MLBPP 07 Success Mode - From Alvin's Eyes

dishnet34 · **Posted:** Sat Mar 26, 2016 6:03 pm

Chapter 6 - Intros and Arrogance

It was now the last week of August, and the start of my second year with the Tulips. Since Toby became captain, the morale has decreased a little, and I know I wasn’t the only one upset by this turn of events. However, we were getting new first-year players in today, so I was definitely intrigued to see who we brought in.

Toby called the meeting to order. “OK kids, it’s time to meet the new members of our team! You’re first, Brad.”

Brad, who I believe was either my age or a year younger than me, had the look of a dude who probably drank 5 Red Bulls and dumped a whole tub of designer whey into his mouth…that morning. He had red-orange hair in what looked to be a haircut that a mad scientist wouldn’t even want. However, I will give him one thing: his looks were consistent with his personality, just by the way he entered in like a miniature Incredible Hulk.

“I’m Brad Bradley! Just call me Brad!” Brad yelled. “I love baseball! Baseball’s my love! I got power to spare! Lotsa power!” I could tell this shtick was going to get annoying real fast, and boy did it.

“What’s wrong with this guy?” Toby lamented, “Why does he keep repeating his words?”

Brad continued, however, “I play third base! My position is third!”

“Hey kid,” Toby said, “knock it off with the repetition.” This remark, albeit somewhat polite by Toby’s standards, did not please Brad, however.

“Me?” Brad yelled even louder now, “You think I talk funny? Am I talking funny? Talking normal won’t express my feelings! Won’t express my passion!” Brad was practically in Toby’s face now, which prompted him to ask Brad to not “stand so close to ME.”

“Sorry! I’ll work on it! I’m really sorry!” Brad apologized, backing away from Toby, “I won’t stand too close! Never stand close, not me!” He then proceeded to stand close to him again. Whether or not that was a conscious choice, I’m not sure. At this point, I had to ask myself, where do we get these guys?

After Brad was introduced, it was time to move on to one more introduction. “You’re next, Mark,” Toby said. A younger-looking person, maybe 2 years my junior, walked in. He had hair that looked like it came out of a bag of lettuce, and had glasses on. He seemed to compose himself very well, and seemed to be – shockingly – a normal human being.

“My name’s Mark Wiseman,” he said with a smile, “I played catcher in high school. Nice to meet you guys.” We all welcomed him to the team, with some people, mainly B.J. and Marvin, looking as relieved as I am about someone who didn’t have a loud personality.

“Just remember,” Toby said near the end of the meeting, “that I’M the CAPTAIN and we’ll all get along fine. Any questions?”

I decided to pipe in with a question. “Captain, when’s our next practice?” Becky informed us that the next practice was next week on Monday. It didn’t seem to jive with Toby’s schedule, however.

“Bah,” Toby scoffed, “Monday’s not good for ME. Monday’s the opening day for Pro Bowler 4!” I looked up the movie later, and apparently it was a comedy about a pro bowler’s angst and loss of friends after he misplaces his favorite ball. Alrighty, then.

“Talk about self-centered…” Becky said out loud to herself.

“Look, you guys can practice whether I’m here or not, right?” Toby asked, annoyed.

“Sure,” I replied, “and you’re cool with me being the starting pitcher?”

“No way,” Toby snipped back, “There’s only one starter on this team…and you’re looking at him!”

“What?”

“I’m the CAPTAIN! My word is LAW!”

I left the meeting that afternoon highly annoyed. I can’t stand that Toby guy! At this rate, the team’s going to fall apart…isn’t it?

dishnet34 · **Posted:** Sun Mar 27, 2016 1:49 pm

Chapter 7 - The Exhibition

The next month, after our first practice of the week, Becky called another impromptu team meeting, which was quickly becoming a common occurrence. I was wondering what it would be this time. Somebody leaving the team? The coach giving out a newer and crazier practice schedule? A bird nesting in the locker room? Shockingly, it was none of these things.

“Listen up, everybody,” Becky announced, “I have good news! Ever Victory University wants to play an exhibition game with us.”

“Oh really?” Toby said, “So why did you – the assistant manager – know about this before ME, THE CAPTAIN?”

“Forget that,” Mark wondered, “what I really want to know is why a team of that caliber wants to play us?”

“Can’t say that,” Becky said, just as puzzled as Mark was, “but it’ll be a good chance to find out if we’re tournament material.”

