by Joe Jackson
There was a parade out to the park for the opening games of the Little League season. A fire department ladder truck and a police car, both with their lights flashing, and one of the area high school bands marched ahead, leading the procession. Local league officials, sponsors, organizations, and town dignitaries followed the band with the individual teams, their players in full uniforms, marching behind, carrying their team banners covered with the names of their sponsors.
A smiling Emilee carried one end of the Purple Panther banner and a proud Isabella carried the other. It looked as if the whole town had turned out to watch the parade march to the new ball field, a field specially constructed for the Little League Softball games. Groups of kids had even come down from across the railroad tracks. Many were jeering as the teams went by. Several of them pointed and hooted at Isabella and Jasmine in their new uniforms as they walked past. Both girls held their heads high and their jaws tight while staring straight ahead.
Coach Wilson walked with the Purple Panthers, grinning while looking a little self-conscious, trying to keep step with the rest of the parade marchers.
Up ahead of the Purple Panthers walked the Pink Sox, with Melissa Williams marching ahead of them alone, smiling, and waving her hand to the crowd. She wore a nice athletic sports outfit with new sport shoes and her long black hair parted in the middle. She seemed cool, clean, efficient, and very confident.
Looking over at Coach Wilson, Emilee noticed a striking difference. Coach wore a rather baggy pair of pants made of a dark polyester material. Her white shirt frayed at the collar, her blouse sleeves rolled up, and her ordinary black loafers looked rather worse for wear.
Emilee remembered what she had heard so many times from coach about the appearance of an opposing team. “Get it out of your head girls,” coach had said, “because just like you, they put their uniforms on one leg at a time. Without a person inside it, a uniform would just lie on the floor and gather dust.”
At the ball field, the band played the Star Spangled Banner, the Little League representative made a short speech, and then the Purple Panthers took the field with the Pink Sox at bat. The big crowd that had swarmed after the parade filled the bleachers behind the dugouts and the home plate fence. The smell of popcorn and hotdogs from the concession stand was definitely in the air. The ball field was buzzing with something. Emilee knew what it was: LITTLE LEAGUE SOFTBALL EXCITEMENT!
After a brief warm-up session of stretching and throwing, the plate umpire tossed a white official Little League softball out on the field.
Madelyn Taylor, smiling broadly and looking very cool and calm, walked out to the pitcher’s circle and picked up the ball. In Little League Softball games, especially fastpitch, a good pitcher controlled, and runs were generally hard to come by. Madelyn had proved to be that kind of pitcher in practice sessions. She would prove it today, Emilee hoped.
Isabella Lopez stood behind the plate, her mask on the ground beside her, staring out at Taylor, waiting for her warm-up pitches. Emilee trotted out to second base. Madison Moore moved quickly to third base, Sarah Anderson trotted to shortstop, and tall Jasmine Brown eased over to first.
The three Purple Panther outfielders, Hannah Miller, Sofia Hernandez, and Ashley Jones, sprinted toward their outfield positions. Destiny Johnson, because she was not pitching, eased out to her “rover” position. The umpire bawled from behind home plate, “PLAY BALL.”
Emilee felt the nervous energy rising inside of her and she could hardly stand still. Her father and mother sat in the stands on the first base side of the field, along with one of her uncles, her aunt, and her grandmother. Every other player on the field had relatives present except Isabella Lopez. Isabella had informed Emilee that there would be no one there to watch her play. Her father was busy playing soccer and did not want to be bothered with softball. Her mom had to stay with her brother.
Madelyn Taylor’s parents, with a few of their friends present, sat apart from the others at the far end of the third base stands. They dressed in fine expensive looking sports clothes, and Madelyn’s father, a big, heavy-set man with a bulldog face, who did not look at all like his pretty daughter, smoked a big fat cigar.
Coach Wilson stayed in the Purple Panther dugout with the substitutes. Emilee could see that even she was nervous. First, she sat on the dugout steps, rubbing her hands; then she stood, and then she sat down again.
The first Pink Sox batter put on the protective helmet and walked out to the plate. Madelyn stood on the pitching rubber, watching her, waiting for Isabella’s signal. Isabella had her mask, chest protector, and kneepads on now. She squatted down, stared at Madelyn through the bars of her mask, and then flashed her signal for the fastball.
