Junior Year - Part III
Chapter 17: A Piece That Fits

Copyright© 2018 by G Younger

Coming of Age Sex Story: Chapter 17: A Piece That Fits - There is a famous movie line: "There's no crying in baseball." Does that apply to making a movie? David Dawson travels to Cuba to make The Royal Palm and discovers that his director hates him. Will he be able to overcome the obstacles placed in front of him to be able to deliver a starring performance? Acting isn't the only thing to do in Cuba. David embarks on a journey to discover this hidden gem and the people that live there. Next is Japan and then U-18 USA Baseball.

Caution: This Coming of Age Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including mt/ft   Teenagers   Sports  

Tuesday July 12

Allard and I signed in and then went next door to a deli to grab a quick sandwich. I came back to Fritz giving me the stink eye.

“I know, I know,” I said, holding up my hand.

“Who’s this?” Allard asked.

“This is Fritz, the head of my security, and I’m in trouble for leaving the hotel without him,” I admitted.

“I could be with you 24/7 if you’d prefer,” Fritz threatened.

“I’ll make sure he lets you know,” Allard assured Fritz.

I don’t think he wanted Fritz in our bedroom. What he didn’t know was that Fritz had a key and had probably watched us get our freak on with Kelly.

“What am I supposed to do with the documents that I had them sign?” I asked.

“I got them. In the future, I’ll just get them off the clipboard. I also called housekeeping,” he said, giving us both meaningful looks.

I hadn’t forgotten about him, because I handed him a sandwich. I figured I was probably safe in downtown Houston during the middle of the day. But like Fritz had said before, it only took once. I was spending money to have him there, so I’d make sure he was with me when I went out.

I thought we needed to talk about the elephant in the room.

“What did you think of Kelly?” I asked.

“I thought she was Dave’s girl,” Allard said.

“I think she’s more M.E.’s friend.”

“You might want to tell M.E.,” Allard suggested.

“Are you interested in her coming back?” I asked.

He looked at me as if I’d lost my mind. On the one hand, we had a willing girl. On the other, we had a teenage boy. What did I think he would say?

“I don’t think she’s the kind of girl you want to just mess around with. I would bet that today just got a little out of hand. I don’t want to sleep with her all week and then pack up and go home. It wouldn’t be fair to her,” I said.

“But I thought this was something you did a lot,” Allard said.

“Far from it,” Fritz weighed in. “I saw David in LA. For an actor, he showed remarkable self-restraint. He’s not a little angel, but I was surprised he slept with this girl.”

“But you had girls coming out of the woodwork at camp. There were the girls from Duke, then you brought a couple from home, and finally there was that actress,” Allard pointed out.

“I didn’t sleep with any of them at camp,” I said, adding the qualifier.

“I’m confused. Dave said you ate breakfast with Houston Texan cheerleaders and then when I came into the room ... well, you were there.”

“If you want to spend time with Kelly, don’t let me stop you. I just want you to know she’s a nice girl,” I said.

“Do you plan to not see her anymore?” Allard asked.

“I’ll see her, but not for sex. M.E. and I are starting to become friends.”

He threw a face. I understood that she wasn’t attractive, but she was a sweet girl and just weird enough that I liked hanging out with her. I guess I felt she was like an abused puppy that needed some attention. It wasn’t that I felt sorry for her, it was more that I could see someone who needed a friend.

We were eating our lunch in the Hampton Inn breakfast room when we spotted some of the guys from our team in North Carolina. Trent and Mitch pulled up chairs.

“Did you see who else was on our team?” Trent asked.

“No; why?” I asked.

“We got the young kids.”

Of the 40 players taken, all would be seniors or entering college except for three players. One was a sophomore and there were two juniors. We were divided for now into two teams of 20—the Stars and the Stripes—and only 20 of us would make the final cut to represent the USA in Monterrey.

“That must mean they’re good,” I said. “Leave it to Coach Kingwood to find us the best players for our team.”

We finished our sandwiches and went to the conference room where our team, the Stars, was meeting. Coach Kingwood made us all give up our cell phones so there would be no distractions. We each received a binder that we would use while we were here.