“All right!” Toby said excitedly, “This sounds like an ideal situation for the debut of our legendary starter…ME! This will mark the beginning of a new era, the Golden Age of Toby!” I stared off into space at the thought of Toby starting a game for us. He was barely at practice more than once or twice a week for the last month, so I had my doubts we were going to do well.

The game occurred the next day, and I didn’t get any action at all, possibly because the game itself didn’t go too well for us. When we got back to the entrance of our dugout, Toby was the first to speak up.

“Look guys, I’m sorry!” Toby exclaimed, dejected.

“‘Sorry’ doesn’t cut it,” Becky replied, “That’s the first time I’ve ever seen a game called after the first inning.”

Off in the distance, I heard someone yelling out my name. It wasn’t B.J., or Marvin, and it certainly wasn’t Milton. It was…one of the players from the other team? As we got closer to each other, I got a chill up my spine. It was someone I never expected to see again.

“Patrick?” I called out.

“Why weren’t you pitching?” the frosty-haired World Gatherings catcher asked pointedly.

Why was he asking about why I wasn’t pitching? “That’s none of your business,” I replied.

“Wassamatter?” Patrick mocked, “Couldn’t find anyone to catch your Mirage Knuckler?”

The Mirage Knuckler? He knew that I hadn’t used my signature pitch ever since he was my personal catcher in high school. He helped me develop that special knuckleball, and we both knew that if Patrick wasn’t catching me, things would go south. I remember that is what happened to me during a game where Patrick didn’t play. I got shelled so badly in that game, it gave me a wake-up call.

“Listen, Alvin,” Patrick continued, “I taught you everything you know. I made you!”

“Dream on, man!” I replied.

“Heh heh, whatever,” Patrick snarked back, “You know I’m the only one who can catch that special pitch of yours. How could you betray me for this sorry team, anyway? I’m disappointed in you.”

Patrick left, and B.J. came in asking what was going on. I gave him the whole backstory about Patrick being my personal catcher, how I’m nothing without him, and then he asked me about my knuckleball. I brushed it off as nothing of importance, but it intrigued him further.

“You throw a knuckler?!” B.J. said.

“Yeah, but Patrick is the only one that can catch it.” I hated to admit it, but Patrick was right. He was the only one who could catch it, but he’s on the opposition now. I was toast!

“That’s not true!” B.J. tried to reassure me, “your pitching AND batting are awesome!”

“Yeah,” I replied solemnly, “but they’re not enough to get me to the majors…I need Patrick to shoot for the pros. He’s the only one who can pull my strings, bring out the best-” and right then, B.J. slapped me in the face! What the hell?

“Pull yourself together!” B.J. said, “You’re my rival, remember? I’m striving to be as good as you, if not better! I don’t want to see you like this!”

“What do you want me to do?” I asked, now a bit angry at him, “Are YOU going to be my catcher?”

“Sure!” B.J. yelled, “Why not?!”

“Like hell you can!” I yelled back, “You don’t even know how to put on the chest protector!”

Maybe it was because of our yelling, but Mark came over to us at this point, and claiming he can catch my knuckler. He was pretty confident, even if he was a little hesitant. He said that back in high school, a knuckleball was all his pitcher could throw.

“No offense,” I commented, “but I don’t think you’ve seen a REAL knuckler yet.”

“There’s only one way to find out, then,” B.J. said, “try him!”

Reluctantly, I agreed to at least give Mark a shot. What have I got to lose at this point? That night, Mark and I went out to the field. The sun was quickly setting, with a pink-orange sky that just wasn’t enough to light the field. We found the manual controls for the stadium lights, and got to work.

Mark squatted behind home plate. “I’m ready when you are.”

I went into my windup, and unleashed the first knuckleball I’ve thrown in about 2 years. Because I haven’t thrown one in a while, it bounced right in front of the plate and had enough topspin to catch Mark right where a person, let alone a catcher, shouldn’t be hit. He yelped in pain as he hit the deck.

“Are you OK, man?” I asked, now concerned for his well-being.

“One…more…” Mark said slowly, “Throw me one more…”

“No,” I said, “that’s enough for today. One more like that and the damage could be permanent. I realize you have the guts for this, man, but we’re done for today.”

“OK.” Mark replied reluctantly, “Then let’s try this again tomorrow. I’ll show you I can do it. Tomorrow…” He then fell over onto the dirt, but after a few minutes, picked himself up. It wasn’t a good start to our training, but in the back of my mind, I had a feeling things would work out...

