Chapter 5: The First Practice
By the following morning, Rafael already knew one thing.
Making the team had been the easy part.
The moment he stepped onto the field, he understood why Daniel had told him not to celebrate too early. Players were already moving through warm-ups, throwing between bases and taking turns inside the batting cage. Nobody stopped what they were doing when Rafael arrived, but several of them looked over anyway.
Miguel Reyes was the first to approach him.
The center fielder was already sweating despite the early hour, a baseball tucked beneath one arm.
"You’re Rafael, right?"
"Yeah."
"Miguel."
They shook hands.
Miguel looked him over for a second. "You’re the guy who hit those balls yesterday."
Rafael smiled. "I guess."
"You guess?"
Before Rafael could answer, another player walked over.
Carlo Mendoza adjusted his cap and glanced toward the batting cage. "He’s being modest."
Miguel laughed. "That’s what I thought."
Rafael looked between them. "Do I have a reputation already?"
"Not yet," Carlo said. "But give it a day."
The three of them walked toward the rest of the team.
Alex quietly studied everyone as they moved.
Miguel had quick feet and good balance. Carlo carried himself like someone who trusted his defensive instincts. Joshua Villanueva, the first baseman, was built more like a power hitter and was currently taking swings in the cage. Andre Salazar was working at third, while Nico Ramirez was chasing fly balls in left.
Behind the plate, Paolo Dela Cruz was already shouting instructions at the younger players.
"Ethan, your feet!"
The second baseman looked back.
"Again!"
Ethan Navarro groaned but reset his position.
Alex almost smiled.
This was a real team.
Not a professional clubhouse filled with players whose careers depended on every pitch, but a team with its own habits, arguments, strengths, and weaknesses. He had missed that more than he expected.
Daniel blew his whistle.
"Bring it in!"
The players gathered around him.
Rafael stood near the back, listening.
Daniel held his clipboard against his chest. "We have a school tournament coming up. Before anyone asks, yes, we’re taking it seriously."
Joshua raised a hand.
Daniel looked at him.
"What?"
"How serious?"
Daniel stared at him. "Serious enough that if you keep asking questions instead of listening, you’re running after practice."
Joshua slowly lowered his hand.
A few players laughed.
Daniel continued. "We’ll have several schools competing. Some teams are inexperienced. Some aren’t. That doesn’t matter. We prepare for everyone the same way."
Rafael listened carefully.
A tournament.
That was exactly what he wanted.
A real game meant real pitchers. Real pressure. Real mistakes. It was the only way Alex could determine exactly how much of his old ability had survived inside Rafael’s body.
Daniel pointed toward the batting cage.
"First group. Miguel, Carlo, Rafael, Joshua."
The four players moved toward the cage.
Joshua looked at Rafael as they walked.
"So you’re the new guy."
"Apparently."
"I heard you hit three balls over the fence yesterday."
"Two."
Joshua raised an eyebrow.
"Only two?"
"The other one hit the fence."
Joshua stared at him.
Then he laughed.
"Okay. I like you."
Rafael stepped into the cage.
Daniel stood outside with a bucket of balls.
"Normal swings first. Don’t try to impress anyone."
Rafael nodded.
The first pitch came from the pitching machine.
He watched it.
Then swung.
CRACK!
The ball flew into deep center.
Miguel looked up.
Joshua stopped chewing his gum.
Carlo glanced at Daniel.
Daniel simply reached for another ball.
"Again."
The second pitch came slightly inside.
Rafael turned on it.
CRACK!
This one went toward left.
Joshua slowly removed the gum from his mouth.
"Okay."
Miguel laughed. "You said you liked him."
"I still do."
The next pitch came.
Rafael let it pass.
Daniel nodded.
Another came.
Rafael drove it into the opposite-field gap.
The players watching from outside the cage grew quieter.
Alex wasn’t trying to show off. He was testing something more important.
Timing.
The machine was predictable, but the body wasn’t.
His eyes were still seeing the ball the same way. His brain still recognized speed, rotation, release point, and trajectory almost automatically. The difference was in the final movement. Rafael’s legs were younger but less developed, his core lacked the strength Alex had once relied on, and his swing had to work around those limitations.
Still, the bat found the ball.
Again and again.
Daniel eventually stopped the machine.
"That’s enough."
Rafael stepped out.
Joshua looked at him.
"How long have you been playing?"
"Not long."
Joshua shook his head. "That’s getting annoying."
Rafael laughed.
Daniel pointed toward the field.
"Defense."
The team split into positions.
Rafael went to right field.
That alone felt strange.
Alex had spent twenty seasons there.
He knew exactly how an elite right fielder should position himself, how to read a hitter’s swing, how to judge the first movement of the ball, and how to take the most efficient route.
But Rafael’s body couldn’t simply become his old body because his mind remembered how to play.
The first fly ball went toward the warning track.
