Little League Softball Champs

by Joe Jackson



  LITTLE LEAGUE

  SOFTBALL CHAMPS

  Joe Jackson

  ~~~

  COPYRIGHT © 2012 BY

  DAMIME PUBLISHING COMPANY

  All Rights reserved.

  This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to your favorite ebook retailer and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

  LITTLE LEAGUE and LITTLE LEAGUE SOFTBALL are registered trademarks of Little League Baseball, Inc.

  TABLE OF CONTENTS

  ROLES TO PLAY

  TIME TO PLAY

  CHAOS

  GET RID OF HER

  TOO MUCH FUN

  ANOTHER ROUND

  SPLIT SEAMS

  MOVING FORWARD

  BLOWING UP

  WHY WE PLAY THE GAME

  APPENDIX: TAKING CARE OF YOUR GLOVE OR MITT

  FOR MY BEAUTIFUL DAUGHTERS

  ROLES TO PLAY

  Emilee Davis reached for the new fastpitch softball bat and rubbed her hands along the smooth composite surface. The slender handle was coral in color, very easy to grip; the big barrel imprinted with black lettering. The 28-inch bat weighed 18 ounces and met the requirements of the new Little League Softball bat rules. Emilee held a firm grip on the new bat that fit into her small hands just right.

  Stepping back to make sure there were no objects she might accidently hit, Emilee took a few easy swings. This balanced bat would hit a softball hard. It was very easy for her to swing and that was important. She knew she could swing this bat quickly and opposing fastpitch softball pitchers did not like quick bats. Without taking her gleaming eyes off it, she winked at her mom and turned to the sales clerk saying softly, ‘It’s a beauty and I would like to buy it.”

  The sales clerk grinned, walked behind the counter, and said, “I’ll tell you what I’ll do. If you promise to hit a home run, I will throw in a batting glove for you. What do you say about that?”

  With a sparkle in her blue eyes, Emilee quickly replied, “With this bat I will promise you and thank you so much for the glove.”

  Emilee had been saving as much money as she could for this purchase. She had earned money helping her neighbors and friends with odd jobs, baby sitting younger children, and handling the many responsibilities around her own home to earn an allowance. In the end though, she did have to count on a little help from her Mom and Dad.

  She looked at her Mom and Dad. She gave him a big hug, and said, “Isn’t it a beauty, Dad? What do you think Mom? Thank you both so much for helping me.”

  Her Dad grinned from ear to ear and said, “If you hit one over the fence, I will make sure everyone in town hears about it.”

  “Okay,” Emilee said, laughing as they left the store together. Ever since t-ball, she had not ever hit a home run and today she had made a promise to do just that. She looked at the bat again and smiled. She just knew in her heart that with this bat she would finally knock one over the fence.

  They hurried home because tonight was a very important night. It was the opening night of Little League Softball and the first scheduled game was later this evening. After weeks of preparation, spring tryouts, and the many long, hard, sweaty practice sessions, Emilee was ready to play. Coach Wilson had asked for a brief meeting a few hours before game time.

  The meeting was going to be at Emilee’s house, on the patio. Earlier that morning, Emilee begged her mother not to furnish any soft drinks for the team. Her mother wanted to but Emilee was able to convince her that the team did not need to drink soft drinks before the start of the first game of the season.

  “I just wanted to help keep the butterflies down and I thought a soda pop would help. But you are right Emilee,” her mother said. “There is probably nothing in the world that will prevent butterflies on the opening night of Little League Softball.”

  Emilee sat down on one of the lawn chairs arranged on the patio. She was in full Purple Panther uniform, white with purple trim and purple leggings. Her purple cap, with the purple bill and button, was hanging from a peg on the wall. She was also wearing her new softball shoes, the ones with the latest molded cleat design. Her mother had surprised her with them the day before. How her mother knew about the latest cleat style, Emilee had to wonder.

  Little League Softball was softball for the youth, organized and established in 1974 with headquarters in Williamsport, Pennsylvania. Little League Softball was growing throughout the world, getting bigger and bigger every year with a final tournament schedule called the Little League Softball World Series. Each individual league had schedules with playoffs. The longer a team continued to win, the closer the team came to playing in the Little League Softball World Series Championship.

  When her town announced it was organizing a Little League Softball league, Emilee was one of the first to appear at the ballpark to register. She enjoyed playing softball and could not wait to sign up. Various businesses and organizations in town sponsored the different teams by providing the uniforms and equipment to outfit each team. On the very first day of try-outs, with almost three hundred youngsters on the field and all of the different team coaches watching them carefully to make selection decisions later, Emilee had been frantic with fear of going unnoticed after working so hard to show her own softball skills.

