Wind Up

by Derek Jeter

  Next up was Elliott, batting for Harry. Elliott had never been much of a hitter, but Derek knew the rules. They said that everyone on the team had to play at least two innings in the field, and bat at least once. It was the same for the Tigers. The rules were the rules, and you went to war with the troops you had left.

  Elliott joked around a lot during practices, and even during games. But he was dead serious now. He looked terrified—of the moment, if not the pitcher. He let two strikes go by, hesitating as he started to swing. Then he swung too early at a changeup—and whiffed.

  Two outs. Cooling his jets at second, Derek felt the tension rising inside him again. They couldn’t afford to let this rally go by—not with the heart of their order batting!

  Ryan was next—one of their best hitters, for sure. Coming through in the clutch, he belted one to deep right that no fielder in the league could have caught! Derek raced around to score the Yankees’ first run. Behind him came Pete, just in time to beat the relay, while Ryan coasted in to third with a stand-up triple!

  Tie game—and the Yankees weren’t through yet!

  Derek knew he was screaming, but he couldn’t even hear himself, surrounded as he was by the crush of his happy teammates outside the dugout.

  Miles came up to bat for JJ—another substitution. Miles had power, even if he did strike out a lot. This time, though, he didn’t need to even swing. The Tigers pitcher, clearly rattled by Ryan’s game-tying blast, had lost the strike zone completely. He plunked the hitter right in the shoulder. Miles jogged down to first, wincing a little as he rubbed his shoulder, and the rally continued.

  Derek turned to watch Avery as she entered the batter’s box. It was all on her shoulders now. Could she handle the weight?

  The pitcher had already seen what she could do with the bat. On the other hand, he didn’t want to walk her and load the bases.

  The count ran full. Then Avery fouled off three straight pitches, before getting the one she wanted, and ripping it into right—for a single that scored the go-ahead run!

  The Yankees went crazy while the Tigers and their fans moaned in dismay. Avery was jumping up and down at first, excited beyond belief.

  Vijay struck out to end the half inning, but nothing could dampen the Yankees’ spirits now. They’d come from behind late in the game yet again—and now they were just six outs away from pay dirt! All they had to do was hold the Tigers.

  But Dave’s team wasn’t 7–2 for nothing. Though down, they were not defeated. And they had the top of their order coming up in the fifth.

  Avery got the first out easily enough, with Pete scooping up a two-hopper and throwing on to first in plenty of time.

  Things certainly seemed to be going the Yankees’ way. But baseball is a quirky game. Sometimes funny bounces happen. Derek was reminded of this fact when the next hitter cued a ball off the end of the bat. It took a crazy bounce, and wound up as an infield hit.

  Okay, no problem, thought Derek. “Let’s get two!” he shouted.

  But it wasn’t Avery at second base now—it was Norman.

  The next batter hit a sharp grounder right at him, so sharply that Norman ducked, reaching in vain for the ball as it sizzled past him. As a result, the Tigers wound up with men on first and second, bringing the pressure on Avery and the Yankees to a boil.

  Derek could see it in her face, and in her body language. He glanced over to the stands, and saw Avery’s mom standing in the back row of the bleachers. She looked like she wanted to run onto the field and rescue her daughter.

  He knew Avery might not appreciate it, but he decided to go over and say something to her. Just something to lighten the moment a little. “Hey! That kid Brad is up next. Give him that funky delivery of yours. It’ll mess him right up.”

  “What funky delivery?” she asked, distracted from whatever she’d been thinking.

  “You know,” said Derek, doing a little imitation with his elbows out like a chicken. “Like you do sometimes on the Hill, for kicks?”

  Incredibly, she let out a laugh. “Oh yeah—that one. Good idea.”

  Derek went back to short, satisfied that he’d done the right thing. At least he’d given her something else to think about. Something she could do—a surprise she could spring that would put her in the driver’s seat and keep Brad off-balance.

  Avery threw out her elbows like a chicken, paused a second at the height of her motion, then threw an absolute dart that went right by the dazed Brad for a strike!

