Out at Second

by Matt Christopher

  If he had, then maybe the scene that played out later could have been avoided.

  Manny arrived at the field just before three thirty. Several other Grizzlies were already there, including Jason Romano.

  “How’re you doing?” Manny asked the shortstop.

  Jason chuckled. “A lot better than I was a few days ago, that’s for sure! Who knew such a tiny little bug bite could make a guy feel so rotten?”

  Coach Flaherty appeared then and pulled Manny aside. “Griffin, I heard Fletcher was back at school today.”

  Manny nodded.

  “Then why isn’t he here?”

  That’s when Manny realized that Stu was missing. “I don’t know, Coach,” he said. “I told him about practice starting early, just like I said I would.”

  The coach blew out a long breath. “Well, if he misses all of the warm-ups, he’ll find himself warming up something else instead—the bench!” With that, he ordered the team to run three laps around the field.

  As he jogged along, Manny kept an eye out for Stu. He knew he had told him about the time change—so where could he be? To his relief, he spotted him joining the run at the third lap. He slowed his pace to let Stu catch up.

  “Good thing you made it!” he said. “The coach was—”

  “Yeah, I made it, no thanks to you,” Stu growled. “Why didn’t you tell me we were supposed to be here at three thirty?”

  “I did!” Manny protested. “Yesterday afternoon, when I stopped by! Remember?”

  Stu squinted at him. “I guess I didn’t hear you then,” he said at last. “Sorry.”

  After the laps, the coach outlined the details of the scrimmage. “The Dolphins coach and I agreed that we’d play this as a three-two-count game. That means every batter comes to the plate with a count of three balls and two strikes. That way, our pitchers will get in some practice without tiring their arms, and the batters will get strikes to hit so the fielders can get some practice. And it will still be exciting. Got it?”

  The players nodded as one so Coach Flaherty continued.

  “Okay, now for the lineup. Domingo, you’re at pitcher first with Ray starting off at catcher. Luis, you’re at first. At second…”

  He paused here and frowned at his clipboard. “Stu, you start off there. But Sean, be ready to go in for him.”

  He listed the rest of the roster in rapid fire: Jason at short, Kiyoshi at third, with Charlie, Patrick, and Gary in the outfield, and then reminded those who weren’t starting that they’d get their turns, too. With that, he told everyone to find a spot on the field. “Easy throws at first, and then add in some grounders and pop-ups. Starters, I expect to see plenty of hustle out there.”

  The Dolphins showed up fifteen minutes later, and the Grizzlies left the field so they could warm up. When they were done, the scrimmage began.

  The Grizzlies had the field first. Manny took a seat on the bench to watch the action. As an afterthought, he pulled his scorecard notebook out of his backpack and flipped to the game played earlier in the season between the Grizzlies and the Dolphins.

  The same leadoff batter from that match was in the box now. Back then, he had struck out. Manny wondered how he’d fare today.

  He got his answer right away. Domingo threw a pitch and crack! The Dolphin connected for a bouncing grounder toward third. Kiyoshi fielded it cleanly but didn’t get the ball to Luis in time.

  “Runner on first, no outs, play is to first or second!” Coach Flaherty reminded them. “You know what to watch for!”

  Manny glanced at the runner. He was sidling off first. A steal, Manny thought. That’s what to watch for. And maybe a bunt to help him out?

  But the batter didn’t bunt. When Domingo unleashed another fastball—pow!—the Dolphin laced a high-flying hit deep into center field. Patrick McGwire spun on his heel and ran back to make the catch. Meanwhile, the runner took off from first. Jason charged toward second to cover it so that Stu could race to the cutoff spot to get the throw from Patrick.

  But Stu didn’t run to the outfield. Instead, he made a move as if to cover first base—and then turned back to man second!

  Patrick snared the ball for the out. But with no cutoff man to throw to, he didn’t have a prayer of stopping the runner. He heaved the ball as hard as he could anyway.

