by Mike Thaler
THE
LITTLE LEAGUE TEAM
FROM THE
BLACK LAGOON
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from the Black Lagoon
by Mike Thaler
Illustrated by Jared Lee
SCHOLASTIC INC.
THE
LITTLE LEAGUE TEAM
FROM THE
BLACK LAGOON
To Yonatan,
Who loves baseball—M.T.
To the good guys,
Rick, Doug, Brian and Larry—J.L.
All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright
Conventions. No part of this publication may be reproduced, transmitted,
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the express written permission of the publisher. For information regarding
permission, write to Scholastic Inc., Attention: Permissions Department, 557
Broadway, New York, NY 10012.
e-ISBN: 978-0-545-37553-5
Text copyright © 2007 by Mike Thaler.
Illustrations copyright © 2007 by Jared D. Lee Studio, Inc.
All rights reserved. Published by Scholastic Inc.
SCHOLASTIC, Little Apple, and associated logos are trademarks and / or
registered trademarks of Scholastic Inc.
First printing, May 2007
Contents
Chapter 1: Take Me Out to the Ball Game . . . 6
Chapter 2: Hand in Glove . . . . . . . . . . 13
Chapter 3: Catch a Falling Star . . . . . . . . 17
Chapter 4: Got Ya Covered . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .21
Chapter 5: Class of the Field . . . . . . . . 26
Chapter 6: Recessive Genes . . . . . . . . 34
Chapter 7: Going Batty . . . . . . . . . . . 41
Chapter 8: Hits, Runs, and Terrors . . . . . . . 45
Chapter 9: Diamonds Are a Boy’s Best Friend 49
Chapter 10: A Rose by Any Other Name . . . . 56
Chapter 11: The Rest Is History . . . . . . . 59
CHAPTER 1
Take Me Out to
the Ball Game
It’s baseball season. The sky
is filled with little white balls, and
the air with the swing of bats. All
of my friends are pulling out their
baseball gloves and pounding
the pockets. I look for my mitt.
It’s not under my dresser. It’s
not under my bed. It’s not in the
refrigerator.
I finally find it in the corner of
the garage. It’s as stiff as a board.
It’s so old—it’s prehistoric! It’s a
fossil. I feel like an archaeologist
finding a dinosaur bone. I’d be
6
7
better off using a paper plate
or a pillow. But I put lots of oil
on it and try to fold it around a
ball. No way, it doesn’t budge.
Little League tryouts are this
Saturday. Freddy’s got it made.
He’s the only one who wants to
be catcher. Eric’s got it easy . . .
his dad’s the coach. Derek’s a
slugger —he hit the only home
run last year. Penny and Doris
will make the team because
they’re girls. And Randy just
wants to keep score and figure
out everybody’s statistics.
Last year, my batting average
was zero. I walked twice, got hit
by a pitch, and struck out ten
times.
8
9
The only reason I played at
all was they needed someone to
stand in right field. They hoped
no one would hit the ball out
there. I hoped no one would,
too.
You’re out there all by yourself.
You can hardly see the game. It
gets lonely.
10
Then you hear the crack of the
bat, and a little white missile sails
out toward you. It’s like a meteor
falling from the sky. If you don’t
catch it, your team will lose the
game.
You’re out there all alone.
Do you run in? Do you run
back? Do you run to the
left - do you run to the right?
11
You look up and are staring
right into the sun. You can’t see
the ball at all. Then, all of a
sudden, it drops on your head.
The only one who is out . . . is
you. When you wake up, you
are surrounded by the team that
lost . . . your team. They’re glad
you’re okay so they can tell you,
“You lost the game.”
12
CHAPTER 2
Hand in Glove
This year I’m ready. I’ve been
practicing. I play catch with
Tailspin. I practice batting with a
broom. I’ll be able to sweep the
bases, but I need a new mitt. Rigor
mortis has set in my old one.
13
I ask Mom. I plead. I beg. She
says okay, but I have to cut the
lawn all year to pay for it. I say
okay. I’m desperate.
We get in the van and drive to
Sports World. They have all sorts
of gloves lined up in a leather
parade.
There are all kinds. Ones with
one finger, ones with two fingers,
ones with three fingers. I want
; one with five fingers. I need all
the help I can get!
14
If the store had one with ten
fingers, I’d get it. The bigger—
the better. But they’re all about
the size of an apple pie. Some are
signed by famous players. Others
are just signed by a guy named
Wilson. Never heard of him.
We finally find one that fits my
hand and mom’s pocketbook. I
now have a new glove. It’s like
coming home with a new pet.
It even smells like an animal.
15
The first thing I do is oil it
and wrap it around a ball.
Then I set it on my dresser
overnight. We’re going to be
great friends. We’re going to
do great things. We’re going
to work together hand in glove.
I fall asleep dreaming about my
new baseball career.
16
CHAPTER 3
Catch a Falling Star
It’s the 9
th
inning. I’m
standing in right field in a big
ballpark. I hear the crack of
the bat. I look up into the sky.
No sun - it’s a night game. The
sky is full of stars---thousands
of stars. Suddenly, one begins
to fall. I have to catch it or
we’ll lose the game. It’s falling
fast. But a star has a long way
to fall.
17
Should I run forward? Should
I run back? It looks like it’s going
to fall outside of the stadium. I
run into the street. It’s falling
out of town. I run down the road.
