Little League Softball Champs

by Joe Jackson

Two days after the win over Mooringsport Emilee heard the news of the trouble at the Lake Forbing Cotton Mills. She knew Coach Wilson had a job at the mills and had been there for a number of years.

  Maria Rodriguez, whose father also worked in the mills, told Emilee about it.

  “Coach was up for a promotion in her department,” Maria explained. “Everybody thought she was surely going to be a superintendent, but another woman got the job and we all know why.”

  “What do you mean?” Emilee asked slowly.

  “Mr. Taylor didn’t like it that coach took Madelyn out of the game against Mooringsport,” Maria said bluntly. “That was her way of getting back at coach. She could not fire coach because the union would not let her. That’s how Mr. Taylor got around it.”

  “But,” Emilee sputtered, “Madelyn was tired. She even knew herself that it was better she was relieved. Coach Wilson even told her why she had to take her out.”

  “I guess Madelyn’s father didn’t look at it that way,” Maria growled. “He thought his precious daughter was knocked out of the game because coach did not leave her in. He probably felt that coach embarrassed Madelyn in front of thousands of people. Therefore, he retaliated by not giving coach the promotion she deserved and was supposed to get.

  “Does Madelyn know about this?” Emilee asked.

  “I haven’t seen Madelyn since the Mooringsport game,” Maria said, “but I’ll bet she knows it and I’ll bet she’s glad.”

  “I don’t believe it,” Emilee said firmly. “Madelyn is not like that. She is a very compassionate person.”

  “I don’t know what she’s like,” Maria said. “All I know is that coach was supposed to get that promotion and she didn’t get it. Pop says all the people in her department are talking about it.”

  Emilee went immediately to coach’s rooming house. It was nearly four-thirty in the afternoon and coach was due back from the plant in a few minutes. Emilee sat on the porch waiting for her, feeling a little sick about the whole business, knowing the effect it would have upon the team. Madelyn Taylor was their star pitcher and without Madelyn, they would go nowhere in the tournament. Now, many of the players might dislike Madelyn intensely and turn against her, thinking she had been behind the trouble at the mill.

  Coach came down the sidewalk carrying her lunch cooler. As she eased up on the porch, she looked at Emilee and smiled, saying, “How goes it, captain. What’s going on?”

  Emilee was not sure how to begin. She finally blurted out, “Is it true, coach, that you didn’t get a promotion at the mill because you took Madelyn out of the game against Mooringsport?”

  Coach Wilson looked at Emilee and frowned. “Who’s making that kind of talk up?” she asked quietly.

  “It’s, it’s going around,” Emilee scowled. “Is it true, coach?”

  Coach Wilson touched her chin and then laughed. “Look kid,” she said, “maybe a lot of people thought I was in line to be promoted and if they did, they thought wrong. Maybe this other person got the promotion because she is the better person for the job. I’m not upset about it.”

  “But it’s wrong,” Emilee protested. “If Mr. Taylor was behind it because you took his daughter out of the game that is wrong. Obviously, Madelyn had never been removed from the game before and Mr. Taylor didn’t like it.”

  Coach laughed again. “As far as I’m concerned,” she said, “Mr. Taylor doesn’t even know I work at the mill. There are over two thousand men and women at that plant. I’m just one little woman in one small department.”

  “”I want to talk to Madelyn about it,” Emilee said.

  Coach Wilson shook her head emphatically. “I don’t want you to do that, Emilee,” she said quickly. “Keep Madelyn out of it. If there is anything behind this crazy story, Madelyn had nothing to do with it. I’ll personally guarantee that.”

  Emilee left after a while, promising that she would not speak to Madelyn about it, but she certainly did not feel very happy about the situation.

  There was a practice session scheduled for the next evening with the second game of the district tournament to take place the following day. They had drawn Fillmore, a town sixty miles away.

  Emilee arrived at the park practice field a little before five o’clock, walking down with Destiny Johnson. As she crossed the street and entered the park, she saw a tight knot of Purple Panther players on the infield and then she heard the sounds. They were not pleasant at all.

  “It’s a catfight, Emilee,” Destiny said quickly.

  Her heart pumping, Emilee raced toward the scene. It had been a long time since any of the Purple Panther players had fought another, but there was a fight and they were throwing punches now. Emilee could now see the two girls in the middle of the group, pummeling each other.

  “Isabella,” Destiny Johnson panted.

  Emilee thought at first that Isabella was fighting Madison Moore because of the issues between them, but when she pushed through the crowd of yelling girls, she saw that Isabella’s opponent was Madelyn Taylor. Madelyn’s nose was bleeding, but she seemed to be holding her own, giving as much as she got.

  “Hold it!” Emilee yelled.