  Later, at a special meeting, the individual team coaches met to bid for the players they had reviewed and wanted. Each coach held a certain number of points to “purchase” the players they liked. This format had proven to be the best at preventing “cliquish” selections.

  Coach Wilson of the Purple Panthers in the American League picked Emilee. In the beginning, she was not impressed with Coach Wilson even though coach did seem to know her softball. Emilee thought she looked rather dull. Her appearance was drab, her car a rust bucket, but after a few practice sessions, Emilee realized how focused Coach Wilson seemed to be as a Little League Softball coach. Emilee guessed being flashy was not a necessary requirement to coach.

  Emilee’s father saw her fidgeting in the chair and asked, “Are you nervous, Emilee?”

  “A little,” Emilee admitted.

  “Don’t worry one more bit about it, my little girl. You will get over it after you see the first pitch. Even big leaguers feel that way on opening night,” her dad said. “Come with me to the front porch so you can greet your teammates as they arrive. Is the whole team coming this afternoon?”

  Emilee nodded. “Coach Wilson called the meeting for four-thirty because that is when she gets off work. She couldn’t make it any earlier.”

  “I see,” her father murmured. “What about this Jennifer Wilson woman, your coach, Emilee? Where does she come from?”

  “Other side of town,” Emilee mumbled. There was not too much enthusiasm in her voice when she spoke of the Purple Panther coach and her father sensed it. Emilee had hoped the Pink Sox, managed by the former professional fastpitch outfielder Melissa Williams, would select her. Of course, every one of the players on the field at tryouts that afternoon wanted to play for Coach Williams too.

  “Was Wilson a softball player too?” her father asked as they went out on the porch.

  “I think she played college softball and had a brief stint in a semi-pro league back in the 90’s,” Emilee said. “She’s never talked about it.”

  “I suppose,” her father murmured, “you wanted to play for Coach Williams, didn’t you?”

  Emilee moistened her lips. In a tow
n like Lake Forbing with a population of just under thirty six thousand people, almost everybody knew Melissa Williams, because Melissa was the only professional softball player to come from the town. She had been good too, once among the leading hitters and always a slick outfielder.

  “I guess,” Emilee admitted. “It would have been great playing for the Pink Sox. I could probably learn a lot more with Coach Williams.”

  Her father nodded. “You think so. Well, you know sometimes, the best ballplayers do not make the best coaches,” he said. “Remember, whoever it is ever you play for Emilee, always give them your best effort when you are practicing and playing on that ball field.”

  Two girls dressed in purple and white Purple Panther uniforms were coming down the street and Emilee walked to the porch door to greet them. Her father touched her on the shoulder and walked into the living room. Emilee could hear him talking with her mother.

  The girls coming up the walk were Hannah Miller, the right fielder, and Isabella Lopez, the catcher. Hannah was short with a solid build and had the wide shoulders of a swimmer. She was the hardest hitting batter on the team and had earned the fourth spot, the cleanup, in the batting line-up. Hannah had very light blond hair and green eyes. She chewed gum vigorously and when she saw Emilee in the porch doorway, she lifted her hand and waved with a big smile.

  Isabella Lopez, the catcher, also had a solid frame, though she was a little taller. Isabella was a tanned, olive-skinned girl with quick, capable hands, and a great throwing arm for a young girl of twelve. Coach Wilson always shook her head in amazement when she watched Isabella throw down to second.

  Once on the porch Hannah asked, “Are we the first ones here, Emilee?”

  “Well, yes you are,” Emilee replied as she watched Isabella pick up the bat Emilee had just purchased from the store. Isabella held it in her hands while looking it over.

  Hannah Miller moved over, sat down on the porch swing, and said, “I heard the Pink Sox had a meeting up at Melissa Williams’ house yesterday. They say Melissa built a regular clubhouse in the back yard and filled it with all of her softball trophies, pictures, and souvenirs. Melissa calls it her “Softball House.”

  Emilee noticed an envious tone in Hannah’s voice and said quickly, “The Pink Sox aren’t going to win the pennant in Coach Williams’ club house, Hannah. You know that.”

  “I know,” Hannah admitted as she touched her chin thoughtfully.

  Emilee glanced at Isabella who was still holding the new bat. Isabella, who lived across town in the big apartment complex, was from a large family of seven children besides herself and her father worked long hard hours in the railroad yards. Holding something new was not a common occurrence for Isabella, the youngest of her siblings. Isabella often claimed, jokingly, she was queen of the hand-me-downs.