Madelyn wound up and her strong athletic body lunged forward as she pitched, her foot in constant contact with the pitching rubber until she released the softball. The Pink Sox batter swung at the new white ball. It bounced one time toward third base. Madison Moore caught it before it could bounce again and threw it across to first. Her throw was a little wild, but Jasmine Brown stretched her long frame out, keeping her toe on the bag and the base umpire waved the runner out.
Emilee felt a little better as the big crowd yelled encouragement while applauding the play. The second Pink Sox batter walked to the plate. The public address system, with the announcer calling out the name of each player, made the second batter appear a little uncomfortable. She grinned sheepishly while walking up to the plate.
Madelyn, pitching effortlessly, got two strikes over on her and then the Pink Sox batter hit a ground ball down to Sarah Anderson at short. Sarah rushed the ball and it went through her legs.
Emilee raced over to second to cover on the throw in from the outfield and saw little Sofia Hernandez let the ball go through her legs also and the crown howled as the Pink Sox runner sprinted around the bases for a run, the ball rolling out to the center-field fence.
Emilee felt sick. She looked over at Sarah who was kicking at the ground, her face pale. Madison Moore was scowling on third, pounding her glove and Emilee had a good idea what Madison thought of Sarah.
Out in center field little Sofia looked as if she were ready to cry. On what should have been an infield out a Pink Sox player had scored a run, putting the Pink Sox ahead, one to nothing.
Madelyn was not pleased either. She scowled from the pitcher’s circle as she prepared to pitch again. She bore down hard, striking out the two Pink Sox batters, each on three straight pitches, to retire the side.
Emilee heard Madison Moore say bitterly as they came into the dugout, “What do you expect? We’ll never get anywhere with her at short.”
Sarah heard the remark and her face was red and as she went out to bat, leading off for the Purple Panthers.
Coach Wilson said quietly, “Okay, gang. Let us not worry about one run. We will get it back. Everybody in there now, talk it up.”
Sarah struck out, swinging at a very high pitch. She came back to the dugout dragging her bat. Emilee, who was second in the batting order, stepped up to the plate with her throat very dry.
Destiny Johnson, who was down in the third base coaching box yelled, “Start us off, Emilee.”
The Pink Sox pitcher was a left-hander and she threw hard. Coach Wilson called from the dugout,
“Make her put it over, Emilee.”
Emilee gripped her new bat tightly, watching the pitcher. The first pitch was right over the heart of the plate and she swung hard. There was a resounding and distinctive metal “tink” as the composite bat met the ball cleanly and the ball arched out over second base, the first clean hit of the evening as well as the first clean hit of the new Little League Softball season!
The crowd yelled and the Purple Panther players in the dugout screamed. Maria Rodriguez, coaching from first, pounded Emilee’s back happily.
Jasmine Brown walked to the plate and looked at the dugout for her signal from Coach Wilson. They had worked out a very nice set of signals for the season. Each player had her own spo
t depending on her place in the lineup that coach would touch for that players’ signal. One touch on your spot while you were batting meant bunt, while one touch on your spot when you were on base meant steal.
Coach’s right knee was for spot number one, her right hip number two, the inside of her right elbow the third spot, and her right shoulder number four. The top of Coach’s head was the fifth spot and the remaining spots went down her left side just like the right side for spots six, seven, eight, and nine. Since Jasmine was the third batter in the lineup, her spot would be inside the right elbow of Coach Wilson. If coach did not touch that spot, it meant Jasmine could hit away.
A player really had to pay attention because coach would touch five to seven different spots before every pitch. Emilee thought it was probably a good way for coach to handle her game time energy and an excellent way to keep each player focused.
Jasmine Brown looked down at Emilee as Emilee stood on the base. Then she tugged at her cap and took the first pitch for a ball. Jasmine swung at the second pitch and hit a long fly to center field. The Pink Sox center fielder caught it for the second out with Hannah coming up for the Purple Panthers.