The room was set up with classroom-like seating. Allard and I picked seats next to some of our old teammates on Pride. Coach Kingwood counted noses and started the meeting right on time. I smiled when he walked back and locked the door. It seemed we were two short. This reminded me of the Elite 11 football camp.

“There are a couple of items I want to talk about before we head over to Minute Maid Park,” Coach Kingwood started, and then there was a rattling of the door as someone tried to come in.

One of the coaches went to deal with it.

“I don’t think I need to say this to you, but I expect you to be on time. That’s the last I’ll say about that, because from now on if you’re late, you don’t play. I think you can figure out that if you don’t play, you won’t be making the team,” he said, making his point.

“Let’s talk baseball. I want you to run to score. Sometimes you might not be aware of other play that is occurring on the field,” he said as a video began on the screen behind him. “This clip shows you exactly what I’m talking about. I want to reinforce to you to pay attention to your coaches and trust them to get you in position to succeed. I want you aggressive on the basepaths and to put pressure on the defense.”

The video showed the batter hitting the ball to left field with runners on first and second. It was obvious the left fielder would catch it on the hop. The lead runner made it home while the play at third was close. The third base coach was frantically waving his arm to hustle and then slide.

“Did you see how close that play was? W. I. N., win. That is something I talk about every day. Write that down,” he said.

We got our binders out and wrote out the letters down the page.

“What’s. Important. Now. ― W. I. N. or win.”

We wrote the words out before he continued.

“The baserunner on first never looked to the field to see what the left fielder was doing. He was focused on his task in that moment. That task was to pick up as many bases as he could. If he’d done like so many base runners do and slowed down to make sure the ball hadn’t been caught on the fly, he would have been out. Instead, he focused on his third base coach and trusted him to get him the most bases. He showed good hustle getting around the basepath. Team Pride heard this enough: attitude and effort. If you show those two qualities and play within the moment, we will have success.

“I want you to think about something. If we’re down by a large margin ... where does our comeback start?” he asked, and paused. “It starts right now. It starts with your head in the game. It starts with each pitch you throw. It starts with a quality at-bat. It starts with you making the proper play in the field or on the basepath. It is locked in the moment. This is how we will win. Attitude and effort combined with W.I.N.

“It’s not about us saying we’re going to score five or six runs to catch up. It’s now ... plus the next now ... plus the next now. It’s about keeping focused on the task at hand, and we will have the outcome we desire. That is about you setting goals. You know you’re at point A and you want to get to point B. Now how are you going to get there? What are the steps along the way? Now, what is that? That’s the process. That’s W.I.N. That is ‘What’s Important Now,’” Coach Kingwood explained.

He then familiarized us with international play. In high school, most games were seven innings. In international play, we would be playing a full nine. There would also be a designated hitter. This was how we played before in the first tryouts, so it wasn’t a surprise. He warned us that we were representing our country and good sportsmanship was expected.

“This week we will play six games starting tonight and going through Sunday. Do not expect to play all the games. Everyone will get a shot to play, some more than others. The goal is to halve your numbers so we have twenty for the national team. We may not take the best if we feel they aren’t a good fit for the team,” he explained.

We then watched video of past international play so we had a better idea of what to expect. The whole time we watched, he kept coaching us. I liked how Coach Kingwood did things.

Eventually, the two laggards were let into the room. I wasn’t surprised when one of them was Dave. I think the fact that he had to wait to get in, plus the embarrassment of everyone staring at him, got his attention.

“Third row, I need you to follow the equipment manager and help him load everything we need on the bus. We leave in fifteen minutes. Dawson, I need you to stay for a minute,” Coach Kingwood said, and then dismissed us.

He waited until we were alone.

“I understand you won’t be here on Saturday.”

“Yes, sir. I’ll be in LA for the ESPY Awards. I’m one of six that are competing for the Gatorade Male Athlete of the Year award.”

“Do you think that’s more important than this?” he asked.

“If you tell me you need me here, I’ll stay. I’m warning you, though: if you do, you have to tell my mom.”

He smiled.

“No. I was just giving you a hard time. If you go, you’d better win.”

“I wouldn’t be going if I didn’t think I had a chance.”

“When we get to the park, I want you to lead them in warm-ups. I want them used to you being in charge on the field.”

“Yes, sir.”


As the bus pulled up to Minute Maid Park, the home of the Houston Astros, I stood up and walked to the front of the aisle.

