Bases Loaded (10 page)

“I bought the whole package, so I have eight of the small wallet pictures,” Heidi said. “But after I give one to my grandparents, Diane, the mailman, and some of my neighbors, I don't think I'll have any extras.”

I stood there not knowing what to think.
Even the mailman gets one before me?
Then I saw a smile start to spread onto Heidi's face.

“I'm just kidding! Sure, let's trade,” she said. Just then Graham made it back.

“She's going to cut one out at home and bring it to me tomorrow,” he proudly informed us. We all walked home together laughing about what the mailman would think if we asked him to trade pictures.

Another week passed, and it was like Mrs. Gibson had never even been gone. The best part was that during those two weeks, we won three more games and only lost one. Now we were tied with the Tigers for second place. David's team still hadn't lost once.

On Tuesday we had to play a tiebreaker game against the Tigers. The winner would play the Pirates on Saturday in the championship game. I was so nervous I struck out three times. I wanted to hit the ball so badly I was swinging at everything, even when coach gave me the “don't swing” signal.

Fortunately for us, everyone else on our team was playing great. Graham was hitting like crazy, and Kevin got a home run. It was a close game, but we ended up winning by one run. Our entire team ran out, jumped around, and cheered like we had just won the World Series. We had made it! Saturday we would be in the championships.

Thanks to Graham, the championship game was the talk of our class for the rest of the week. He had invited everyone who wasn't playing to come and watch. David and Brian were promising a win for the Pirates. Graham and I walked home on Friday with a group of kids and couldn't stop talking about it.

“We're definitely coming to the game,” Diane said.

“Yeah, we wouldn't miss it,” Heidi added. I was nervous about having everyone there to watch us play.

“Well, if you have something else going on, it's okay if you can't come,” I said.

“What?” Graham said. “Of course, you're all coming. We need all the fans we can get. It's time that David and those stupid Pirates go down.”

“I know. I'm sick of that guy bragging about how they're going to destroy your team,” Diane said.

“Even though I won't be able to play, I'll be there,” Zach said. “I wouldn't miss this game for anything.” His finger was still bandaged up.

“Well, I can't wait for David to get up to bat,” Graham said. “I've been working on my insults for him.”

Graham and I played a little catch that afternoon, but I went home early to make sure I got enough rest for the game. I went to bed right after dinner, but I had a hard time sleeping. All I could think about was the first game this season when David struck me out. His crazy laugh kept echoing in my brain.

When morning came I could smell bacon cooking. I jumped up, put on my uniform, and ran into the kitchen. I loved bacon and eggs, and it seemed like the perfect breakfast for an athlete.

“Hey, slugger,” my dad said. He was sitting at the kitchen table reading the paper. “Ready for the big game?”

“Yeah, I guess so.”

“Raymond, would you please go tell your sister that breakfast is ready?” Mom said. I hated that job, especially on Saturdays when Geri wanted to sleep in. She was extra grouchy on the weekends.

I huffed upstairs, knocked on Geri's door, and yelled, “Hey, Geri, get up! We're having breakfast.”

“Go away, dorkwad,” she yelled back.

“Mom said to come down,” I replied. “She's making waffles with strawberries and whipped cream.” That was her favorite. I knew it would get her downstairs even if it was a lie.

“Fine, I'll be right there,” she growled. I returned to the table where Mom and Dad were already seated and waiting to start. Geri followed close behind.

“Hey, what's this? Raymond said we were having strawberry waffles with whipped cream,” Geri said, looking at the plate of scrambled eggs and bacon.

“She wasn't going to come down otherwise,” I said.

“Raymond, we don't lie in this house,” Mom said. “I'm sure your sister would have come anyway.” Geri smiled and made a face at me.

“Yeah, well, she lied too,” I said.

“How did I lie?” Geri snapped back.

“You called me a dorkwad.”

“That's not a lie. You
are
a dorkwad.”

“Can we just have a nice meal together without the bickering, please?” Mom said. “Is that too much to ask?”

“No,” I said. “Thanks for making breakfast.”

“What is a dorkwad, anyway?” Dad asked. Mom gave him a stern look.

After breakfast, I called Graham to see if he was as excited as I was. He was already in his uniform too. We decided we would go to the ballpark early as usual. I asked my mom if she would drive us.

“Sure, sweetie,” she said. “How early do you want to go?”

“We want to go now!” I said.

“But you're an hour and a half early.”

“So what? We want to get there before anyone else, to get mentally prepared. You know, to smell the grass and kick up the dirt and sit on the bench silently, thinking about the true meaning of baseball and all that kind of stuff, before anyone else shows up.” Mom looked at me really strangely.

“Well, if that's what you two want, get in the car and I'll take you.”

I ran out to the car and waited while Mom searched for her purse. When we got to Graham's house, he was on the curb. He had his bat in one hand and a ball in the other. His baseball glove was pulled over the end of the bat.

“Good morning, Graham,” Mom said. She clenched her teeth when Graham's bat hit the side of the car as he climbed in.

“Hi, Mrs. Knudson,” he answered. Then he turned to me. “We are going to crush the Pirates.”

“I hope so,” I replied. “Just once, I'd like to beat David at baseball, or anything else for that matter. If we win, it will be the greatest moment of my life.”

“Oh, we're going to win,” Graham said. “I promised Kelly we would. I told her I was dedicating the game to her.”

“Wow, what did she say?” I asked.

“She didn't really say anything,” Graham said. “She must have been speechless. I mean, what can you say when someone dedicates something as massive as the championship game to you?”

“I don't know—nothing, I guess.”

We finally got to the baseball field. Graham's bat smacked the car window as he got out. Mom clenched her teeth again. “We'll see you boys in a little while,” she said.

“Bye, Mom,” I called back as we ran to the field.