It’s going to fall in the ocean.
I get into a boat and row after
it. But I can’t row fast enough.
The star splashes down in the
water. Eight sharks in baseball
caps surround my boat and
shout out, “You lost the game!”
18
19
I wake up. My new mitt is still
on the dresser. I inhale its aroma
for reassurance . . . cowlogne . . .
I’m ready. This season things are
going to be different.
20
CHAPTER 4
Got Ya Covered
I wear my mitt to breakfast.
I’ve named it Grabber. It’s a little
hard to butter my toast, but I’m
not taking it off. We’re going to
become one. We’ll think as one,
we’ll move as one, we’ll be one.
21
While I’m waiting for the
school bus, I hit the pocket.
No ball will escape my grasp.
Grabber will grab anything that
comes near us. Nothing will
escape. I hold my schoolbooks
in my mitt.
22
When I get on the bus, T-Rex
says, “Got a new mitt there,
Hubie?”
“Its name is Wilson,” I answer,
“but I call it Grabber.”
“Cool,” says T-Rex, closing the
door.
“Hey, you got a new mitt,”
exclaims Derek. “Let me try it on.”
“No way,” I say. “My hand
will be the only one it will ever
know.”
“Welll!” declares Derek. “Fussy,
fussy.”
“Tryouts are tomorrow,” states
23
Eric. “My dad says to be there at
10 a.m. . . . sharp. He says this
year we’re going to do better.”
“That won’t be hard,” snickers
Randy, “0-and-12 is not a tough
record to beat.”
“Let’s hope that the other team
won’t show up to a game—so
we’ll have at least one win,” says
Penny.
24
“That’s not positive thinking,”
replies Eric.
“It’s positively the truth,”
snorts Doris.
Why do girls always
stick together? I just sit in the
back and pound Grabber’s
pocket all the way to school.
25
CHAPTER 5
Class of the Field
“What happened to your
hand?” asks Mrs. Green.
“He has baseball fever,” says
Freddy. “Your hand swells and
you see stars.”
“Can you hold a book?” asks
Mrs. Green.
“Grabber can hold anything,” I
answer.
“Grabber!” chuckles Derek.
“Well, open to page 32,” directs
Mrs. Green. “Who was George
Washington?”
I raise my hand with Grabber
on it.
26
27
“Hubie,” says Mrs. Green. “I
see your hand is up.”
“George Washington played 2
nd
base for the Cleveland Indians.”
“No way,” says Randy. “George
Washington played 3
rd
base for
the Boston Red Sox.”
28
“Baseball fever,” comments
Penny with a knowing nod.
“All right,” says Mrs. Green.
“Who invented baseball?”
I wave my glove.
29
“Yes, Hubie,” sighs Mrs.
Green.
“Abner Doubleplay,” I answer.
“Abner Doubleday,” corrects
Eric.
“I like Abner Doubleplay
better,” I say.
30
“Well, my dad took me to
Cooperstown and we spent a
whole day in the Baseball Hall
of Fame, and it’s Doubleday,”
asserts Eric.
“Now, now,” says Mrs.
Green. “Who would like to tell
us the history of baseball?”
31
My glove shoots up again.
“Hubie,” groans Mrs. Green.
“Well, Abner Doubleplay
invented baseball at the dinner
table. He was at home sitting in
front of a plate. They were having
chicken, and his wife was mixing
up the batter to throw it in. There
was also a pitcher of milk on the
table.
A fly flew on the table. Abner
tried to hit the fly, but instead hit
a ball of mashed potatoes which
shot up into the air and landed on
the chicken.
32
‘It’s a fowl ball,’ declared
Abner...and baseball was born.”
All the kids sat there with their
mouths open.
“Well,” said Mrs. Green. “It’s
time for recess.”
33
34
CHAPTER 6
Recessive Genes
“Let’s play ball,” I yell. I’m
totally pumped.
“All right,” says Eric, “I’ll be
captain and choose the teams.”
“Why are you captain?” asks
Penny.
“’Cause my dad’s the coach,”
says Eric, folding his arms.
“Well, I want to be a captain,
too,” says Penny.
“Okay, o
kay, you can be a
captain, too. Let’s choose teams.”
35
“I go first,” declares Penny.
“Why do you go first?” asks
Eric.
“’Cause I’m a girl,” says
Penny.
“Oh,” says Eric.
36
“I choose Doris,” says Penny.
“I choose Derek,” says Eric.
“I choose Randy,” says Penny.
“I choose Freddy,” says Eric.
“Who’s left?” asks Penny. I
wave my mitt. “Okay, I choose
Hubie.”
37
“Ha,” snickered Eric. “I have
all the good players.”
“We’ll just see,” says Penny.
“We’re up first.”
“Because you’re a girl?” asks
Eric.
“Right,” says Penny, grabbing
the bat.
38
Eric pitches the first ball high
in the air. Penny swings and spins
around.
“Strike one,” grins Eric.
Penny brushes the hair out of
her eyes. Eric rolls the ball on the
ground. Penny swings.
“That’s the old eye,”
taunts Eric. “Strike two.”
39
Then Eric winds up and
pretends to throw the ball —but
doesn’t. Penny swings.
“Strike three,” shouts Eric,
tossing the ball in the air. “You’re
out!”
“I get four strikes,” demands
Penny.
“Why?” asks Eric.
“Because she’s a girl,”
sneers Derek.
40
