan's battery had started to focus more on Shirasu, Sendo deliberately created distractions, baiting pickoff attempts to disrupt their rhythm.
Only Sendo had the audacity to play such games, much to the dismay of Ota, whose heart couldn't take much more.
After several pickoff attempts, Shimizu signaled Manaka to stop.
The interplay between lead-offs and pickoffs was a double-edged sword.
While repeated pickoff throws could distract the runner, they could also disrupt the pitcher's rhythm.
Similarly, constant dashes back to the base could throw off a runner's timing.
But Sendo was confident in his ability to maintain his rhythm.
Furthermore, he was willing to disrupt his own rhythm if it meant creating an opportunity for Shirasu to succeed.
Coach Kataoka, recognizing Sendo's intent, issued a signal for a force play to secure the run.
Seeing the signal, Sendo reeled in his lead-off, confusing Ichidaisan's players even further.
"Are they really going to leave it all to this eighth batter?" Ichidaisan's players were baffled, as were some of Seidou's spectators.
Even Ota couldn't help but mutter quietly in confusion. His unique "whisper-shouting" style, with a wide-open mouth but subdued voice, was almost comical.
Coach Kataoka, however, quickly relaxed, understanding Sendo's strategy.
By reducing his lead-off, he gave the illusion of a potential out, baiting the defense into targeting him.
If they failed, it would leave them helpless to stop Shirasu from getting on base.
Sendo's calculated risk was bold and perfectly aligned with Seidou's aggressive, high-pressure style of play.
This was undoubtedly a risky move. In any other less critical situation, a coach less inclined to grant his players freedom might have stopped it.
In all circumstances, a player must demonstrate dominance—but not recklessly. Sendo's style perfectly matched Seidou's philosophy.
For Coach Kataoka, who already had plans to nurture Sendo, stopping him was out of the question.
Being able to maintain composure under pressure in such a pivotal moment was a valuable trait.
Not only did it build the player's confidence, but it also trained their mentality—a win-win scenario.
Avoiding risk to play it safe was akin to passing up an open three-pointer in basketball due to fear of failure.
Boldness paired with careful calculation was the hallmark of a great athlete.
Ichidaisan, however, had no idea of this underlying strategy. Though confused, they focused on playing baseball as they normally would.
Sendo's antics successfully diverted Shimizu's attention toward him, achieving his goal.
This was an open strategy—Sendo's retreat to the base was bound to be noticed, forcing the defense to reassess their chances of tagging him out.
If they believed there was a reasonable chance of success, they would try, even if the risk was only conceding a base to Shirasu.
This psychological trap was precisely what Sendo set up.
Any attempt to throw him out at home would essentially guarantee a free base for Shirasu.
In tactical terms, the probability of catching Sendo was virtually zero.
Still, no matter how sound the tactics, executing such a risky maneuver ultimately depended on individual performance.
...
"Now it's no outs, a runner on third base, and the count is 1-2," the commentator announced as the pitcher straightened up, preparing to throw.
Each pitch in baseball had its own rhythm, and regular updates were necessary.
With Sendo no longer leading off aggressively, pickoff attempts were rendered unnecessary.
It was now a matter of decisive action.
Manaka refrained from using a full windup; with Sendo's speed, a full windup could risk a steal at home plate.
Manaka stomped hard and delivered his pitch, met with Shirasu's bunt.
"Force play!" The timing left no room for hesitation.
Clink!
As the bunt was laid down, both Sendo and Shirasu sprinted.
At first, Shimizu noticed Sendo's acceleration seemed uncharacteristically slow, almost as if his rhythm was off.
It was intentional—Sendo's speed left a deep impression on the defense. If the bunt succeeded, his slow start would deceive them further.
"Home plate!" Shimizu called out, ultimately taking the bait.
Sendo, holding back no longer, surged forward with explosive speed.
The first and second basemen scrambled to recover the ball and threw it to home plate.
At this point, all decisions rested with the catcher.
Pop!
Shimizu caught the ball and turned, only for Sendo to slide in—appearing dangerously close but actually a full step ahead.
"Safe!"
Frustrated, Shimizu threw to first base.
Pop!
"Safe!"
Shirasu had reached first base effortlessly.
"Seidou scores again! Now leading by two runs with no outs and a runner on first!" the commentator declared.
While it might seem excessive to go to such lengths just to get Shirasu on base, it preserved an out for Seidou, allowing the middle of their lineup to come up with runners still in play.
Even as Manaka regained his composure later in the inning, Seidou's lineup still capitalized, scoring three runs in total, stretching the lead to 10-6.
Coincidentally, the next batter to start the following inning was Sendo.
...
Ichidaisan's players felt dispirited.
"Why is it Sendo again?!"
Don't ask—they knew the answer: Masuko had hit a clutch single, but there were no runners in scoring position. Miyuki, unfortunately, flopped again.
When Miyuki's weak liner went straight to the pitcher, Sendo spat out the water he had just drunk.
Miyuki looked awkwardly embarrassed.
After his spectacular three-run homer in the first inning, his performance had taken a nosedive.
...
"Sendo and Isashiki, switch positions. Sendo, cover center field; there are more right-handed batters on the opposing team. Isashiki can handle left field," Coach Kataoka announced after the offensive inning.
"Uh…" Sendo hesitated. "Can I stay here? Center field is huge!"
But one look from the "sunglasses coach" shut him up.
"If your laziness causes a defensive error, you can reflect on it in the second-string team!"
"Yes, sir!"
"Man, that's scary!" Sendo muttered, patting his chest after agreeing.
...
"Attention, Seidou lineup changes: Kawakami replaces Tanba on the mound, batting ninth. Sendo moves to center field, and Isashiki takes left field."
As the bottom half of the inning began, Seidou rotated positions and changed pitchers.
"Do your best! Don't mess this up, or I'll kill you!" Jun Isashiki encouraged Sendo on their way to the outfield—but his choice of words and tone were terrifying.
"Thank goodness I don't share a dorm room with him," Sendo thought, nodding nervously while feeling relieved.
...
Kawakami's entrance stemmed the bleeding from earlier innings, holding Ichidaisan scoreless.
Ping!
"Pop!"
"Strike! Batter out!"
However, during Sendo's third plate appearance, Manaka—having regained his form—got the better of him.
A slider on a full count led to a foul tip strikeout.
Sendo struggled to adjust to Manaka's pitches.
His inexperience with distinguishing balls from strikes and the lingering mismatch in rhythm between him and high school-level play hindered his performance.
As he returned to the dugout, Sendo had mixed feelings.
He felt like he could take on Manaka, yet also sensed the gap in their levels—Manaka being a step above him.
Manaka's duel with Sendo in this inning showcased his sharpness, resembling a performance straight out of the Koshien tournament.
The sound of Sendo's foul tip, though harmless, still sent shivers down Ichidaisan's players' spines.
With Sendo's power and speed, even the smallest crack of his bat was enough to unnerve the defense.
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