The Diamond Champs (3 page)

Kim stepped out of the box, wiped his forehead, and heard the coach say, “Choke
up on the bat, Kim!” He choked up on the bat and stepped into the box again. His palms were sweaty.

Steve whirled in the pitch. The ball shot in shoulder high, and Kim swung.

“Strike three!” yelled the ump as Kim's bat fanned the air.

It was over, the Red Arrows winning, 12 - 4.

“You guys and gals did fine,” Coach Stag said happily as he called the team around him. “There is nothing to be ashamed of.
I'm really proud of you, Kim.” His eyes were almost invisible behind his dark sunglasses as he looked at Kim. “For hardly
ever having played baseball at all before this year, your performance rates an A plus. Tell your dad that I'll make a baseball
player out of you before the year's out!”

Kim smiled.
But I wonder why he'd think
my
father might be interested
, he thought.

“I want all of you here tomorrow evening,
and every evening through Friday at six
P. M.
sharp,” the coach went on. “Our first league game is a week from today, and I'm hoping that you'll make a good showing then,
too. Okay! See you tomorrow!”

Not once during the week had anyone failed to show up at practice. Coach Stag was proud of the team's dedication, and promised
that if the players kept up that spirit they might just finish the season as champions.

There was something else that he wanted the players to learn, and that was a simple series of signs. They were “wait out the
pitch,” “hit away,” “bunt,” and “steal.”

By six o'clock Monday, when the Steelheads played the Herons in their first league game, the players were as familiar with
the signs as they were with their own names.

The Herons had first bats, and did nothing. Russ Coletti, who was pitching
this game, served up left-handed pitches that set them down one, two, three.

Eric, leading off for the Steelheads in the bottom of the first, drew a walk, then raced to second on Brad's sacrifice hunt.
He perished there as A. J. struck out, and Larry flied out to center.

Two errors and a hit put the Herons on the scoreboard for two runs in the top of the second. It wasn't till the bottom of
the third that the Steelheads came alive again, spurred by Eric's walk, Brad's double, Larry's triple, and Cathy's single.

In the bottom of the fourth Jo led off with a double, a blast between left and center fields, and scored on Russ's Texas Leaguer
over short. The score was 4 - 2, in the Steelheads' favor, as the game went into the fifth inning.

“I can't believe it!” A. J. exclaimed as he ran out to the field with Kim. “We're ahead, man!”

“And by two runs!” Kim smiled, even though he had done nothing in the batting department so far to help the Steelheads.

Then the dam collapsed. The Herons got onto Russ's pitches and hit him for four runs, one of which was a homer by Dick Algren,
the Herons' eighth batter in their lineup.

“Man, I can't believe it, Kim!” cried A. J., as he ran off the field with Kim. “Four runs! Just like that!”

“Well, it isn't over yet,” said Kim, who had more confidence now in the Steel-heads than he had ever dreamed he would. “We
were ahead before, we can get ahead again.”

Cathy, leading off, pulled a walk. Then Kim, swinging and missing the first two pitches, connected with the third one.
Boom
! Instantly he knew that he had just hit the most solid drive in his brief baseball career. Dropping the hat and starting
for
first, he watched the ball sail deep out to left field, then disappear over the fence. A home run!

He circled the bases, crossed the plate, and received an overwhelming ovation from the fans and his teammates.

“Man!” cried A. J. as he shook Kim's hand. “I can't believe it! You really busted that one, man!”

Kim grinned. “I can't believe it either,” he admitted, half in a daze.

The two runs, all that the Steelheads earned that half inning, had tied up the score.

Then the Herons came back again, scoring three runs to boost their tally to nine.

“This is our last chance,” said Coach Stag, clapping his hands to stimulate his charges. “Let's go, gang! Let's go get 'em!”

Eric flied out to left field, and Brad grounded out to short. Things didn't look good.

Then A. J. connected with a sharp single
through the hole at short. Larry, with a triple in the third inning, connected with a triple again! And Cathy, already with
a single and a walk to her credit, banged out another single, scoring Larry!

“One more run will tie it up!” yelled the coach enthusiastically, and every member of the team stood up, feeling that same
enthusiasm, that same excitement.

“Another homer, Kim!” Eric shouted, as Kim stepped into the batter's box. “You can do it, kid!”

Kim hit the ball solidly, but it was a direct shot to the left fielder.

He was out, and the game went to the Herons, 9 - 8.

I
JUST REMEMBERED THAT
I won't he able to make practice tomorrow,” Eric said to Kim as they started to leave the ball field together.

“So what?” said Kim. “Coach Stag isn't going to boot you off the team just because you can't make practice.”

“Yes, but I hate not to show up without telling him,” Eric replied disappointedly.

“Well—” Kim glanced over his shoulder. “He's gone now. So call him up. He'd appreciate it.”

“I think I will,” agreed Eric.

It was almost two hours later when Kim received a phone call from Eric.

“Know what? I don't think Coach Stag lives in Blue Hills,” said Erie.

Kim frowned. “How do you know that?”

“His name isn't in the phone book. There is no
Stag
in there.”

“Well, how about that?” said Kim. He paused. “Eric, have you ever asked your parents if they know Coach Stag?”

“Yes, I have, and they don't,” he said.

“Okay. Well, don't worry about not letting him know that you can't make practice tomorrow. I'll tell him you tried to call
him but couldn't find his name in the book.”

“Okay, Kim. Thanks.”

Kim hung up, wondering:
If Coach Stag doesn't live in Blue Hills, where does he live? The nearest village is Croydon, which is at least ten miles
away. He could live in the country, but even so his name would be
listed in the phone directory if he had a phone
.

Maybe he lives in one of the half-dozen other towns listed in the directory
, Kim thought.
If not, he just doesn't have a phone, that's all
.