  He shook his head disgustedly, then dug in, ready for more of the same. Instead Avery quick-pitched him, catching him flat-footed for strike two! She quick-pitched again on the next pitch, but this time it was a changeup, and Brad swung right through it! He went back to the bench in a rage, yelling at himself.

  “One more out, Ave!” Derek called to her. “You got this!”

  Dave was up next. His last at bat ever in Kalamazoo, Derek realized with a pang of sadness.

  Avery used her funky motion again, and Dave managed only a weak bouncer to first. Ryan was waiting for it behind the bag—and it should have been an easy third out.

  But once again, a quirky bounce went against the Yankees. The ball hit the bag and ricocheted into foul territory! By the time Ryan retrieved it, the tying run had scored, and the Tigers had runners on second and third!

  Avery looked down at the ground, distraught. She turned in every direction, as if to ask, Why? But Derek knew there was no answer to that question.

  Coach K came out and talked with her. Derek could hear him asking her if she was okay. Avery looked away from him, wincing but insisting she was fine. Coach K looked over to the stands, where Avery’s mom was standing and anxiously wringing her hands.

  That seemed to decide things for Coach K. He took the ball from Avery, leaving it up to Pete to get the Yankees out of this jam. Avery shuffled slowly back to the bench. All the anger, all the fight had drained out of her. She looked beaten.

  Pete hadn’t prepared for this moment. But he was the best hope they had to keep it tied, and snatch victory from the jaws of defeat.

  No such luck. The first hitter Pete faced doubled to left, scoring two runs and putting the Tigers ahead 5–3. Derek’s whole body sagged as he watched them mob each other, already celebrating.

  Go ahead, celebrate, he thought. You haven’t won yet.

  The Tigers weren’t done, though. They put two more runs across before Pete finally got the last out. The inning had been a total disaster, leaving the Yankees four runs down with only three outs left!

  Norman, their number nine hitter, led off. He promptly popped back to the pitcher for the first out. Then Mason hit a grounder that he almost beat out for another hit—but a great throw from Dave across the infield just nipped him in time.

  Derek was the team’s last hope, and he waited patiently for his pitch. When it came, on a 3–1 count, he laced it to left for a clean single. “Come on, Pete!” he yelled, trying to muster the enthusiasm he’d felt an inning ago.

  Pete did manage to hit one hard—but the pitcher stuck out his mitt, and the ball smacked right into the pocket and stayed there!

  One last cruel twist of fate, and the game was over!

  Derek stood on first base, stunned. He couldn’t believe the season had come to such a sudden, disastrous end!

  All the Yankees were somber, hugging each other sadly as they watched the Tigers go wild with joy. Their coach was already dragging a big box of trophies onto the field to give his champions.

  The teams shook hands, but Avery remained on the bench alone, her head buried in her hands.

  “Great game,” Derek told Dave as they shook.

  “It really was, wasn’t it?” Dave said. “Sorry one of us had to lose.”

  “Me too. Hey, you played great, though. Seriously.”

  “You did too. You robbed me twice! I just wish…”

  But there was no time to talk now. Other kids were pushing forward behind them. “See you Monday at school, I
guess,” Dave said.

  “What about going to the range this weekend?” Derek asked.

  “I know we talked about it,” Dave said. “But I’m way behind with my packing, and my folks are getting pretty annoyed about it. So…”

  “Okay,” Derek said. “But if you do get free—”

  “I’ll call you,” Dave said. “You know I will.”

  After the handshakes, Derek went over to Avery and sat next to her. Seeing him there, she reached over and hugged him. Derek could tell she was holding back all the fury and frustration she felt.

  “You did everything you could,” he told her. “Just some bad bounces, that’s all. Your brother would have been proud of you. No—he is proud. You know he is. We’ll get him that trophy next year. You’ll see.”

  But even as he said it, he knew there might not be any next year for Avery. She’d been through a lot this season, taken a lot of abuse and neglect, and put a world of pressure on herself to honor her brother’s legacy. After today would she come back and try again?

  Should she even?

  After a moment she got up and silently walked off toward the stands. Her mother was waiting there, along with Avery’s brother’s two friends.