“When we get off, grab your gear and get it to the dugout. We’ll stretch and do a little running to get the blood flowing. We only have so much practice time today. I know that the majority of the players that will make the final team are on this bus. Let me give you some advice from someone who’s gone through a few camps similar to this. Everything counts. Hustle, support your teammates and take everything seriously,” I said.

“You heard him. Get moving,” Coach Kingwood said.

I took them out to center field where everyone grabbed a partner and stretched. I grabbed the kid that had been late with Dave to be my partner. His name was Tristan Pratt and he was the youngest player here. Once we were done stretching, I gathered them around.

“Baseball is not a slow or static sport. When playing baseball, the actions are centered on power, acceleration, explosiveness, and movement. I see too many ballplayers half-ass it because the game can have long periods when you aren’t involved in the action. Coach Kingwood was correct when he talked about ‘what’s important now.’ The point he was trying to get across was that you have to keep your head in the game and when something happens, you need to react—explosively. That’s one reason warming up your body and stretching out is important.”

I started them off doing runs of ninety feet, the distance from home to first. Then I had them do exercises that both Shiggy and my speed coach had taught me: high knee lifts, lateral side skips, and fast feet.

We then split up and grabbed our gloves. I went with the outfielders to do drills. We started off with little round cones in a straight line behind me. Coach would toss the ball over my head and I was supposed to turn and run straight back to catch the ball over my shoulder. This was similar to what Coach Haskins did with me, so I did fine.

Tristan was up next. As the ball went over his head, the coach called out, “Crossing it.”

That meant he had crossed the cone line and not run straight back. If you crossed the cones, you had to fade back to get into position to catch the ball. It was all in the details. Tristan seemed nervous, but I quietly pointed out it was just baseball, and with my encouragement, he relaxed. I’d guessed right. The younger players had some real talent.


Before the game, I was able to talk to M.E. She’d been invited to be our batgirl because her brother was on the team. She’d talked her mom into allowing her to bring Kelly with her.

“Has Kelly talked to you?” I asked.

“About her huge crush on you? I told her to tell you about it.”

“We did more than talk,” I said.

I could see the hamster had fallen off the wheel in her head by the blank look she gave me. I wasn’t sure if she didn’t know what I was talking about or what. I waited for her brain to re-engage as she figured it out. Then I watched as she went from pissed, to curious, to mystified, to finally a blank stare.

“Are you okay?” I asked, concerned.

“If you were just looking to get laid, why not do it with one of those cheerleaders?”

“That would be my normal operating procedure,” I admitted, and then took a deep breath. “She came to my room and one thing led to another.”

“ ... one thing led to another,” she mimicked my voice in a snarky way.

I wanted to laugh. She did a good impression of me. I knew that if I did, she would never talk to me again.

“I’m sorry,” I said, and went to my new move ... the freezing, wet, sad puppy with a quivering lip.

Maybe the whining-puppy sounds were a bit much.

“Jerk!” she said, and gave me a shove.

“You can’t be mad at me,” I said, getting down on my knees by the dugout.

Other players started to notice.

“Get up,” she hissed, and tried to walk away.

I pulled a Cassidy move and wrapped her leg with my arms and legs so she couldn’t leave.

I made more whimpering-puppy sounds and she looked around. Now everyone was staring at us.

“People are watching!”

{whimpering puppy noises}

“Okay, I’m not mad at you.”

I jumped up, did a little dance, and then licked her face. In my defense, that was what Duke would have done. She tried to swat me, but I dodged her. By now people were laughing at us and I could tell she was having a hard time not smiling. When a small smile finally touched her lips, I picked her up in a hug and swung her around.

“I’m going to pee!”

I let her go and she smacked me.

“If you’re done flirting with the batgirl...” Coach Kingwood said.

“Yes, sir.”

“Take the lineup to the umpire.”

He’d kept the lineup of the first game under wraps. I think he gave it to me so I could share it with the team. I made a loud whistle to get everyone’s attention and waved them in.

“Coach gave me the lineup,” I told them when they gathered around.

