Bases Loaded

Table of Contents

 

“Last pitch. If it's close, you've got to be swinging, bud,” Coach yelled out. As the pitcher threw the last ball, it looked a little high, but something inside told me to swing. I swung as hard as I could. This time I hit the ball. It flew straight toward center field. There was no way this was going to be a foul ball.

I threw the bat down and raced past first base and toward second. The center fielder yelled, “got it,” as the ball sailed toward him. I rounded first base figuring I was going to be out. Luckily, the ball hit his mitt and fell to the ground. As I got to second base I heard Coach Parker yelling to keep going.

“Slide, slide!” Coach screamed as I got close to third base. Just as I slid, I saw the ball land in the dirt and bounce past the third baseman. As he ran to get the ball I jumped up and ran toward home. I was halfway there when the ball was thrown home. The catcher caught it and stood there waiting to tag me. I quickly turned back and ran toward third base. I could tell this was not going to end well.

For Annette, the best teammate ever

—M.K.

For Bram and Rory,
fellow Kane County Cougars fans

—S.C.

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First published in the United States of America by Viking,
a division of Penguin Young Readers Group, 2009
Published by Puffin Books, a division of Penguin Young Readers Group, 2011

 

Text copyright © Mike Knudson, 2009

Illustrations copyright © Stacy Curtis, 2009

All rights reserved

 

THE LIBRARY OF CONGRESS HAS CATALOGED THE VIKING EDITION AS FOLLOWS:
Knudson, Mike.
Raymond and Graham: bases loaded / by Mike Knudson ; illustrated by Stacy Curtis.
p. cm.
Summary: Fourth grade best friends Raymond and Graham try to avoid the class bully,
have fun with a substitute teacher, and get the attention of the girls they like
while concentrating on winning the Little League Championships.

eISBN : 978-1-101-51323-1

 

 

 

The publisher does not have any control over and does not assume
any responsibility for author or third-party Web sites or their content.

IT HAD BEEN
almost nine months since last year's championship baseball game, but that day still haunted me. Striking out in the first inning, sitting on a wad of gum, and having my mom walk right into the dugout to give me a big kiss for good luck in front of both teams, the parents, the umpires, the snack bar workers . . . everyone. It was humiliating.

But this year was going to be different. I could feel it in my bones, I could smell it in the air—I could even taste it. This wasn't going to be just another year of making it to the finals and then blowing it. This would be the year of winning it all. That's right, I'm talking about the year we would earn the title of Millcreek Little League Champions!

THE UMPIRE PULLED
the mask from the top of his head onto his face and wiggled it around until it fit just right.
“Batter up!”
I slowly walked to the plate, enjoying the moment of my first time up to bat this season.

Things were already looking better than last year. It was a warm Saturday morning in April. The grass seemed greener, the sun seemed brighter, and most important, it was opening day and my mom wasn't here. She had to take Grandma to the doctor. Don't get me wrong, it's not that I don't like my mom coming to my games. My mom's great. It's just that this was the first game since last year's good-luck kiss disaster, and I wanted to make sure it went smoothly and nothing embarrassing happened. My dad was in the stands, but he usually didn't cause too much trouble. He might argue with the umpire now and then or maybe with a parent from the other team, but that's just part of baseball. Plus, he doesn't really get mad when he argues. He just likes to get in the last word no matter what.

Dad had also dragged my thirteen-year-old sister, Geri, to the game. She looked bored as usual. I could tell she didn't want to be there. But that didn't bother me. In fact, it just made the day seem even better. It was like my own little way of getting back at her for always being so mean, without her even knowing.

There was only one slight problem: we were playing the Pirates, and David Miller was pitching that day. Not only is he the biggest, meanest kid our age, but he's also the fastest pitcher in the league. I don't want to brag, but I'm one of the best batters on our team. I can hit off almost anyone. But there's just something different about David. Maybe it's the nasty things he says to me when I walk up to the plate or that crazy laugh of his. For some reason I always play terribly against him. That's another reason I didn't want Mom here. There was no way I could handle my mom being embarrassing and David being mean in the same game.

Finally, I made it to the plate. I tapped my bat against my cleats and then dug my back foot into the dirt. After a few practice swings, I held the bat back and waited for the pitch. Without even one mean comment, David started his windup and threw the ball.

The ball barely missed my head! Luckily, I'd dropped to the ground in time.

“Ball!” yelled the ump.

David just stood there laughing his crazy laugh. I got up and dusted off my pants. I was shaking all over.

“Good eye,” Coach Parker called from over by first base. He scratched his chin through his big, bushy, black beard.

Good eye?
I thought.
I was just trying to save myself from getting hit in the face
. I looked over at Coach. He smiled. He's been my coach since I played T-ball and knows me pretty well. He's Kevin's dad, but even Kevin calls him Coach. He knows everything about baseball. Plus, things like almost getting hit in the face don't bother him. He just says stuff like, “Brush it off and get back in there.” Kevin says that back in high school his dad was the star of the team. Even though the other coaches just wear a T-shirt with their teams' logo on it, Coach Parker always wears a full uniform, down to the cleats.

I took a few more practice swings and was ready for the second pitch. I could hear my teammates cheering. Carlos's parents were screaming something in Spanish to me. They always screamed in Spanish to Carlos when he was up to bat. It seemed to work for him. He was one of our better hitters.

David smiled at me. “Hey, what's the matter?” he said. “Don't have your mommy here to give you a good-luck kiss?” His whole team started laughing. Even some of my teammates laughed.

All right,
I said to myself.
This is it! I'm going to hit this ball so hard David will never make fun of me again
. I gripped the bat tighter and stared back at David with the meanest face I could make.

“Oooh, scary,” David said. Then he threw the second pitch. Again I fell to the ground as the ball came right at me. Unfortunately, as I fell, the ball hit my bat by accident and bounced into the backstop.