I saw Mitchell in my second class of the day and immediately looked down at his left hand. It was a nasty shade of blue and had a lump on it. I looked at him in a panic.
Mitchell read my expression and laughed as he waved for me to sit down. "It's ugly, I know. But nothing broke so it's not bad news."
I frowned as I sat in my seat. "Not bad news doesn't mean good news."
Mitchell shrugged. "Instead of being out for the rest of the season with a broken bone, I'm out for two weeks with a contusion. It's kind of a small win."
I did the math in my head. "You'll be back for Servite."
He nodded. "Until then, I'm on ice and Tylenol. Probably do workouts with Drew that doesn't involve catching. Or stuff like weights and push-ups."
I reached out to pat his shoulder with pity. I knew what was coming for him.
Mitchell was taken aback. "What's that look for?"
Sean laughed. "I think Jake thinks you'll be running the whole time."
Did I give myself a headache looking over some formulas I’ve found related to baseball? Absolutely. Do I regret it? You bet, but I was already committed to writing this. Jake just likes math too much.
Do you guys think that’ll be the end of Noah’s catcher career? Hehe.
Thanks for the gifts: Eugene, prophett, Stan, NovaxD, and Netherworld!
See you guys tomorrow, gotta start laying out the game plan for their next one.