  Derek found his own family. They all had kind words for him, but they knew how disappointed he was, and didn’t try to sugarcoat a bitter, bitter defeat. Hugging them all, Derek felt better than he had a minute before.

  He knew why, too—everything he’d just told Avery went for him as well. He’d played his heart out and had a really good game. It just hadn’t been enough.

  But there would be another game for him, another season, and, thinking optimistically, another championship game. Besides, he’d learned a ton this year, even though they’d come up short in the end.

  Most important, it really had been fun—most of the time, at least. He’d made a great new friend in Avery, and he’d become a better ballplayer along the way.

  He made the rounds of his teammates, telling them to hold their heads up because they’d had a great season and should be proud of what they’d accomplished. And as he said it, he realized it was true.

  “Derek!” he heard his dad calling.

  Derek turned and saw that Mr. Jeter was standing with the man who’d been sitting in the bleachers taking notes. “Come on over here, old man,” his dad said.

  Derek walked over to them. “This is Mr. Russell,” his dad said. “He’d like to talk with you for a minute.”

  “Hi,” said Derek. “Nice to meet you.”

  The man stuck out his hand. “Great game, young man.

  “Derek,” Derek said, shaking it. “Derek Jeter.”

  “Rick Russell. My son Brad was the starting pitcher?”

  “Oh yeah,” Derek said, looking over at Brad, who was celebrating with Dave and the rest. “He’s tough to hit.”

  “He’s going to be on the traveling team this fall.”

  “Oh yeah? Cool.”

  “I know because I coach the team.”

  Derek’s eyes widened. He’d heard of the traveling team’s exploits. They’d had a winning record four years running!

  But why was Mr. Russell telling him all this?

  “I’d like you to think about trying out, if you’re interested.”

  “Me?”

  “Only the best players make it, but I think you have a fighting chance.”

  “Wow! Thanks, Mr. Russell!” Derek blurted out. “I mean…” He looked up at his dad, who was beaming with pride. “I mean, if my parents say it’s okay.”

  “Your mom’s over there, talking with Mrs. Mullins,” Mr. Jeter said. “Why don’t you go ask her? If she says yes, it’s all right with me.”

  “Yessss!” Derek said excitedly. “Nice meeting you, sir,” he told Mr. Russell.

  “Nice meeting you, too, Derek,” said the coach. “You play a great shortstop, you know? I really like your game. More importantly, I like your approach. I saw you taking grounders with your dad. You were here a half hour early. That’s dedication.” He shook Derek’s hand again. “I look forward to the next time we meet. You can find notices about tryouts at your school. We post information on all the lobby bulletin boards.” Shaking hands with Derek’s dad, he added, “Mr. Jeter? It’s been a pleasure.” Then he turned and walked over to the Tigers’ side of the field.

  Derek stared after him, as if he’d just seen a shooting star flare across the sky. Finally he shook himself back to Earth. He turned to go find his mom and ask her permission to try out. She was still there in the stands—but Avery, her mom, and her entire cheering section had vanished.

  Chapter Seventeen END OF THE SEASON

  Derek’s mom and sister had already gone home, having been offered a lift with Chase, who said he’d drop them off on his and Dave’s way home. Derek now sat in the back seat of the family station wagon with Vijay, who for once was silent and somber. He almost always looked on the bright side, but this defeat had been crushing, for all the Yankees. There was no getting around it.

  Mr. Jeter didn’t break the silence. He let the boys have their private time, to process what had just happened. He’d lost big games before, and he knew what it was like.

  Derek, though, had something new and intriguing to distract him from his misery. The conversation with Coach Russell had taken him completely by surprise. Now it offered something hopeful to look forward to, instead of having to dwell on this painful loss.

  After they dropped Vijay off, his dad pulled into the family parking spot in front of their townhouse. “You okay?” his dad asked.

  “I guess I’ll get over it.”

  “Come on inside. Let’s get some lunch, huh?”

  They went inside. As Derek stepped through the doorway, he heard, “SURPRISE!”

  There were his mom, Sharlee—and his aunt Julie! Sharlee and his mom were holding a big tray with a cake on it!