  Destiny Johnson grabbed Madelyn and Emilee came up behind Isabella, holding her arms, pulling the two girls apart.

  “All right,” Isabella snarled. “Let me alone, Emilee.”

  “What’s the matter?” Emilee asked her. “This is foolish, Isabella.”

  “It’s not funny to our coach,” Isabella snapped. “That girl’s father gave her a dirty deal at the mill just because his prized daughter was taken out of a game.”

  “I have no idea what you are talking about,” Madelyn flared. “I just heard about it here.”

  “You put her up to it,” Isabella said bitterly. “You’re a spoiled rotten brat and you can’t take it.”

  Madelyn tried to break away from Destiny Johnson and throw a punch, but Madison Moore stepped in to help Destiny and they both held Madelyn firmly.

  “There is coach now,” Sofia Hernandez called. “Better break it up.”

  Emilee released Isabella as Destiny and Madison let Madelyn loose. Madelyn walked away, pinching her nose to stop the bleeding. Coach Wilson strolled up, her face expressionless. Emilee was positive she had seen some of the catfight from a distance, but she said nothing about it.

  “Let’s get going team,” the Purple Panther coach said.

  They held an easy practice session that included batting and bunting practice, drilling the infield with grounders and game situations, and plenty of fly balls to the outfield. Madelyn came over to Emilee after the infield session and she said slowly, “What’s all this about, Emilee?”

  Emilee explained the rumor going around while Madelyn listened, biting her lips.

  “My father never tells me anything about his business,” she said slowly when Emilee finished.

  “I was sure of that,” Emilee said heartily. I’m not blaming you even if it did happen that way, Madelyn.”

  “I’m going to speak to my father about this,” Madelyn promised. “I’d rather not pitch anymore than have this happen.

  “If you don’t pitch,” Emilee told her, “we’ll never get beyond Fillmore tomorrow evening. Destiny Johnson is pretty good, but we need you, Madelyn, against these top teams.”

  Madelyn said slowly, “Coach told me she was starting me against Fillmore tomorrow. It doesn’t look as if she’s trying to get back at my father, does, it?”

  “Coach isn’t built that way,” Emilee said.

  “She has a right to, though,” Madelyn murmured. “She should have been sore and she should have started Destiny Johnson out of spite.”

  “Coach wants to win,” Emilee said. “That’s all she thinks about and I’m sure she doesn’t believe you were behind any of this business. She said she thinks this whole story is nonsense. Besides, being spiteful or vengeful is not who coach is.”

  “I don’t believe it was a mistake,” Madelyn said. “I, I’m really sorry
about my father’s decision, Emilee. I wished it had never happened.”

  At the end of the practice session as it was getting dark, coach called a halt. When the players came in from the field, she said quietly,

  “Everybody sit down on.”

  The Purple Panther squad sat down, with Coach Wilson standing up in front of them. Emilee started to chew on the edge of her batting glove. She looked up at the Purple Panther coach outlined against the pink evening sky. Coach seemed very tall. She did not look so homely in the dim light. As Emilee stared at her, it appeared as if Coach’s features had changed. She was still thin in the face with her carroty hair mussed a little, but the twilight skies made her look big and strong.

  Coach Wilson said, “We’ve had a little more trouble on this team and I guess we all feel bad about it. I do not like it because this is a good team and it could go a long way in this tournament. I do not believe I have ever seen a more gifted and talented young girl’s team anywhere. Each of you seems to have a natural ability to play this game, every one of you wants to learn how to get better, and I feel honored to have the privilege of coaching you.”

  The players were listening quietly, hardly moving on the turf.

  “This is a good team,” Coach went on, “but not a great team. However, you girls are so close to being one, a team that could go all the way and win this thing. We have pitching, we have fielding, and we have hitting. We do not have that one combination, though, which we really need to become a great team. We have no team spirit and we lack unity.”

  Emilee saw her put her hands in her pockets and look down at the ground.

  “I don’t know,” she said almost helplessly. “I don’t know what to do. Maybe it is my fault. Maybe it is because you are from so many different backgrounds that you think you cannot get along simply for that reason. There is nothing I can do about those wheels turning inside your heads. However, I can tell you one thing, and that is, we all bleed the same color. We can all, most certainly, get along.”

  She was speaking earnestly now, using her hands. “We have to recognize our troubles and try that much harder to work them out because each of you and I know what it means when we do. Winning this tournament is a pretty, big deal. We can get there and we will get there, but, only as a team of one, a team with one single mission. You must understand, the letter I is not in the word TEAM. Each one of you is going to have to give a little and take a little to get where we want to go as a team. Those wheels inside each of our heads must be spinning in the same direction or we are through. However, if we do come together, please understand you will never forget these moments in your life or forget one another for as long as you live.”