In the Purple Panther dugout, coach had touched her left hip while flashing signs to Emilee and Emilee knew exactly what that meant. Emilee touched her cap to signal that she had caught the steal sign from coach. The Pink Sox left-hander was watching her carefully and the big Pink Sox catcher pounded her glove, both of them sure she was going to steal.
Starting with the first movement of the left-handed pitcher towards home, the way coach had taught them in practice, Emilee had a good jump on her, and she needed it. She ran as hard as she could and slid on her hip as she neared the bag. The catcher’s throw was there but the second baseman dropped the ball as Emilee slid into the bag.
“Safe,” yelled the field ump.
The Purple Panthers on the bench yelled happily and then they screamed when Hannah swung at the next pitch, hitting it over the left field fence for a home run. The fence was one hundred and seventy five feet away and the ball had no problem clearing it by another twenty feet.
The Purple Panther fans in the stands stood up, cheering as Hannah proudly loped around the bases, pumping her fist as she came into home because her home run put the Purple Panthers into the lead 2 to 1.
Emilee slapped Hannah’s back as she came into the dugout and she heard Hannah say softly,
“That’s one.”
Emilee glanced at her, not particularly liking the statement. It was not one, but two runs for the Purple Panthers, but it sounded as if Hannah was not thinking about the Purple Panther runs; she was thinking about herself and the big gold trophy awarded to the girl hitting the most home runs in the Lake Forbing Little League Softball league at the end of the season. To Hannah it was, therefore, one home run.
In the third inning, the Pink Sox tied up the score on an error by Sarah at short. With a runner on third and two out, Sarah bobbled the ball in the infield, letting the runner come in.
Madison Moore had a fit on third base. She kicked at the dirt again and she shook her head in disgust. She looked over at Coach Wilson as if the fault were hers for putting Sarah in the game.
“Shake it off, forget it,” coach called from the dugout. “We’ll get it back.”
Madelyn was also fuming in the pitching circle because two unearned runs had scored and Madelyn was pitching a good game, having given up only one clean hit so far.
Emilee trotted in to the circle to have a word with Madelyn and said, “Don’t let it worry you, Madelyn.”
“I can’t strike them all out,” Madelyn complained. “I need support out there too.”
Emilee saw Isabella Lopez watching the pitcher grimly, hands on her hips. “Play ball,’ Isabella called tersely from the plate.
The game got under way again and Madelyn retired the side with no more runs. Trouble broke out in the Purple Panther dugout, however, when the Purple Panthers came in at the end of the inning. Madison Moore made another remark and this time Sarah came back at her. Sarah said quietly,
“I don’t have to take that from you, Madison.”
The redhead looked at her. “Is that what you think?” she murmured.
“Yes,” Sarah snapped. “I’m not afraid of you.”
“Maybe we…” Madison started to say and then Coach Wilson came in between them saying with a good-natured smile, “Let’s forget it.” Coach then looked around the dugout and said, “We’re all pals here.”
Emilee saw the troubled look deep down in the tall woman’s eyes, however, and she realized coach was worried. This different mix of girls, this collection of different characters, seemed to be cracking up in the first game of the season.
In the fifth inning, the Pink Sox scored two more runs and there was an error this time by Jasmine Brown at first base. Madelyn Taylor walked out of the circle in disgust at the end of the inning with the score 4 to 2 for the Pink Sox.
It was still 4 to 2 in the bottom of the sixth and last inning, with the game apparently in the bag for the Pink Sox. The Pink Sox left-hander, ably coached by Melissa Williams, had pitched a beautiful softball game so far, allowing only three hits while walking two players. Isabella Lopez had doubled in the fourth inning, but she stayed there, stranded on second base.
Across the field, Melissa Williams sat in her dugout, smiling, very pleased with her first Pink Sox victory, or so she must have thought. Then the Purple Panthers pounced. Madison Moore, leading off, singled over first base, her first hit in the league, and she ran down to the bag, yelling at the top of her lungs.
Coach Wilson immediately called for a bunt because little Sofia Hernandez bunted very well and could run like a deer. Sofia dropped the bunt along third base and shot away from home plate with the speed of an arrow. She was past the bag when the first baseman caught the throw and both girls were safe.
