You Are Not Spare Parts

Back in the box, he stopped fleeing the pain. He took an inside fastball, tracked an outside slider, and held on a low breaking ball. With the count full, the pitcher placed a fastball on the edge. Lin did not try to clear the fence. He shortened his swing and drove the barrel through the ball, sending it into the right-center gap. Single. The next round produced another line drive through the defense. Luo circled his clipboard. “October isn't a home-run contest. Lin starts at second. Han starts at third. You're both in.” Han stared, then laughed and hooked an arm around Lin's neck. “You could've told me. I thought you were actually taking my job.” “We are competing,” Lin said, breathless. “The opponent is just on the other side.”