Batting Order / Name / Position
(1) David Dawson – Center Field
(2) Mitch Underwood – Shortstop
(3) Dave Gordon – First Base
(4) Shane Bays – Designated Hitter
(5) Royce Greene – Third Base
(6) Nick Madigan – Right Field
(7) Tristan Pratt – Left Field
(8) Patrick Welch – Catcher
(9) Logan Greene – Second Base
Allard Hensley – Pitcher

I took the lineup card over to the plate umpire. He already had the lineup for the Stripes and gave me a copy. I dutifully returned to Coach Kingwood.

“I take it I’m your new Bob,” I said to him, referring to my host-brother and batboy in North Carolina who had the scoop on everything.

“You seem to be handling your new duties well.”


The crowd at Minute Maid Park was disappointing. We drew about as many people as we did in North Carolina, but here it felt like the park was empty. Two thousand fans didn’t even make a dent in the over forty-thousand-seat ballpark.

The park wasn’t set up for the long ball. To straight center field, it was 435 feet with a 25-foot wall.

We were up first. Coach Kingwood pulled me aside to give me directions before I went out there.

“This first game will set the tone for the rest. Expect them to challenge you on the first at-bat, and I want you to show them that we’re going to own them.”

I chuckled.

“What’s so funny?”

“I can just hear Dave saying ‘you can’t say that’ about owning the other team.”

“Get your head in the game,” he said, getting serious. “Expect them to throw you fastballs early. If you get one you like, I want you to tear the cover off it.”

I nodded and trotted to the batter’s box.

“You ready for some baseball?” I asked.

Everyone ignored me. I closed my eyes to visualize my five steps for hitting. When I opened them, I felt myself drop into the zone and took my stance. Their pitcher put his toe on the rubber and came to home. Everything slowed down as I saw him overstride to get as much as he could out of the ball. I knew when it came out of his hand that I was swinging. If I’d waited a split second to decide, it would have been too late. Later I learned that they clocked the pitch at 96 miles per hour, probably the fastest pitch I’d faced in live batting. I was lucky that the Booster Club had bought top-quality pitching machines, so I was prepared for a pitch that fast.

I knew that if my mechanics were correct, this ball would fly a long way. I admit that I put a little extra in the cut as I swung at the ball, but when I heard that satisfying sound of a well-hit ball, I knew I hadn’t needed to.

“Shit!” was the eloquent response from their catcher.

It was hit dead center field, so I ran hard to first, thinking that even my best-hit ball might not make it out. The center fielder ran back and then just stopped, turned, and watched it. I did a little hop when it disappeared over the fence.

Our bench was waiting for me when I came home. I received my congratulations and saw Coach Kingwood tip his hat to me.

Our bats didn’t come alive until the fourth inning when we put four on them. I had a weird night at the plate. I batted five times and only got one hit. They walked me four times, which turned out to be a mistake because I stole second three times and accounted for two more runs. We won 6–3 to ‘set the tone,’ as Coach Kingwood put it.


They’d set up a pizza buffet with salad and soft drinks for both teams. I didn’t feel like eating pizza that late. To tell the truth, it didn’t look all that good. I got permission from Coach Kingwood to go back to the hotel. Fritz pulled the car around and we went back.

When he dropped me off, Kelly was sitting in the lobby, reading a book. She saw me and smiled. I planned to slow things down, but when she stood up and smiled at me, I had second thoughts. She just looked so happy that I couldn’t find it in me to turn her down.

“Take me upstairs,” she told me.

We stood outside my room while I fished for my key card. I knew it had to be in my duffle bag.

“Are you sure about this?” I asked.

“God, yes. I’m sure about this.”

Kelly grabbed my duffle bag and reached in. As if by magic, she found the key card and pushed it into the slot. She grabbed me, dragged me into the room and pushed her body against mine as I leaned against the closed door. She pulled my head down to capture my lips. Her hands ran all over my arms and shoulders. I wanted to throw her down right there in the entrance hall and have my way with her on the hotel carpet.

“You’re so good-looking,” Kelly said. “You have the nicest eyes I’ve ever seen.”

She pushed her chest against me and I felt her nipples drill into my chest.

“Do you feel that?” she asked.

“Yes.”

“Feel how much I need you. How much I want you.”

I felt my desire ratchet up.

“Yes, yes,” I managed to get out.

“Do you want me?” she asked.

“God, yes,” I hissed.

