It was a sunny spring day, and baseball was in the air. Bobby stood just outside the first-base line and watched Coach Ronnie hit JImmy Fender a ground ball. JImmy misplayed it, and the ball came up and hit him in the stomach. He picked it up clumsily and threw wildly to third, where Dexter leaped for it in vain before running to chase it down.

“Ah shit, my arm never got loose,” Jimmy complained, stretching his arm out to “warm it up.” Yes it did, you’re just dogwater, Bobby thought.

Coach Ronnie hit Bobby a ground ball next. It was a little to his right, so he went to the ground and smothered it with his body. He then fired a strike to Dexter, right on the money.

“Attaboy!” Ronnie yelled.

“Hey bud, you gotta field that cleanly,” Jimmy scolded Bobby. “Can’t be doing any of that going down to your knees shit.”

“Huh? What do you want me to do?”

“Watch this.” Ronnie hit Jimmy the next ball, a sharp one-hopper slightly to his left. Instead of moving his feet, Jimmy lazily stuck out his glove and the ball bounced right into it. His throw to third was weak, but Dexter was able to scoop it up on multiple bounces. 

“Great play, Jimmy!” Ronnie praised him.

“That’s how it’s done, baby!” Jimmy gloated. Spit bubbles flew from his mouth as he got right up in Bobby’s face. His breath smelled like stale Cheetos and entitlement. This was getting very old.

The Fighting Hamsters took a round of batting practice, in which both Bobby and Jimmy deposited a few balls over the fence. After practice, most of the team had gotten changed and cleared out of the locker room, leaving just Jimmy and Bobby. 

“Hey bro, you ever wrestle?” Jimmy asked.

Bobby stared at him blankly. “Nah, dude,” he said flatly. He didn’t like where this was going.

“Well, I was the star of my wrestling team in high school,” Jimmy bragged. “Check out this move.” He then proceeded to pick Bobby up by the waist and put him over his shoulder. Before Bobby could react, Jimmy slammed him hard on a wooden bench. A sharp pain shot through his back, and he slumped to the floor.

“Dude, what the fuck?” Bobby’s head was spinning, so he was more confused than angry.

“Just showing you how it’s done, bud. How’d that feel?”

“Not…not too good,” Bobby said, rubbing his back in annoyance. He didn’t know whether it was a good idea to fight back or how it would affect his standing on the team. He also wondered how much the back pain would impact his season. 

“Eh, you’ll walk it off. See ya later, freshie.” Jimmy bounced before Bobby could process the situation. Something needs to change, Bobby thought.