  Isabella sat down next to Hannah. She had a pretty face though she seldom smiled; a quiet, serious dark-eyed girl with long flowing black hair; a girl who had to really struggle with peer pressure to get out of her neighborhood and onto a Little League Softball team. Emilee had heard that most of the older kids from the apartment complex teased Isabella for wanting to play on a Little League Softball team. Isabella could handle it, though, Emilee thought. Besides, coming from a large family, Isabella had plenty of brothers, sisters, and cousins to support her.

  Isabella said, “Everybody’s late, Emilee.”

  “They’ll be along,” Emilee told her. She heard Isabella start to whistle softly, then Isabella said slowly,

  “What do you think of Madelyn Taylor, Emilee?”

  Emilee looked at her. “I guess Madelyn is all right,” she said.

  Madelyn Taylor was one of the four Purple Panther pitchers and easily the best from what Emilee had seen of her in practice sessions. Madelyn was from River Oaks, out in the suburbs of Lake Forbing, and Emilee knew that Madelyn’s father owned the big Lake Forbing Cotton Mill. The Taylor family had a summer home in the mountains and a winter home in Florida. They also had a big yacht because Madelyn had casually mentioned it one day during batting practice. She had invited Emilee down to the marina to help her clean the deck. Emilee remembered asked Madelyn, “How will I know which one is yours?” Madelyn had responded by letting Emilee know not to worry because she would be waiting for her at the dock’s entrance.

  Emilee had sensed that Coach Wilson was curious to see how Isabella and Madelyn would get along. There had been no trouble between the two so far, but Emilee wondered how they were going to hit it off during the short Little League softball season of eighteen games, played during the summer vacation, with all of the games in the twilight of the evening.

  An electrician’s truck pulled up in front of the house, and two more girls in Purple Panther uniforms hopped out. Mr. Jones, a licensed electrician, grinned from behind the wheel, waved a hand to his daughter Ashley, the Purple Panther left fielder, and then drove off to his next job.

  With Ashley Jones was little Sofia Hernandez, the youngest girl on the Purple Panther team. Sofia had just turned ten, was an amazingly fast runner, and under Coach Wilson’s guidance, was developing into a dependable center fielder.

  Sofia’s father owned a little Mexican restaurant on the main street in downtown Lake Forbing. The food was excellent there, especially the homemade tamales and her mother’s famous flan dessert. Mr. Hernandez wanted to sponsor one of the teams even though his restaurant, a very small, one-window affair, was not making a great deal of money. Because other sponsors had put their bids in first, his offer, though appreciated, was not accepted.

  Ashley Jones, tall, slender, and ash-blond nodded to Emilee when she came up. She pointed and said, “Look, there’s Madison Moore.”

  Madison, the third baseman, was walking up the street from one direction and Sarah Anderson, the shortstop, was walking from the opposite direction. Moore was taller of the two girls, green-eyed, with a cute splash of freckles on her face surrounded by her curly, red hair.

  So far, Emilee had sensed some tension between Madison Moore and Sarah Anderson. Sarah was a quiet shy girl, and Madison, who was just the opposite, took it for a lack of self-esteem.

  Jasmine Brown, the first baseman for the team, followed behind Moore. Jasmine appeared a little self-conscious in her uniform while walking the streets of Emilee’s neighborhood. Like Lopez, Johnson lived in the same apartment complex and had to put in just as much effort as Isabella to get onto a Little League Softball team. She was another quiet girl, but very good at fielding balls and digging throws out of the dirt at first. Jasmine had a beautiful infectious smile and Emilee had liked her immediately upon meeting her.

  Madison Moore jumped up on the porch and said rather sourly, “Coach Wilson here, yet?”

  “She’ll be along,” Emilee assured her. “She told me she might be a few minutes late.”

  Madison sat down on the edge of the porch. She took Emilee’s bat from Isabella Lopez’s hands and examined it, her green eyes shining a little. “This is a beauty,” she murmured.

  “There’s Coach Wilson now,” Hannah Miller suddenly said.

  The players on the porch lapsed into silence as Coach Wilson stepped off the bus on the corner and hurried toward the house, checking the house numbers as she walked, not sure which one was Emilee’s. She was tall, in her thirties, but very skinny, almost bony, a homely looking woman.

  When she saw the girls on the porch, she waved while smiling and Emilee went out to meet her.

  “How are you, Emilee?” the Purple Panther coach said.

  She had a nice smile, very warm, which made Emilee forget her rather homely face. “Is everybody here?” Coach Wilson asked.