  Jason saw it coming and dashed forward to pluck it from the grass. Then he relayed it to Domingo. The runner had touched third by then and looked eager to continue to home when his coach directed him back to the bag.

  “Fletcher, what the heck was that?” Coach Flaherty bellowed.

  “Sorry!” Stu said. He sounded bewildered. “I—I just… Sorry!”

  Manny listened to his friend’s reply with his mouth hanging open. He’d never known Stu to flub a play so badly. Never.

  “You’re lucky this is only a scrimmage,” the coach said. “Now get your head in the game—or I’ll put someone else in instead!”

  12

  The top of the first inning ended soon after Stu’s error, but not before the Dolphins chalked up a pair of runs. Coach Flaherty rattled off the batting order, sending Kiyoshi to the plate to start them off. “Remember,” he said, “you’re going in with a three-two count. So unless the pitch is really awful, swing!”

  Kiyoshi did swing. But he missed and was out.

  Jason was up next. A lefty, he swung from his heels and sent the ball flying into shallow right field for a single. That brought up Gary Thompson.

  “Lay one down,” the coach muttered to him.

  Gary did as he was told, squaring off to the mound for a tidy little bunt. The pitcher must have anticipated that move, however, because he jumped on the ball right away. He sent it to first in time to get Gary out.

  Jason, meanwhile, was safe at second. But that’s as far as he got. Stu, batting cleanup, stood like a tree at the side of the road when the pitch came. It whizzed by him at waist level and socked into the catcher’s glove.

  “Strike three, you’re out!” the Dolphin coach cried.

  Coach Flaherty scowled but didn’t dispute the call. How could he? The Dolphin catcher had barely moved his mitt!

  “Dude, why didn’t you swing?” Manny heard Jason ask Stu in the dugout.

  Stu just shrugged. “I thought it was a ball.”

  Jason shook his head in disgust. “Then you should have your eyes checked, man, because that pitch was as straight as an arrow!”

  “Oh, yeah?” Stu retorted. “Well, I call ’em like I see ’em, and to me, that pitch looked lousy!”

  Jason looked ready to argue further when Manny cut in. “Guys, it’s just a scrimmage,” he said. “It doesn’t matter! Now come on, get to your positions before the coach has a fit!”

  Jason and Stu glowered at each other. Then Jason pounded his fist into his glove and ran onto the field.

  Stu reached down for his own mitt. When he stood up, he blinked a few times and then pressed his fingers to his eyes.

  Manny looked at him with concern. “You okay?”

  Stu dropped his hand. “For the ten-thousandth time, I’m fine. I just need to get focused on the game, that’s all.” With that, he slipped his glove onto his hand and hurried out to the second base position.

  Stu seemed to settle down in the second inning. At least, he didn’t make any more flagrant errors. He hit a sizzling grounder in the bottom of the third that went for a stand-up double.

  After that inning ended, however, something happened.

  “Okay, Grizzlies, I’m going to switch things up now,” the coach announced. “Taylor, you head to shortstop. Manny, you’re in for Ray. Howie, you take the mound. And Sean, go in for Stu at second. The rest of you will—”

  “You can’t do that!” Stu interrupted. His face was contorted with anger.

  A shocked silence filled the dugout. For one long moment, Coach Flaherty seemed incapable of speech. Then he gritted his teeth and said, “I beg your pardon?”

  “You can’t replace me with him!” St
u jabbed a finger toward Sean.

  The coach drew himself up to his full height. “In case you hadn’t noticed, Mr. Fletcher, you’re not the only one being replaced. Everyone is going to get a chance to play today. And I warn you now,” he added, “one more outburst like that and Sean will see even more playing time, because I’ll start him at second in the game tomorrow! Do I make myself clear?”

  Stu clamped his mouth shut and nodded sullenly. He sat through the remaining innings in stony silence. When the scrimmage ended, he picked up his glove and stalked away right after the coach dismissed them.

  Manny started after him, but then stopped. He’d never known Stu to be angry. Even when they argued, Stu didn’t let his temper get the best of him. In fact, until today, Manny would have said Stu didn’t have a temper at all.