ZeroGibson13 · **Posted:** Mon Mar 28, 2016 12:14 am

Oh man, I love this.

dishnet34 · **Posted:** Mon Mar 28, 2016 10:05 am

Chapter 8 - Secrets

For the next month, Mark and I gradually practiced our rapport on my Mirage Knuckler. We practiced for one or two hours every couple days during the week, throwing somewhere between 20 and 30 knuckleballs each session. By the end of our sessions, Mark would have bruises all over his arms and legs from trying to catch the pitches. However, at the end of October, we decided we were ready to show off that I can throw the knuckleball, and Mark can catch it.

We walked into the clubhouse, where everybody was surprised to see us, since we were been practicing in relative secrecy to the team. “Glad to see everyone’s here,” I said, “Mark, let’s show them what we’ve been working on.”

Everybody stood along the first base line as we got into our positions. I went into my windup, did my pause in the middle, and unleashed my Mirage Knuckler. It floated and dove perfectly into Mark’s glove as he hung on to the pitch. Everybody on the team, save for Toby, was thrilled that we accomplished this extraordinary feat.

Speaking of Toby, he just had to spoil the fun. “Hey, I’M the starting pitcher, remember?”

“Ex-CUSE me?!” Becky snipped back, causing Toby to backtrack pretty doggone fast.

“Oh, I, uh, yeah, I’ll let Alvin start…”

As we got back in to the dugout, B.J. decided to come and congratulate me on my efforts personally. He patted me on my right shoulder, my throwing shoulder, and I felt a sharp pain shoot right through the area. I yelped a bit in pain, but brushed it off as nothing. That is, until Peter, our med student second-sacker, came up to me.

“How long do you think you can hide it?” Peter asked.

“What’re you talking about?” I replied.

“Your shoulder,” Peter said bluntly.

“You can tell?”

“Look, I hope to be a doctor someday. If you keep this up…”

“Don’t tell anybody,” I told Peter. After what I’ve been doing for the last month or so, I can’t let the team down by wussing out with a tender shoulder. It isn’t even that bad! So, I decided to pitch through my tender shoulder, and it turned out to be the right choice. The Tulips surprised everyone, even the local news, by steadily climbing through the standings table. With the leadership of Mark, Brad’s power hitting abilities, and other huge contributions from B.J., Marvin, Peter, Milton, and everybody else, we were tied for first place going into the final game of the year in late May to decide the Sunny League Championship.

And wouldn’t you know it, we were facing the Ever Victory University World Gatherings. Patrick's team.

HunterFox · **Posted:** Mon Mar 28, 2016 8:17 pm

I'm enjoying this story very much. Now somebody's gotta make a Marvin-viewpoint story

Tdud123 · **Posted:** Mon Mar 28, 2016 10:00 pm

"Chief said to clean the toilet, so I did" - Marvin log, 2016

dishnet34 · **Posted:** Tue Mar 29, 2016 8:41 pm

Chapter 9 - Redemption

Tulips Park had arguably its biggest turnout it ever saw for the big game against the World Gatherings. Both berms were filled to the brim, the seats behind the backstop were first-come, first-serve, and the outfield standing room areas were so stuffed, a makeshift batter’s eye had to be created. And here I was, warming up in the bullpen for arguably the most important game of my career.

As I threw my repertoire of pitches to Mark in warm-ups, I started thinking about what’s at stake in this game. I could pitch the Tulips to its first Sunny League championship ever, but most of all, I needed to prove I can pitch well without Patrick. I threw one more fastball and headed back to the dugout. And wouldn’t you know it, he was waiting for me and B.J. over there. Because of course.

“How’ve you been, Alvin?” Patrick asked. “Are you done with your misguided little attempt to discover yourself? Haven’t you figured it out yet? You can’t shine unless you’re with me!”

“I chose this team because I wanted to!” I said.

Patrick took that as me finally growing a pair. “Whoa, OK there, hotshot, you think you stand a chance against me? I made you, and I can break you. Did you forget that?”

“With my own strength and my own skill,” I replied, finally putting to use the philosophy courses I was taking at the University, “I’ll show you I can win!”

I knew it didn’t sound quite right coming out of my mouth, and thankfully B.J. corrected me, “You mean with everyone’s strength and skill together, don’t you?” I nodded back in approval.

“I can’t believe this,” Patrick responded, “it’s like being bitten by the family dog. It looks like I’ll have to re-train you. Get ready.”

