“We’ve never done anything together that I’ve actually cared about. I hate these dumb drills.”

“Take this seriously, bro. All of this matters. I am sick of you always complaining.” I said in irritation as I grabbed the next ball out of the bucket. I flipped it to him, and he whiffed. He shook his head, slammed the bat on the plate, shuffled his feet, and looked up.

“Focus, Travis,” I stated softly.

I watched his eyes squint as he stared intensely at the ball in my hand. I could hear the stickiness of the pine tar while his hands twisted and tightened over the grip. I flipped the ball to him.

Woosh! Ping!

The ball sprang off the bat and flew past the screen. I heard the whizzing of the ball as it bulleted by. I snapped my head around and almost fell off the bucket in an attempt to follow the ball in the air. The ball became a white dot in the distance as it ascended into the sky. It felt like forever until the ball reached its maximum height and fell back to the ground, over the fence, near the parking lot.

“Good…”

I saw a slight smile form on his face, even with his effort to fight it. He tapped the plate and got right back into his previous stance. He looked again at the next ball in my hands with his fierce eyes, so hard that a hole was almost burned in it.

“Replicate…” I said as I tossed it to him. He turned, swung his bat around his body, and smashed it. The ping of the bat was ear-piercingly loud, and the ball jetted to the outfield and slammed against the fence.

“Bam baby! That’s it right there!” I exclaimed with exhilaration. “It all pays off, man, every little second!”

He smiled, but this time, he didn’t try to resist it.