  No one made a sound. They sat on the grass in the park, their faces outlined from the evening light and then Emilee noticed the star, shining brightly, directly above Coach Wilson’s head. It was a very big star, the evening star.

  “There are a dozen of us here,” coach said slowly, “and all of us are members of a Little League Softball team called the Lake Forbing Purple Panthers. Even though each one of you might come from a different part of town or lead a different life away from this team, when we come together on that field of play, we have to show the world that we do get along with each other, that we are a team of one that stands united together. Right here and right now is the place where we must prove that we are a team, that we are dedicated to each other for our team goal.”

  She shoved her hands in her back pockets and she looked down at the players for a moment in silence before going on. They could no longer see her face, but an outline, as the sky was getting dark while she stood with her back towards the remaining light.

  “Maybe this softball team isn’t important to you personally,” coach said, “and maybe the name Little League Softball and the Little League Softball World Series Championship doesn’t mean anything to you, either. If that is so, then we do not need to waste any more time, especially that of our fans, friends and relatives, who are really pulling for us, spending a lot of their time and their hard earned money to see us through to the end.

  Coach paused and her voice became slightly emotional as she said, “If you girls want to win this thing, if you want to experience something you will never, ever forget, we will have to come together as one. We have to forget about who we are and focus on what we want our team to be. We have to be willing to help each other any way we can to get to that Little League Softball World Series Championship and it has to start right here, right now. You think long and hard about what you want and I will see you girls on the bus tomorrow. But remember one thing, there is no letter I in the word TEAM.”

  She turned and walked off into the shadows and the Purple Panther team sat on the grass, not one of them getting up. They just sat there, saying nothing. Then Emilee saw a cigar glowing in the shadows. A man had been standing there, a man with a cigar in his mouth, and Emilee realized that the man was J. C. Taylor, owner of the Lake Forbing Cotton Mills, the richest man in town. He had been listening as coach talked.

  Emilee stood up, knowing that she had to say something as captain of the team, but there was nothing left to say. Coach Wilson had said it all or had she?

  “Okay,” Emilee muttered, “the team meeting is over. We’ll meet at the bus station tomorrow afternoon for the ride down to Fillmore.” Then Emilee did something she had never done before. She stuck her hand out, palm down, and shouted with glistening eyes,

  “I’m in. Who’s with me?”

  Suddenly, as if a lightening bolt had hit the ground, the Purple Panther players all jumped up at once as one unit, trying to be the first to grab Emilee’s hand. They formed a team huddle in doing so, jumping up and down. Then Isabella Lopez shouted out, “Let’s go get ‘em, girls, let’s go get ‘em.” The rest of the Purple Panthers replied screaming the words slowly and in rhythm,

  “Let’s get ‘ur done, let’s get ‘ur done, let’s get ‘ur done...”

  They all shook hands and slapped each other on the back, then the conversation immediately turned to beating Fillmore. Laughing and yelling, some with eyes glistening, the Purple Panthers were ready to play ball right now. Tomorrow could not come soon enough.

  Emilee walked home with Destiny Johnson and neither of them said anything until they were near Emilee’s door, and then Destiny said slowly,

  “You know something, Emilee?”

  “What?” Emilee responded.

  “That Coach Wilson,” Destiny murmured, “she’s a great woman, Emilee.”

  “I know,” Emilee nodded. She had known that for quite some time.

  Mrs. Davis was sitting up in the shadows on the porch when Emilee walked up the steps to her home, the newspaper on the floor next to her chair. Emilee heard the chair squeak a little and then her mother said,

  “How did it go, Emilee?”

  Emilee went over and sat down on the porch ledge, “I guess it was all right,” she muttered.

  “You’ve been worried the past few days,” her Mom said quietly. “Get it off your mind, Emilee. Is it the team again?”

  Emilee nodded and told her Mom about the catfight between Madelyn Taylor and Isabella Lopez and of coach not getting the promotion at work. However, when her talk turned to the team speech from coach, her face lit up and her Mom saw it.

  “Things are never as bad as they seem, Emilee,” her Mom told her. “You will see. You would never think a small softball team of girls could become so messy, but I suppose the drama with girls is so much like the drama with grown women. Your teammates have had their troubles, Emilee, but I simply see it as a team with growing pains. I believe you’re going to work through these problems, your team is going to continue to mature and grow, and I really believe better things are ahead for you and that Purple Panther team of yours.”

  “Do you?” Emilee asked with wide, excited eyes.

  “I think it’ll all work out before you know it,” her Mom assured her. “Just keep your pretty head up. Do not let anything di
scourage you. Always remember that if you want to see a rainbow, you must have a little rain.”

  “Okay,” Emilee grinned. “I feel better already, Mom.”

  “That’s my girl,” her Mom said softly.

  MOVING FORWARD