The game started soon after Patrick left. For what it’s worth, we had a lot of behind-the-scenes team-building events throughout the year, which really brought each of us together as kind of a family. That, along with a rousing pre-game speech from Coach Stone, translated by Becky, of course, helped us to be competitive throughout the game and keep it close.

It was tied at one apiece as we headed to the bottom of the eighth inning. Marvin led off with an infield single that was nothing more than a swinging bunt. After a bunt by Peter moved him up to second base, B.J. came up to the plate. I have to admit, he really improved a lot throughout the season, batting .305 with 12 home runs over the course of our 54-game season. And that improvement showed when he hit a 2-1 changeup to souvenir city beyond the center field wall to put the Tulips up 3-1.

With that score in hand, I took the mound for the top of the ninth. I was doing very well for myself, with 7 strikeouts, most of them off my Mirage Knuckler.
However, I had not been able to retire Patrick all game long, getting three hits, including a home run, in three at-bats. I got the first two batters out in the inning, but proceeded to walk the next two batters on very close pitches. Because of my wildness this inning, Coach Stone came out to talk to me, with Becky in tow, of course.

“Coach is asking you give up the ball,” Becky translated through Coach’s harumphs, “You’ve walked the last two batters, and Patrick’s coming up.” I had a choice to make. Do I want to try and get Patrick out and end this game, or risk him hitting a homer to give them the lead? I wanted to prove myself to him, and I’ve failed thus far. I made my choice.

“I want Patrick,” I said bluntly to Becky and Coach Stone. This seemed to convince the both of them, and they went back to the dugout. I knew Toby was lurking in the bullpen, and didn’t want to risk him blowing the game for us. Patrick stepped up to the plate, darn near giddier than a French schoolgirl at the situation presented to him.

I started him off with a fastball that just caught the outside corner for strike one. The next pitch, a slider, got away from me a little bit, but Mark managed to save it from going to the backstop. Ball one. The next fastball I threw was a mistake for the ages. Patrick absolutely crushed it down the left field line. It kept curving toward the foul pole, curving, curving…

“FOUL BALL!” screamed the third base ump.

I let out a sigh of relief. Patrick mouthed a few curse words to himself. I stared into Mark for his next pitch selection. He put down two fingers. I knew what this was. I went into my stretch, and let go my Mirage Knuckleball, the first one I threw to him all day long.

Patrick swung right through it for strike three.

I threw my glove into the air in excitement, as Mark ran up to the pitcher’s mound to hug me. My teammates came by soon after, along with Coach Stone and Becky to create a mosh pit near the mound. It was the first championship for the Tulips baseball team, and we were heading to the College Kings Series! During that period, I managed to give a wink and a smile to Patrick as he sulked back to the dugout.
After the fanfare had died down and most everybody had left, Patrick came up to B.J. and I. “You’re telling me I lost to Alvin?” he asked, bewildered.

“I’m not the same Alvin you used to know,” I replied. I had grown a lot these last couple years, with my relationship with Becky, the whole saga with Toby becoming captain, and Mark mastering catching my Mirage Knuckleball. Plus, I had made friends with most of the team.

“You’re wrong!” Patrick exclaimed, “No one knows you better than I do!”

“That was the old me,” I said, “Now I’m surrounded by friends.”

“I see…” Patrick trailed off.

“I have to thank you, though,” I said, “I wouldn’t have discovered baseball if it wasn’t for you.” Patrick made no reply, so I continued, “But from here on out, things will be different. I’m going to stick to baseball with my own strength, and with the help of my friends.”

“We’ll meet again next year,” Patrick said, “I won’t lose next time. I’ll be returning the favor!” And with that, he headed back to his team’s clubhouse. However, our next stop would be the College Kings Series in Hawaii!

ZeroGibson13 · **Posted:** Wed Mar 30, 2016 12:35 am

Oh man, this is so dramatic and suspenseful

dishnet34 · **Posted:** Wed Mar 30, 2016 2:14 pm

Chapter 10 - College Kings?

Our improbable season continued on through the College Kings Series, held at Rainbow Beach Stadium in Honolulu, Hawaii. It was a small stadium by Major League Standards, but fairly big for college teams like us. Located off a beach near the Pacific Ocean, it had a tiki bar beyond the left field bleachers, and a pool with a mini-hotel beyond the center field wall. It was paradise for all of us on the Tulips, and despite us soaking up maybe a little too much sun – myself included – we made it to the finals of the College Kings Series, against the Champion Rings of Universe University.
Before the game, Coach gave a rousing speech, with just a couple “Harumphas,” as per usual, with Becky translating them.