He picked up the directory and checked each town thoroughly for
Stag
. There were two listed in the town of Hayden,
Stag, Henry
, and
Stag, Kermit
, the only Stags in the book.

Maybe they're relatives
, he thought.
Maybe they know where Gorman E. Stag lives
.

Vaguely worried, Kim put the directory away and walked into the living room, hoping he could forget about Coach Stag. He didn't
know why he should let the coach bother him so, anyway.
No one else on the team seems concerned about him, so why should I be
? Kim thought.

But it was impossible to erase the coach
from his mind. Maybe it was because of his natural bent to be suspicious. His favorite books were detective stories and mysteries,
science fiction running a close second. He had often daydreamed about working in a crime laboratory when he grew up. Dusting
for fingerprints and searching for clues seemed like an exciting career, he figured. At the same time he'd help bring criminals
to justice.

Of course Coach Stag is no criminal
, Kim told himself. But
why
he picked up a brand new team,
why
he included an inexperienced player like Kim on it, and
why
he was anxious to have a good winning ball team were questions that needed answers. And only Coach Stag knew them.

Someday I'm going to get up enough nerve to ask him
, Kim promised himself.

At practice the next afternoon he told the coach about Eric. “He tried to phone you,”
said Kim, “but he couldn't find your name in the phone book.”

“I don't have a phone,” the coach admitted. “Eric is all right, I hope?”

“Yes. He just couldn't come today, that's all. He didn't tell me why.”

“Okay.” The coach smiled. “Thanks for telling me, Kim.” He turned to Don Morgan. “Get the bats and balls out of the bag, Don.
Hurry it up. We're a little late.”

As Don began to loosen the string of the equipment bag, Kim considered asking the coach the questions that were constantly
gnawing at his mind.
Why did you pick up a team, Coach? Why did you ask me to be on it? And why are you so anxious to have a good winning ball
team
? But at the last minute he found his tongue tied. While he fought a mental battle to regain his courage, the coach's loud
voice shattered his thoughts.

“Okay, everybody except Brad, A. J. and
Larry, out on the field!” he ordered. “Doug, throw 'em in!”

Batting practice was starting. After the players batted around twice, the coach knocked out flies to the outfielders while
Bernie Reese hit grounders to the infielders.

The practice, a very thorough one, lasted an hour and a half. When it was over the coach informed the tired players that practice
tomorrow would be at Lansdale Field, the other baseball park where the games were being played.

“Can you give Eric that message, Kim?” asked the coach as he started to carry the equipment bag to his car.

“Yes,” said Kim.

“Fine. See you all tomorrow. Same time.”

Mr. Reese unlocked the trunk of the car and the coach laid the bag into it. Then they entered the car and drove away.

“Brad, did you ever practice so much last year when you played baseball?” Kim asked wonderingly, so tired he wanted to lie
down.

“Never.”

“Me, either,” said A. J. “The way Coach Stag is working us out you'd think that he was
serious
about us winning the championship!”

Practice the next day lasted only an hour and fifteen minutes. The whole squad was there except Coach Stag. There was no explanation
of his absence, hut the practice went along very well. Mr. Reese seemed to understand the game as well as Coach Stag.

If anybody knows where the coach lives, Mr. Reese should
, thought Kim.

“Mr. Reese, where does Coach Stag live?” he asked. “I've looked for his name in the phone book, but I can't find it.”

Mr. Reese, lifting the filled equipment bag to his shoulder, glanced at Kim.

“On Beaver Street,” he answered. “Six seventeen Beaver. Why?”

Kim shrugged. “I just wanted to know.”

W
HEN THE STEELHEADS
tangled with the Magpies, both teams were hitting well as the game went into the top of the fourth inning. The Steelheads
led, 4 - 3. Doug was pitching, and the Magpies were at bat.

Crack! A
Magpie hit a shot over second base for a clean single. Another single and a walk loaded the bases. And Kim, in right field,
couldn't believe how a situation could become so grim so quickly.

Doug proceeded to take his time now,
obviously not happy by the sudden turn of events. He stretched, and threw.
Crack
! The ball, an outside pitch to the right-handed hatter, sailed out to deep right. Kim backed up, his heart rising to his
throat as he saw how high the ball had climbed into the blue sky. He waited for it to drop. It was like a white pea, gradually
growing larger as it kept coming down. Holding his glove in readiness for it, Kim held his breath.

The ball hit the heel of his glove, dropped to the ground, and bounced away. Kim bolted after it, scooped up the ball, and
heaved it to first base. He could see that a runner had crossed the plate, and that a second runner was on the way home.

A. J., catching Kim's throw, turned and whipped the ball home. The throw was high. The runner slid in to the plate and scored.

Five to four, Magpies. Runners were still on second and third.

Why wasn't that ball hit to left field, or center field
? Kim thought despairingly.
Why did it have to be hit to me
?

A double scored two more runs before Doug fanned two batters. The third out came on a pop fly to Eric. Seven to four.

“I don't know why you ever asked me to play, Coach,” said Kim cheerlessly as he came in and sat down on the bench. “I should've
caught that ball in my hip pocket.”

“If you did, you'd have major league scouts looking you over.” The coach smiled. “Listen, Kim, playing baseball is like a
lot of things in life, except that it has something extra to it. Fun. Otherwise, it's just as competitive as anything else
you'll ever come up against the rest of your life. I know that it's been very new to you, and that's good. You've learned
the game, and the rules. You've met with some successes, and some failures. Kim, it wasn't all an easy
thing for Hank Aaron to have broken Babe Ruth's home-run record, you know. He had gotten out many times before that had happened.
It's the same with football or basketball players, the same with doctors, lawyers, teachers, cops—everyone who tries to make
something of himself in this big, competitive world of ours knows something about failure.”