TIW my take on 77

Trying to finish up DS3, one more challenge to write up and then I can work on publishing it. Here's my take on TIW Challenge 77 (see the 4 original stories here...http://theironwriter.com/challenge-77/ - Jordan Bell won this challenge by the judges decision.)

Ted's Lucky Cap

(77 - A Suit of Armor, A Pitcher’s Mound, Gluten Free, Locke’s Socks)


Jeff sat there in the dugout eating his apple baked gluten free oatmeal cake and stared out through his taped up presription glasses.
"Hey, Ted! How many are we down?"
"Three runs and four players."
"Eh? Four players?" Jeff continued to grind his way through his snack. He was up to the plate soon and needed the energy.
"The way that pitcher's throwing, you'll need a suit of armour out there. Never seen so many body hits."
"I did hear something about this guy being the 'hit by pitch' champion last season."
Another victim got hit, falling to the ground as the small crowd groaning in sympathy. The umpire shouted back to the pitcher about going easy on the body shots but all the guy did was stand there on the mound and shrugged his shoulders.
"Lousy pitches."
"I remember when you tried a few up on the pitcher's mound, Jeff. Couldn't even get the ball to the catcher."
The remainder of the oatmeal cake went down the wrong way and another player had to punch him in the back to stop him choking to death. Once he'd got his breath back, Ted continued.
"But they're up by three. And we're only in the second."
"Good point. I guess you gotta get out there and show that guy what you're made of, Ted." Jeff laughed, knowing Ted had some of the worst batting stats in the club's history, with .185 last season and a struggling .206 in this.
"Nah, my lucky cap ain't feeling right today. Think I'm gonna do as coach says, hit for a single and get those bases loaded." Ted turned his moth-eaten cap around and around on his head. It had so many patches, Jeff wondered whether any original part still existed.
"That cap of yours is like Locke's sock."
"Whose sock? It's a cap not a sock. Why the hell would I put a smelly old sock on my head. And who's Locke? Does he play on first base?"
"No, that's Hu."
"Who?"
"Yeah, him, the Chinese guy."
"Oh, him."
"No, I'm saying that there's nothing left of that lucky cap of yours."
Ted inspected his cap and nodded.
"Same as this team. We’re the only members left from the old team who won the league two years ago. Is it the same? No, it ain't."
"Nebrowski! You're up!" shouted the coach to Ted.
"Damn," whispered Ted under his breath.
"Want me to hold your hand, Ted?" asked Jeff, drinking his plain milk.
"Hold my hand? No way. Looks like you struck out there, Jeff, ha! Nah, I'm gonna go and hit that pitcher for a home run."
"Yeah, go for it, Ted. You're a great player, a wonder. We wonder why you're here." The rest of the dugout laughed with Jeff as Ted walked to the plate. One curveball and a slider later, Ted hit the third pitch, a changeup, for a home run.
"Way ta go, Ted!"
"It's the cap, Jeff, the cap!"