There are many traditions in sports manga and anime, but none is more sacrosanct than the “calm before the storm” episode before the big game.  And as big games go, this is certainly the biggest in Mix so far.  It’s interesting in fact that Adachi chose to match up Meisei with Seinan in the semi-finals, because the story really runs much deeper with them than with Kenjou.  I mean, it seems very likely in narrative terms that Meisei will win – much less uncertain than if the were the finals – but I’m not completely convinced just yet.  I’d bet on them for sure, though.

Eisuke is kind of a microcosm of Mix as a whole.  One foot always in the past, one in the present.  He loves his current family and treats them well, but (as he should) he remains emotionally torn up by the loss of his wife.  Finding her old softball bat was a trigger mechanism to send him spinning off to the past again, dragging Otomi with him as he often does.  But his mind is mostly focused on what’s to come at Meiji Jingu, so much so that on the day of the game he races off to the park on his own (without Chekov’s cell phone) rather than wait for the supporters’ bus.

It’s a major recurring theme in Mix that adults are always a prisoner of their past in some ways – they can’t get away from it.  Nishimura-san, Ooyama, Harada – they’re all torn between the past and the present.  Maybe I’m getting a bit too philosophical about all this but I wonder if there isn’t an element of self-insertion for Adachi here.  I mean, he’s a legendary mangaka in the evening of his career, writing a new series that’s a sequel to his most successful (though not best) work from four decades earlier.  The future is the domain of the young, the past of the old (and getting old).  It’s in the present where they co-exist, and not always peacefully.

Nishimura-kun may have helped the enemy more than he intended, because Natsuno-kun’s form is now so similar to his that he makes a perfect batting practice pitcher.  Especially when Souichirou orders him to move a step closer to the plate. Meanwhile Touma has been having nightmares about what happened last year, his error having cost his team a chance that only his heroics gave them in the first place.  As for Harada, all pretense about the mysterious stranger is seemingly dispensed with at last – he knew who he was talking to. With no obvious distractions in sight (I don’t put it past Adachi to use an unobvious one) this may finally be the moment where Shouhei hears the truth about who he is.

Seinan reflect the mood of their manager to be sure.  Nishimura-san is probably too obsessed with this matchup based on his behavior, but his confidence seems unshakable.  Right up until he sees Touma on the mound warming up, someone quite different from the pitcher he’d scouted so thoroughly.  In this battle of aces it’s hard to imagine many runs being scored – one or two from either side will probably win it.  It might even come down to a battle of wits between managers, and it’s interesting to speculate on just who what would favor…