“Say it. Say you want me,” she ordered.

“I want you.”

Her mouth, reckless and possessive, found mine. I picked her up, took her to bed, and gently laid her down. She watched as I undid my jersey to take it off. I then took off my protective t-shirt so I was bare-chested. I reached down and unbuttoned her shirt with one hand, as I let my fingers of my other hand linger tantalizingly on the top of her breasts. She squirmed as I teased her chest.

Kelly sat up and pulled her shirt and then bra off. When her breasts were finally exposed, I leaned down and lavished them with attention. She groaned and whispered my name. ‘Say my name, say my name,’ I sang in my head.

“Please,” she begged.

“Please what?” I asked.

“Please.”

“Do you want me to touch you ... here?” I asked as I cupped her big firm breasts and ran my thumbs over her extended nipples.

“Yes,” she hissed.

“Here?” I asked, letting my right hand slide down her belly as she squirmed with passion.

“Oh, yes.”

“Do you want me to go lower?”

“Please.”

I undid her jeans and slid my hand inside her panties. My fingers slid through her bush and I found her aroused sex.

“Oh, yes,” she groaned.

“Here?” I asked as my voice became gravelly.

I toyed with her delicate folds with my long thick fingers. She whimpered as I slid inside her. She was ready for me.

“I love your pussy,” I announced.

I half expected that my coarse words would have shocked her, but she just moaned louder as my fingers pushed deeper, filled her, stretched her, and stroked her. I found the rough little patch on the top of her wall and began firmly to rub her G-spot. She was losing her mind as she made little yelping noises and said my name over and over again.

“David, David, David ... I want you,” she begged.

I worked my magic and helped her reach her first one. Enough with the preliminaries, I decided. She saw me take the rest of my baseball gear off. While I did that, she got naked, and I grabbed a condom and put it on.

When I turned back, I took her in. There was raw lust radiating from her every pore. I crawled on her and felt myself sink into warm, slippery, goodness. If I thought the first time was good, I’m not sure what you would call this. I settled on fun. Kelly wasn’t in the same class as my girls back home, but I wouldn’t turn her down. What was it that Kendal’s grandpa said? If they’re passing around pie, you eat pie. If she wanted to have sex with me, I would have sex.

I heard the keycard enter the door, and Allard came in.

“I hoped you two were here,” he said as he began to get undressed.

The Alpha Male in me surfaced.

“Wait your turn,” I said, not interested in sharing at the moment.

He lay back on his bed and stroked his cock as Kelly and I had sex. It was distracting, to say the least, and I found I just wanted to get this over with, so I went to pound town. Dear lord, Kelly liked that. I had to clamp my hand over her mouth before her screams got us in trouble.

I felt the wonderful feeling deep inside, slammed home one more time, and went rigid as I felt nirvana overcome me.

“Damn that was hot,” Allard observed.

I rolled off Kelly and got up to take care of the condom.

I came back to find her in Allard’s bed as she rode him. I noticed he hadn’t put on a condom.

“Dude, condom,” I said, holding one up.

“No, I’m good,” he announced.

“You met my son, right?” I asked.

Allard wasn’t happy, but he put it on. I went and took a long hot shower.


Wednesday July 13

After breakfast, we had our morning meeting in the conference room. The coaches showed us highlights from yesterday’s game and pointed out what we needed to work on. One of the plays that failed was a rundown between first and second. That’s where a runner is caught in no-man’s-land between bases and the defense tosses the ball back and forth until they catch him.

The Stripes base runner took a big lead at first and must have had a brain cramp when the pitcher tried to pick him off because he didn’t even try to get back to first. When Dave caught the ball, he did what he was supposed to do, run towards the base runner to either tag him or when he got closer to second, toss the ball. Dave ended up hitting the runner in the back and he was safe at second.

“When we hit the field today, we’ll practice rundowns. I just want to point out that Dave did almost everything right, but he wasn’t in a position to make a clean throw. From looking at where Mitch is at short and where Dave ran, it’s clear that we haven’t played enough together to make this play. Both Mitch and Dave should have taken an inside line,” Coach Kingwood observed.