  “HAPPY BIRTHDAY!” everyone shouted.

  “W-wait! My birthday’s not till tomorrow!”

  “Sharlee couldn’t wait,” Mrs. Jeter explained.

  “Mommy, aren’t we going to sing?” Sharlee said, tugging at her mother’s shirt.

  The whole family broke into song. As they serenaded him, Derek took a closer look at his cake. It was homemade, in the shape of a baseball diamond. On the infield was written in icing: HAPPY BIRTHDAY, DEREK! Underneath was the number twelve, for how old he was.

  In the outfield there was an interlocking NY for the Yankees, and the word “CHAMPIONS” under it. Above, in a different-color icing, was written in small letters “almost.”

  “Wow!” he cried when the song was over. “I can’t believe this cake!”

  “Make a wish and blow out the candles!” Sharlee ordered.

  He did as he was told, and then they all marched into the kitchen to watch Mrs. Jeter cut the cake.

  “Aunt Julie! I didn’t know you were coming!” Derek said, giving her a big hug.

  “I wouldn’t miss my nephew’s birthday,” she said, kissing him on the cheek.

  “So, Sharlee,” Derek said, “this is why you’ve been acting so suspicious the past two weeks!”

  She giggled with pleasure. “Mommy and I made the cake all by ourselves!” she bragged. “And I helped paint the players, too! See? You’re the one at shortstop!”

  Derek looked closer. “It does kind of look like me. Only handsomer. Great job, Sharlee. You’re an artist! And you sure know how to keep a secret.”

  Sharlee beamed with pleasure. “Can we give Derek his presents now?”

  “Sharlee,” her dad teased, “wouldn’t you rather have your cake first?”

  “No. Now!” Sharlee protested. “Daddy, pleeeeze?”

  “All right, all right,” Mr. Jeter said, laughing. “You’ve been very patient for two whole weeks, so…”

  There were two envelopes, a medium box, and a small box. Derek opened the first envelope. It was a card, and inside were tickets to see the Detroit Tigers play the Yankees the followin
g weekend at Tiger Stadium!

  “WOW!” Derek said. “This is amazing! Thanks, Mom! Thanks, Dad!”

  He gave them all hugs and kisses. It was the best present he could have asked for!

  He opened the next card. It was from his grandparents in New Jersey. “We can’t wait to see our great big grandson,” his grandma had written. “And guess what? We’re going to the Hall of Fame together in July!”

  Derek couldn’t believe it! He’d always wanted to see the Baseball Hall of Fame in Cooperstown, New York—and now he was going to go!

  He couldn’t wait to see what was in the medium-size box…. A brand-new mitt! “Thanks!” he said, trying it on. “I really need this. My old one’s about to fall apart.”

  “That’s what happens when you use a mitt as much as you do,” his dad commented. “Wear it in good health.”

  “This one is from me,” said Aunt Julie, handing Derek the small box.

  He opened it to find a metal object wrapped in tissue paper. It was a gold chain, with a gold interlocking NY pendant hanging from it!

  It took Derek’s breath away.

  “I… I don’t know what to say.” Derek draped the pendant around his neck and glanced at the mirror by the front door. “It’s beautiful. Thanks, Aunt Julie. You’re the best!”

  “Aunt Julie had it specially made for you,” Mrs. Jeter said.

  “That’s right,” said Aunt Julie. “It’s a reminder that your whole family is behind you.” She kissed him on the cheek again. “We’re all so proud of you, Derek. You’re really growing up.”

  Sharlee nestled close to him on the couch. “Even though Mommy did the writing on the cake, it was me who put in the ‘almost,’ so you wouldn’t feel so bad about losing.”

  “Aw, Sharlee…,” Derek said, putting his arm around her shoulder.

  “That’s why it’s so messy. We had to get home before you, and I had to rush, so…”

  “I’m sorry you had to change it,” Derek told her. “It would have been perfect the other way.”

  “Don’t feel bad, Derek,” Sharlee told him. “Even the best teams lose sometimes. Even mine! Even when Daddy coaches! Right, Daddy?”