The Hitting Zone
Chapter 11: The Cages (1)
After we ate, Noah dragged me towards the batting cages. Right before going through the double doors that led outside to the cages, there was a long counter, filled with baseball memorabilia.
"The cages are token operated." Noah explained while getting some cash out. "One token for one dollar. Each token gets you twelve pitches from whichever machine you would like." He handed a twenty to the lady behind the counter. "Twenty tokens please."
"Sure thing." The lady counted out twenty tokens and pushed them towards us. "Do you need any helmets, bats, or batting gloves? We can rent them out for a few dollars." She waved her hand towards a wall that had everything you would need to use the batting cages: helmets, batting gloves of multiple sizes, and all kinds of bats.
I took a few steps towards the bats, examining what she had. I don't know much about bats except that there are weight and length restrictions for different age groups.
"Come on Jake. I have bats for us to use. We can share my helmet and gloves for now. No need to waste money." Noah tried to rush me.
But I wasn't interested in his bats. They were aluminum like my old one. The one my mom used to beat me. What caught my attention was the wooden bats that were also grouped there.
I lifted one, a little unsure of what to expect. The weight was the same as my old bat but somehow it felt heavier. Solid. I held it like I was setting up in the righty's box and took a slow practice swing.
"Please don't swing bats inside." The lady called out.
I jumped and accidentally dropped the bat.
"Sorry, he didn't know! I didn't get to tell him yet." Noah apologized for me as he picked up the wooden bat. He looked at my guilt stricken face. "Don't worry, you're not in trouble. She just doesn't want us accidentally breaking other merchandise. Do you want to use this bat? It's wood. The ball wont go very far." He thought a bit then shrugged. "Well it's just the cages so it's not like it could go far anyways."
He took the bat to the counter. "My friend would like to use this. How much would it be to rent it?"
The lady flipped the bat to the end of the barrel where a sticker said 'for sale only' with a $60 next to it. "Wooden bats are easier to break in the cages."
"No way. Sixty dollars? That's too much! And it even looks used already." Noah protested.
"It's a MLB prime maple Louisville slugger. It's original cost is easily over one hundred dollars. We cut the cost since it's a return item." An older man came from behind us. "It's a good bat. Hard to break or chip. Even some professionals would use it."
"Even more reason to just let us borrow it." Noah countered, facing the old man. "C'mon boss. We're just lowly freshmen...how could we break a bat that even professionals trust?"
The old man smiled and patted Noah's head. "So relentless. Definitely an Atkins boy." So they knew each other? "Fine, ten dollar rental fee. If you break it, you buy it. The full sixty."
Noah happily slapped a ten dollar bill on the counter. "Thanks boss. We're just having fun anyways. Stop worrying so much."
The old man just shook his head and walked away.
"That's the boss." Noah told me as he put the wooden bat in my hands. "He runs this place so we see him frequently. My brothers say he use to be a pro way back when."
My eyes widened. That frail old man use to be a pro?
"Let's go see what you can do with the bat. Maybe we can convince mom to buy it if you like it." He threw an arm around my shoulders, pushing me towards the doors.
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