“Oh my God?! What is this thing on my left hand?!! It’s as if it’s made of … a dead cow!!! … Oh, wait. It’s a glove. OK, I remember those things. I used to wear them all the time … OK, Adam … deep breaths. You. Can. Do. This.”
“Arrrgh! The batter looks like he might swing! On your toes, Adam! ON YOU TOES!”
At least that’s what I assume his inner-monologue to have been.