“Now comes the final game,” she started, “We’ve made it this far. Let’s make our first entry into this tournament our first Championship, too!” Everybody cheered as we took the field to take on the team that a lot of experts say was the best college baseball team out there.

We held our own for the most part, but found ourselves down 1-0 after the first inning. That was because Toby, who started the game due to me going the distance against the World Gatherings, gave up an RBI double to one of their batters. That score stayed the same until the top of the sixth, when Brad hit a three-run home run off of Billy Ocean, the Champion Rings’ star pitcher, to give us a 3-1 lead. The Rings got a run back to make it 3-2 in the bottom of the inning, ending the day for Toby and Coach making the decision to bring me in for the seventh.

I pitched pretty well, keeping the best team in college baseball off the board during my work in relief of Toby. I eventually found myself in the same situation I was in against the World Gatherings, pitching the ninth inning with a chance to win the College Kings Series. I easily retired the first two batters in order.

I went to a no-ball, two-strike count on the final batter of the game. The energy in that stadium could not have been more electric. Everybody was cheering as I went into my windup. I raised my arms above my head, paused, kicked my foot up in the air, paused again, and threw my Mirage Knuckler.

CRACK.

I fell to the ground in agony as the pitch painted the outside corner for a called third strike to end the game. However, the sound of my shoulder separating – I knew it was separated once I heard that sound – could be heard throughout the stadium. The game was over, but you could hear a pin drop in the stadium. The entire team jumped out of the dugout not to celebrate, but to check on my well-being.

“Oh my god Alvin,” Becky said, horrified, “are you OK?!” All I could do was weakly shake my head.

“We need to get a trainer out here right now!” B.J. yelled. Coach agreed with multiple “hmms” and “harumphs.”

As I left the stadium and headed for the hospital, all I could think about were a couple of things. For one thing. I helped pitch my team to the College Kings Series championship for the first time! That was great! Another thing, however, was that I sacrificed myself for the team all season long, pitching through my shoulder injury. It finally gave way at the absolute worst time. These thoughts kept swirling through my mind at a rapid pace. Was this the end of my college baseball career? Over after just two years?

Would I ever play baseball again?

TO BE CONTINUED?

ZeroGibson13 · **Posted:** Wed Mar 30, 2016 6:21 pm

Lol, poor guy

LetsGoMets77 · **Posted:** Wed Mar 30, 2016 7:22 pm

ZeroGibson13 wrote:

Lol, poor guy

that's why I'd say if some guy broke his arm too

ZeroGibson13 · **Posted:** Sun Aug 21, 2016 7:37 pm

And Calvin Lockhart was born.

Also, this thread isn't a hentai thread I hope you know.

GoTwins24 · **Posted:** Sun Aug 21, 2016 7:45 pm

Rewop Sorp wrote:

Chapter 11: Ah, shit

I, Alvin Lockhart, was at the beach with Becky. We were talking for a while, and I went to go get a drink from the water fountain. As I went back to our towel we layed out, I found Becky unhooking her bathing suit. Immediately, blood rushed to my penis and my throat was dry and wet at the same time. She then took off her bottom, and I saw her godly body and nude tits jiggling up and down. I took my pants off and we went at it. However, something terrible happened. As the shocked onlookers looked at us in awe, I cummed up her vagina. I forgot to wear protection.

Still better than Fifty Shades of Gray

LetsGoMets77 · **Posted:** Sun Aug 21, 2016 8:46 pm

Rewop Sorp wrote:

Chapter 11: Ah, shit

I, Alvin Lockhart, was at the beach with Becky. We were talking for a while, and I went to go get a drink from the water fountain. As I went back to our towel we layed out, I found Becky unhooking her bathing suit. Immediately, blood rushed to my penis and my throat was dry and wet at the same time. She then took off her bottom, and I saw her godly body and nude tits jiggling up and down. I took my pants off and we went at it. However, something terrible happened. As the shocked onlookers looked at us in awe, I cummed up her vagina. I forgot to wear protection.

more please

Kungfupandacam · **Posted:** Sun Aug 21, 2016 10:26 pm

Rewop Sorp wrote:

Chapter *(censored)*

And I thought I was the cancer.
Thanks prediction now start an RPG about drugs and get skittles to be Marco Kennady again.
viewtopic.php?f=1&t=8308&hilit=Marco+Kennedy

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