We played catch for a few minutes. Then we sat down in the dugout and quietly stared at the field.

“This is where it's all going to take place,
hermano
,” Graham said.

“Yep. The biggest moment of our lives. In just one more hour, I'll be out there pitching to David,” I said. “He'll be laughing and teasing me, and I won't even care. Today, I'll have the last laugh.”

“That's right,” Graham said. “This is the year of the Giants.”

As we sat there staring out at the field, a terrible, familiar sound broke our silence.

“Hey, losers. Stuck on the bench already? You two are probably used to that.” I knew who it was without even turning around. The crazy laugh that followed confirmed my suspicions.

“We'll see who the loser is!” Graham yelled back at David, who was passing by the back of our dugout on his way to the other side of the field. David's team followed close behind him. They were all here early.

“What are they doing here already?” I asked Graham.

“I don't know,” he said. “Warming up, I guess.”

After running a lap around the field, they all hurried to their positions while their coach hit balls to them.

“Take it to first!” the coach yelled, hitting a grounder to the third baseman. The kid picked it up and burned it over to first. “You've got to be quicker than that, Jackson!”

“How could you get any quicker than that?” I said to Graham quietly. I didn't want their coach to hear me. Even though we weren't on his team, I still felt a little scared of him.

“He's just trying to intimidate us,” Graham said.

“What's going on out there?” the coach screamed to an outfielder. “Give me two laps!”

“Sorry!” the kid called back, starting to jog.

“Pick up the pace. My grandmother can run faster than that!” the coach added.

I figured his grandma must have been pretty old, since he didn't look too young himself. The longer we sat there watching the Pirates warm up and listening to their coach scream, the happier we were to be on Coach Parker's team.

Finally our team showed up. We took the field, and Coach hit balls to us. Slowly, the crowd of parents and friends arrived and filled the small bleachers on both sides of the field. Luke's mom opened the snack bar.

Graham elbowed me in the ribs. “Hey, look who's here!” He was pointing to the parking lot.

“No way,” I said. It was Coach Cunningham from the Marlins, the defending champs in the majors. Two of his players were with him. I straightened my hat and tucked in my jersey. I wanted to make sure I looked like a baseball player.

“Five minutes, coach,” the umpire called out to Coach Parker.

“All right, everyone, bring it in,” Coach yelled. We all ran and huddled up in a circle just outside our dugout.

“Okay, team,” he started. “This is what we worked all season for. Let's play our hardest and win the championship! Giants, on the count of three.” We all put our hands in the middle and yelled,
“One, two, three, Giants!”

“Play ball!” the umpire announced.

“ALL RIGHT, TEAM,
grab your gloves and get out on the field. The Pirates are up first,” Coach said. We all ran onto the field. I pitched a few warm-up throws to Graham. I was nervous, but I was ready for this game.

The Pirates' first batter stepped up. Graham gave me a couple of signals. I shook my head until he got to the “fastball” signal. As soon as I let go of the ball, I knew it was a bad pitch. The batter tried to jump back, but he didn't make it in time. The ball hit him in the arm. He threw his bat to the ground and walked to first base, giving me an evil glare the whole way.

“It's all right, bud. Shake it off,” Coach yelled. I looked over at the crowd. I saw my mom, Dad, and Geri sitting by my grandma and Gramps on the top row of the bleachers. My grandma had even brought her special homemade caramel corn. My mom waved. Sitting right in front of them were Diane, Heidi, and Kelly. I hadn't thought Kelly would really come. She had seemed like she was kind of getting sick of Graham. But maybe dedicating the game to her really
was
a good idea.

“Nice pitch, Raymond,” Dad called out to me. “He was too close to the plate.”

I didn't think he was too close—I just threw a bad pitch. Brian's mom seemed to agree with me.

“It wasn't a nice pitch!” she told Dad.

“It was a beautiful pitch!” he answered.

“Listen to the umpire. It was a bad throw,” Brian's mom called back.

Dad waited a few seconds and then said in a quiet but firm voice, “Good pitch.” Geri, looking embarrassed, moved down two rows in the bleachers.

The next batter hit it to third base, but both runners were safe. I walked the next batter, and now the bases were loaded. David was up to bat. Graham could tell I was nervous and ran out to the pitcher's mound.

“Hey, don't worry about David. He's nothing. You just throw good pitches, and I'll take care of the rest,” Graham said. He walked slowly back to his position behind home plate.

David walked up and hit the plate with his bat. “Let's see what you've got, wimp!” he yelled.

“Give him the special,” Graham called out to me.

“Oooh, the special. I'm really scared,” David said, looking at Graham.

“Forget the special. How about the piñata—I know he can't hit that.” Graham laughed.

“You're gonna pay for that!” David said, pounding the plate even harder.

“Let's play ball, boys,” the ump called out.

I started my windup and could hear Graham still talking.

“Swing, don't swing, swing, don't swing,” Graham said over and over.

“Strike one,” the ump yelled. David didn't even swing.

“Oh, was that too fast for you? Give him a slow one, that was too fast,” Graham called out.

The next pitch was high, but David swung as hard as he could and missed.

“Now, David,” Graham said. “Why would you swing at such a high pitch? I'll bet this next one is high, too, and you'll swing at it. Hey, Raymond, how about another high one for the big guy?”

“Shut up!” David screamed.

“Okay, I'll be very, very, very quiet. You won't even know I'm here. I'll just catch this next high pitch without saying a word.” The next pitch was my best so far. It was right down the middle. David looked like he was about to swing, but at the last minute he didn't.

“Strike three, batter's out!” the ump yelled.

“You're dead!” David growled to Graham as he stomped back to the dugout.

That was exactly what I needed. Our crowd was cheering, and I felt better than ever. I struck out the next batter, and we got the next guy out at first.