What you didn’t do in a rundown was follow right behind the runner down the base path. The best approach was to be a couple of steps inside the base path. That did two things for you. The first was that it gave you an unobstructed throw to the other fielder and would have prevented Dave from having to either throw over the base runner or hit him with the throw. The second was that if there were other runners on base, you could both see them clearly and have a clean throw if they took off. If you set up outside the base path, you might have the runner between you and where you wanted to either see or throw.

He then told everyone that we were mixing up tonight’s lineup. All the players who didn’t get to play last night would start tonight. The only one that he would keep in the lineup was me, but I would be the designated hitter and bat fourth. The plan was for everyone to get a chance at playing and in my case, show off my hitting in the cleanup spot instead of leading off.


When the meeting was over, we took the bus to Urban Youth Academy where they had a couple of ball fields for us to practice on. We got one and the Stripes practiced on the other one. I led our group off the bus and warmed them up.

“Dawson, you’re with the infield today,” Coach Kingwood announced.

When he had the infielders gathered around, he told us what we were going to do.

“I want David to act as the base runner because if you can get him out, everyone else will be easy.”

“He won’t be a problem,” Dave said confidently.

Silly boy, he should never have challenged me like that. I planned to make him eat those words.

The idea behind a rundown is to get the base runner to run towards the other base. The fielder covering the base is supposed to begin to run towards the oncoming runner. The idea is that you toss the ball to the fielder and the base runner has to stop to turn around and run back. This gives a huge advantage to the fielder because he’s already running and doesn’t have to change directions, making it an easy play.

For me as the base runner, this was a game of tag. In my head I was hearing MC Hammer singing You Can’t Touch This as I put on my running cleats.

“In the first scenario, I want David to get a lead at first, and when Allard makes his move to first, David takes off as if to steal second,” Coach Kingwood directed.

I took a nice lead and waited for Allard to make his move. When he did, I made a big show of going to second. Dave wasn’t taking any chances and fired the ball to Mitch at short. I only took one big step towards second and ran back towards first. In my head, fireworks were going off and they were having a parade in my honor as I did a happy dance on the float. What I showed to the rest of the world was an encouraging look for Dave. I was a team player, after all.

“You have to get the base runner moving. Do it again, but let’s make sure David is actually forced to second,” Coach Kingwood taught.

On the next play, I stood there when the ball got to Dave and smiled at him. Dave got a determined look and began to jog towards me. I ran backward. I was about halfway down the baseline when Dave pulled the ball out of his glove and tossed it to Mitch. As soon as he started to throw, I exploded back towards first where someone was supposed to be covering the bag. No one had thought to cover first, and I beat Mitch by a mile as he tried to run me down.

To his credit, Coach Kingwood kept his cool. He sent me to the outfield to practice while he worked with the infielders on fundamentals. This was basic stuff that they’d all learned in Little League. After thirty minutes, he was satisfied they could catch me, so I was brought back.

They soon learned what my speed coach had been teaching me. I could stop on a dime and be going in a different direction at full speed in the blink of an eye. If they weren’t going full-out, they couldn’t catch me. If they did it right, I really didn’t have a chance. That didn’t mean I was easy on them. Finally, Coach took pity on me when he saw I’d sweat through my jersey and pants in the Houston heat. I think I drank a gallon of water.


Tonight’s game was at the Urban Youth Academy. This was more like playing a game at the park than at a stadium. It was a nice setup, but there was very little seating for fans. I was glad my family and friends hadn’t made the trip. They might’ve been standing the whole game.

Coach Kingwood sent me out to exchange lineups. When I came back, he wasn’t happy. The Stripes were using the same lineup as they had the night before.

“It looks like they’re determined to get a win,” I observed.

“That wasn’t what we talked about ... uh ... forget you heard that,” he told me.

“Don’t worry about it. You won’t lose to them until Saturday,” I predicted.

He shook his head and then gave me a curious look.

“You’ve never lost a game with me in the lineup,” I said with a big smile.

“Go away and leave me alone,” Coach Kingwood said.


We huddled up before we went to bat in the first inning.

“They want this game bad. I want you to be on your toes and remember W.I.N. Each pitch, each moment, have your head in the game. Focus on good things happening. If something bad does happen ... shake it off. And something else to keep in mind: we have a secret weapon. Every time Dawson starts, we win,” Coach Kingwood said.

 
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