  Something was wrong with Stu; he knew that now. But what?

  A hit on the head couldn’t cause him to act like this—could it?

  He didn’t know. But he decided it was time to find out.

  13

  When Manny got home from practice, he went straight to his computer and logged on to the Internet. He typed head injury in the search line. The computer returned a long list of sites to explore. He scanned the titles and found one marked “sports and head trauma.” He clicked on it and was greeted with a prompt to view a short video clip. One tap later, he was watching a recent newscast from a local television channel.

  “The sports scene suffered a tragic loss today with the sudden passing of boxer Sam Wheeler,” a somber reporter announced. “Doctors believe his death was caused by a blow to the head.”

  The scene switched from the news station studio to a doctor’s office, where a second reporter was conducting an interview with a woman in a white lab coat.

  “Doctor,” the concerned reporter said, “we know that boxers receive hits to the head all the time. What made this one so deadly for Wheeler?”

  “We believe that Wheeler may have already had a concussion from a knockout punch he’d taken a few weeks ago,” the doctor replied.

  “Why would that matter?” the reporter probed.

  The doctor laced her fingers together. “Concussions are serious business—much more serious than many people know.” She pulled out a model of a skull and opened it to reveal a plastic brain inside.

  “Our brains are protected on the outside by our skulls and cushioned on the inside by spinal fluid. When a person hits something with his or her head or is hit on the head, the brain sloshes from one side of the skull to the other. It gets bruised, and like all bruises, it needs time to heal.”

  She sighed deeply. “If Wheeler had a concussion and was hit again—or more than once, as was likely, given his line of work—then any one of those blows could have damaged his brain so severely that it just couldn’t endure any more trauma.”

  “But, doctor, what makes you think Sam Wheeler had a concussion in the first place?”

  “As I said, he had recently been knocked out during a match. After the bout, he complained of headaches, dizziness, and fatigue,” the doctor said. “These are all classic symptoms of a concussion, although they are not the only ones. Also, it should be noted that while Wheeler was knocked out, you don’t have to lose consciousness to have a concussion.”

  “And had Wheeler chosen to seek help?” the reporter asked. “What could the medical profession have done for him?”

  “The best cure for a concussion is time. With time, most symptoms usually go away within a few days or a week,” the doctor said. “Until they do, however, anyone who has a concussion is at risk of greater health problems unless they take care of themselves properly.”

  Here, she looked straight into the camera. “I can’t stress this enough: If you believe you have a concussion, you must protect yourself from another head injury. If you don’t…”

  Her voice trailed off and the scene cut back to the newsroom and a photo of the boxer before he died. Then the video ended.

  Manny stared at the screen without really seeing it. His mind was sifting through details of the last two days.

  Stu had been so tired yesterday that he’d slept through practice. He’d said he’d had a headache, too. And dizziness—Stu had had that symptom, too.

  Then Manny applied a mental brake. I shouldn’t jump to conclusions until I know a little more, he thought. There was still time before dinner, so he returned to the computer’s search engine and typed symptoms of concussion.

  Once more, the computer offered a long list of sites. Manny clicked on the first one and scanned the article. The same symptoms the doctor had outlined were there, as were others, such as nausea and blurred vision. Manny recalled how Stu hadn’t been able to juggle and had missed catching his own high throw. He’d left the lunchroom because he was feeling sick to his stomach.

  Other words jumped out at him, too. Forgetfulness. Confusion. Anxiety. Irritability. With each new symptom, Manny’s heart sank a little lower because everything he read pointed to one thing: Stu had a concussion.

  His heart sank further still when he read about the number of concussions that occurred in youth sports. Football was at the top of the list, with an estimated seventy thousand head injuries reported in one year, but baseball was on there, too. One link even told about an old-time professional player named Ray Chapman who had died after being hit by a pitch. His death had eventually led to the introduction of the batting helmet, but those helmets were no guarantee that players would be safe.