The Purple Panther fans started to make noise in the stands. Isabella Lopez was coming up and Isabella had hit the ball hard the last time up. She was going to hit it again; you could feel it. Emilee could tell from the way she stood there, with her legs braced and her bat still on her shoulder, just staring at the pitcher. She was hitting away and that she did, on the first pitch, driving the ball through the left center field gap, scoring Moore and putting Hernandez on third. She went into second for her second double of the evening. The score was now 4 to 3 for the Pink Sox.
Melissa Williams came out of the dugout, no longer smiling, muttering under her breath. She called for time and she had a few words with her left-hander. Madelyn, a very good batter, was up to hit, but this time she would not hit the ball very far. Her roller back to the pitcher was the first out of the inning. Sofia held at third after being looked back by the Pink Sox pitcher.
With one out, the Pink Sox intentionally walked Sarah Anderson, loading the bases to set up for a double play that would retire the side and win the game.
Emilee, next girl in line to bat, crouched in the batter on-deck circle, watching while they intentionally walked Sarah. Coach Wilson came out to talk to her as Sarah trotted down to first base.
The crowd was yelling now. Emilee could see her father standing up, watching her. She held in her hands the new bat her father had helped her purchase that afternoon, the same with which she had hit her single earlier in the game. She had to hit again now or the Purple Panthers would go down to their first defeat.
Coach Wilson said quietly, “You can hit this girl, Emilee. You have hit her before. Make her put it over the plate in your zone. Do not try to crush it. All we need is a base hit to win the game. Just put your bat on the ball. The ball will go all by itself.”
“All right,” Emilee muttered. She was nervous now, her legs weak, and her hands sweating. She rubbed dirt on the bat and she stepped into the batter’s box.
Melissa Williams was calling to the pitcher, “C’mon, c’mon. You’ve got this girl, Josie.”
Emilee really resented that remark an
d she stepped back out of the box to clear her mind of it. She had to focus. Even though Coach Williams already considered her out, Emilee wanted very much to beat the ex-pro and her Pink Sox who most people in town thought would win this softball game and dominate the Lake Forbing American league.
The left-handed Pink Sox pitcher was on the pitching rubber, looking at her and then she started her wind up. The softball came in a little wide of the plate. Emilee let it go for a called ball.
She adjusted her batting helmet and dug in again, remembering Coach Wilson’s words. She was to just meet the ball, get the barrel of her bat on it solidly and the softball would do the rest.
The next pitch was a riser and Emilee swung at it, fouling it back into the backstop behind the catcher, making the count one and one. The entire Purple Panther team was on the dugout steps, yelling for that hit now and the Pink Sox were chattering in the infield.
Emilee dug in at the plate. She was not as tall as Jasmine Brown, nor as solidly built as Hannah Miller or Madison Moore; but, she was not weak and she could hit a ball pretty far when she caught hold of it. She stepped out of the box and thought about the left field fence one hundred seventy five feet away. A home run with the bases loaded, a grand slam in her first game of Little League Softball would really be something, but then she remembered Coach Wilson’s comment. The Purple Panthers did not need a home run to win this game. A base hit would be perfect.
The left-hander threw another pitch and it was again outside for a ball. Emilee stepped outside the box and looked over at Coach Wilson. The Purple Panther coach just smiled at her confidently, pointing toward the outfield.
The next pitch was in her zone and Emilee swung. She literally saw the ball hit the bat barrel; she heard the distinctive “tink” sound in her ears and her heart leaped with joy as the softball darted between shortstop and third base, rolling to the outfield.
As she raced madly toward first base, she heard the roar of the crowd from the stands. Two Purple Panther runners pounded over the plate and then all of the Purple Panther players raced out to first base to pound and jump on Emilee’s back. Emilee saw her father standing up, shouting, and grinning.
“You did it, Emilee!” Madison Moore howled. “That’s number one for the Purple Panthers.”
Walking back to the dugout and seeing the smiling Coach Wilson, Emilee Davis was thinking Little League Softball was so much. Her team, the Lake Forbing Purple Panthers, was the best of the eight teams in their league, maybe best in their district, maybe best in their section, or maybe the best fastpitch softball team in the whole world!
CHAOS