Rafael moved back.
His first step was slightly late.
He corrected quickly and caught it.
Daniel watched from the infield.
"Better."
Another ball came.
This one sliced toward the foul line.
Rafael reacted earlier and adjusted his route.
The ball dropped into his glove.
Miguel called from center.
"Nice!"
Rafael threw it back toward the infield.
The throw landed short.
Alex felt the weakness immediately.
His arm was still the problem.
The strength wasn’t there yet.
Neither was the throwing mechanics.
Daniel noticed it too.
"Don’t force the throw."
Rafael looked over.
"Use your legs more."
Rafael nodded.
He knew.
That was one of the strange things about having Alex’s memories. He could identify almost every weakness immediately, but knowing how to correct something didn’t mean the body could execute it perfectly.
That would take work.
And for once, Alex didn’t hate the idea.
He had spent twenty years being the finished product.
This body gave him something he hadn’t experienced since he was a kid.
Room to improve.
Practice continued for another hour.
Rafael worked on defensive positioning, throwing mechanics, and baserunning. He wasn’t the fastest player on the team, but his instincts made up for some of it. He started moving before the coaches gave instructions, taking better angles and anticipating where the ball would go.
By the end of practice, Daniel looked exhausted.
The players weren’t much better.
Paolo dropped onto the grass beside the dugout.
"My legs are dead."
Nico laughed. "That’s because you spend half the practice yelling instead of running."
"I need to communicate."
"You need to breathe."
Paolo pointed at him. "That’s part of communication."
Rafael laughed with the others.
It felt natural.
Too natural.
For a moment, Alex forgot that he had once been Alex Sterling.
He was simply Rafael, standing with teammates after practice, listening to them argue over something meaningless.
Then Mia appeared near the fence.
She waved when she noticed him.
Rafael raised a hand.
Miguel noticed.
"Friend?"
"Yeah."
Joshua looked over.
"She’s here almost every day?"
Rafael frowned. "How would I know?"
Joshua grinned. "You looked."
"I looked because she waved."
"Sure."
Rafael shook his head and walked toward the fence.
Mia handed him a cold bottle of water.
"You look exhausted."
"I am."
"Your first real practice?"
"Yeah."
She smiled. "Still worth it?"
Rafael looked back at the field.
His teammates were gathering their equipment. Daniel was talking to Paolo near home plate, while Miguel and Carlo were carrying a bucket of balls toward the storage room.
"Definitely."
Mia studied him.
"You really like baseball."
Rafael paused.
The answer should have been simple.
Instead, he felt something strange in his chest.
"I do."
Mia smiled.
"Then I hope you get to play in the tournament."
"I will."
"You sound very sure."
Rafael looked at the field again.
"I have to."
Mia didn’t ask why.
She simply smiled and walked beside him toward the school building.
Behind them, Daniel stood alone near the mound.
He watched Rafael leave.
The kid was still raw. His throwing, his defense, and his conditioning all needed work.
But his hitting was different.
Daniel had coached enough players to know the difference between natural talent and something harder to explain.
Rafael didn’t swing like a teenager discovering baseball.
He swung like someone who already knew what the pitcher was trying to do before the pitch arrived.
Daniel looked down at the notes on his clipboard.
Rafael Santos — RF
He added another line beneath it.
Batting order: undecided.
Then he thought about the tournament.
There were schools in the area that had played together for years. Their pitchers had experience. Their fielders knew how to communicate. Their best hitters could punish mistakes.
Rafael didn’t have that experience.
But that might not matter.
Very dangerous, Daniel thought.
That afternoon, Rafael sat at home with the baseball glove beside him.
The family was eating dinner when Rafael finally decided to tell them about the tournament.
"Ma, Pa... we have a game next week."
Lia smiled. "Are you playing?"
"I think so."
"You think?"
Rafael looked at his father.
"Coach hasn’t finalized the lineup."
Manuel nodded. "Whatever happens, don’t push yourself too hard."
Rafael smiled.
"I won’t."
He knew that was only partly true.
Later that night, Rafael returned to his room and placed the glove on the desk.
He picked up the notebook.
At the top of a blank page, he wrote:
Tournament.
Underneath it, he listed the things he needed to improve.
Throwing.
Conditioning.
Defensive movement.
Speed.
Then he stopped.
He looked at the list for a few seconds before adding one more line.
Find out how good this body can become.
Alex stared at the words.
For the first time since his rebirth, the future didn’t feel like something he needed to understand before moving forward.
He didn’t know why he had been given this life.
He didn’t know whether there was a reason Rafael’s memories had remained inside him.
He didn’t even know what would happen if someone eventually discovered how different he really was.
But he knew what came next.
A tournament.
A baseball field.
A team on the other side.
And a chance to find out how much of Alex Sterling was still inside Rafael Santos.
He closed the notebook.
Soon, the real test would begin.
End of Chapter 5