  Manny logged off soon after reading the article about Chapman. He drummed his fingers on his desk, thinking about what he’d learned.

  He didn’t want to ignore his findings. But he didn’t want to break the promise he’d made to Stu to keep his mouth shut about the hit on the head. And what if he did tell, only to find out he was wrong and Stu was fine? Mrs. Fletcher would ground him, and Stu would never forgive him for making him miss the championship game!

  But what if Stu wasn’t fine, and then got hit in the head again in the game tomorrow? Manny shuddered.

  Manny thought about his problem all through supper. It scratched at his brain while he was doing his homework, too. In bed that night, he tossed and turned, wondering what he should do.

  The solution came to him at last. According to the information he’d gleaned from the Web sites, the symptoms of a concussion went away over time, sometimes in as little as a few days.

  Maybe, Manny thought, Stu’s symptoms will be gone by tomorrow. I’ll just have to keep a close eye on him and see. Until I know for sure, I won’t say a word.

  That settled, Manny finally fell asleep.

  14

  Manny put his plan into action the moment he got on the bus the next morning. He didn’t dare ask Stu how he was feeling again for fear of getting the same “I’m fine” reply. So when Stu slid in next to him, he pretended to be looking for a particular page in his scorecard notebook. But really, he was studying Stu out of the corner of his eye.

  He would have made a lousy spy, he soon discovered, for as usual, Stu caught him in the act.

  “What? Do I have egg on my face or something?” he asked, rubbing his chin with his fingers and grinning.

  Manny smiled back. “No, no egg, although I think I see a little bit of toothpaste!”

  “At least you know I brushed this morning,” Stu countered.

  “Or maybe last night, and then you didn’t wash your face!”

  They broke up laughing, Manny with relief as much as anything else. He seems normal today, he thought happily. Maybe he’s okay after all! Still, it wouldn’t hurt to test him a little.

  “So, big game today,” he ventured as they got off the bus at school. “Are you, um, planning to yell at Coach Flaherty again?”

  Stu gave a rueful laugh. “No, I’d rather not be benched for the championships,” he replied. He glanced at Manny. “Speaking of being benched, thanks again for not saying anything to my mom about… you know.” He touched his head.

  Man
ny couldn’t believe it. Here he was, dying to ask Stu about his injury, and Stu was the one to bring it up!

  “Yeah, about that,” he said. “I was reading something online last night. It was about concussions.”

  “Yeah, so?”

  Manny followed Stu off the bus. “So,” he said, “I’m pretty sure you have one, and if you do, then it would be a really bad idea for you to play in the game today.” The last part of his speech came out in a rush. It felt so good to get it off his chest that he let out a deep sigh of relief.

  His relief didn’t last long.

  Stu stopped dead in his tracks. “Say what?”

  Manny nervously shifted his backpack to his other shoulder. “It’s just that, according to some stuff I read, if you have a concussion and get hit in the head again, then you can be in big trouble. You know, health-wise and all.”

  Stu rounded on him. “So now you’re a doctor? You can tell just by looking at me that I have a concussion?” He snorted with derision. “You think I don’t know what’s going on? You want Sean to take my place in the game today! Coaching him has become your little pet project, and you just have to see him succeed, don’t you? For all I know, you guys planned for me to get hit in the head that day! Well, your plan didn’t work, because I will be in the game today! And another thing”—he shoved his face so close to Manny’s their noses nearly touched—“you say one word to the coach or my mom about my so-called concussion, and I will never, ever forgive you!”

  He spun away and disappeared into the crowd of students filing into the school. Manny, meanwhile, stood rooted to the spot, too stunned by Stu’s outburst to move.

  “Hey, Manny, come on or you’ll be late!” Sean appeared at his side, took one look at him, and added, “Whoa, what is wrong with you?”

  Manny shook his head. “I’ve got a big problem. And I’m not sure what I can do about it.” He hesitated but realized that if he could tell anyone of his suspicions about Stu, it was Sean, because Sean had been there when it happened. So he told Sean everything.