  Three more Purple Panther pitchers – Destiny Johnson, Samantha Smith, and Maria Rodriguez, were hurrying around the corner. These three girls, with Madelyn Taylor, filled out the pitching roster.

  “Everybody’s here but Madelyn,” Madison Moore told her.

  “Well, we’ll give Madelyn five more minutes,” Coach Wilson said chee
rily. “Is this group all set for the big opener this evening?”

  The players all nodded, but Emilee could see that there was not too much enthusiasm. Most of the players, herself included, wanted to play for the famous Melissa Williams. Emilee was a little ashamed, remembering her thoughts. It was not fair to Coach Wilson, who was working very hard with this team, getting it ready for the opening game, while also working full time at her job to make her own living.

  Emilee stood back against one of the porch columns, looking at the various players. With the exception of Destiny Johnson, the pitcher, and Ashley Jones, the outfielder, she had known none of the others before the team formed. They were all from different parts of Lake Forbing because the league had held open tryouts. The eight coaches, representing the eight teams in the Lake Forbing League, had made their choices from the various players at spring tryouts without any knowledge of a player’s background, judging them solely upon their abilities on the diamond.

  Coach Wilson’s selections, without her knowing it at the time, had cut right through Lake Forbing society. From the walled gated community of River Oaks, where Madelyn Taylor lived, to the middle class residential neighborhoods like Emilee’s, to the apartment complex on the other side of the railroad tracks. Emilee’s neighborhood included small business owners in town like the Anderson’s, the electrician Jones, and the Hernandez family, who owned the restaurant. It included working-class men like Mr. Moore and Mr. Miller.

  Coach had mentioned at their first practice session, “Each one of you is different with a different role to play. Once we learn how to work and play together as a team, we can be counted on like a fine tuned engine.”

  A luxurious black touring car was pulling up to the curb with a chauffeur at the wheel. When the car came to a stop, the chauffeur stepped out and opened the door. Madelyn Taylor bounced out, grinning like everyone else, already in her full Purple Panther uniform.

  “Holy smoke,” little Sofia Hernandez gasped. “This girl has her own chauffer!”

  Madelyn came up on the porch, a very pretty girl, with honey blond hair and beautiful blue eyes. Everyone often said Madelyn and Emilee looked so much alike they could pass for sisters.

  “How is it everybody?” Madelyn grinned. “Sorry I am late. We just got back from the beach and George had to rush me over here.”

  Emilee noticed that George, the chauffeur, had taken out his eBook reader as he sat behind the wheel. Evidently, he intended to wait for Madelyn.

  The other girls were looking at the car, also. Jasmine Brown touched her chin thoughtfully, her eyes wide. Isabella Lopez’s face was expressionless and Emilee did not know what to think.

  “Since we are all here,” Coach Wilson said, “let’s start the meeting.”

  They went out to the patio and sat down in the chairs. Coach started to talk as soon as they sat down. She spoke briskly, often using her hands to emphasize a point.

  “We have a good team here,” she said earnestly, “a very good team. I do not know how far we will go in this league, but if we all pull together, we can do some wonderful things. I have seen some very good teams fall apart because they could not or would not play together. It is not how good you are in softball or any team sport, but it’s how well you play alongside the person next to you.”

  Tall, slender Ashley Jones was nodding her head vigorously. Little Sofia Hernandez nodded also, taking her cue from Jones, who was her best friend forever.

  The other girls just looked at Coach Wilson or at the floor. Emilee could see the talk was not making too much of an impression on anyone.

  “Okay then,” coach finished. “Here’s the lineup for tonight’s twilight game.” Earlier in the week, during practice, Coach Wilson had announced that Madelyn would start the first softball game.

  She posted a scrap of paper on the wall showing all positions filled with Madelyn Taylor pitching and Isabella Lopez catching. Silent murmurs grew louder and excitement began to build. You could feel it in the air. The first game of the season was about to start.

  “One other thing,” coach said. “We’ll need a team captain and that is somebody you will have to elect yourselves.

  Sofia Hernandez said, “How about Emilee Davis?”

  Hannah Miller, Ashley Jones, and Sarah Anderson nodded.

  “Anybody else nominated?” Coach asked.

  There were no other nominations and Emilee became the team captain. Coach Wilson whispered to her quietly, “Okay, Emilee, it’s your job, and good luck with it. You would have been my choice too.”

  “Thanks,” Emilee murmured. She shifted uneasily on her feet, wondering how much luck she was going to need. She was now the team captain of the Lake Forbing Purple Panthers, a team with a coach most of the players had no respect for and the first game of the season was just moments away.

  TIME TO PLAY