“Sorry we can’t help you,” Jack said to the twins.
“Don’t worry. We always watch from Bedford Avenue,” Otis said. “We lie on the sidewalk—”
“And peek under a gate,” Olive whispered.
“We can see most of center field from there,” said Otis. “And a little bit of left field.”
“Hey! Batboys!” the guard shouted.
“Gotta go,” said Jack. “Thanks a lot!”
“Yeah, thanks a million!” said Annie.
She and Jack hurried through the turnstile and followed the guard. Then they crossed a ramp and headed into the ballpark.
“You’re working for the Braves,” the guard said. “I’ll get the clubhouse manager. Wait here.” And he walked away.
“Oh, man,” Jack breathed as he and Annie looked around. Compared to the Little League ballpark back home, Ebbets Field was huge.
Fans were filling the stands. A band was playing “Take Me Out to the Ball Game.” The breezy air smelled of roasting peanuts, hot dogs, and grilled onions. On the field, umpires in dark suits were talking to each other.
Around the baseball diamond, team members were playing catch. The men all wore jerseys with blue letters that spelled DODGERS.
“Look at the Dodgers batboys,” said Annie. “They’re helping their team warm up.”
“Those batboys look twice our age,” said Jack.
“I know,” said Annie. “But our caps must make everyone see us as teenagers, too.”
“That’s so incredible,” said Jack, smiling. He loved looking older. He loved working for a big-league game. He loved the sights, sounds, and smells of Ebbets Field.
“The fans are really dressed up,” said Annie.
In the stands, the men and boys wore suits and hats. The women and girls wore dresses, jackets, and white gloves. It was really different from Frog Creek. At the ballpark at home, grown-ups and kids wore jeans, shorts, and sweatpants.
Jack noticed something else that was different from Frog Creek. Here, half the stands were filling up with mostly white people. The other half were filling up with mostly black people. At home, people of all colors sat together.
Annie pointed to a black Dodgers player signing autographs on baseballs. “Who’s he?” she said.
Black fans were shouting and waving at the player. Reporters were trying to interview him. A photographer was taking pictures.
“I don’t know. He must be a big star,” said Jack.
“Hey, batboys! You’re late!” someone shouted.
Jack and Annie whirled around.
A short, wiry man was striding toward them. He must be the manager of the visitors’ clubhouse, Jack thought.
“You’ve only got forty minutes!” the man roared. “The Braves will be here any moment. Their trunks have just been delivered from the station!” He pointed at the door of the clubhouse. “Go inside and get to work!”
“Yes, sir!” said Jack and Annie.
Without another word, they hurried inside the visitors’ clubhouse. And they got to work!
Jack and Annie knew exactly what to do. Jack felt like he’d been a batboy all his life. He hung his bag on a hook. Then he and Annie headed for the equipment trunks lined up near the door.
They started with a trunk labeled UNIFORMS. They opened the lid. They pulled out white jerseys with red letters that spelled BRAVES.
Together, they swiftly hung up all the uniforms in a row of lockers. They finished just as the Braves arrived.
All the men laughed and joked with each other as they spilled into the clubhouse. No one spoke to Jack or Annie, though. In fact, no one even looked at them.
Jack and Annie paid no attention to the team, either. Their magic caps helped them know the rules: Batboys never bother the players. They never get in their way.
Next Jack opened an equipment trunk labeled CLEATS & HELMETS. He and Annie pulled out baseball shoes and batting gear.
They used rags to wipe everything off. Then they quickly lined up the shoes on benches.
Jack and Annie hurried to a trunk labeled BATS. Together they pushed the trunk out of the visitors’ clubhouse and toward the ball field.
“Yikes, look at the time!” said Annie. She pointed to a large clock over the scoreboard. “We only have twenty minutes till the game starts.”
“And lots more to do!” said Jack. “Full speed!”
They pushed the trunk over to the visitors’ dugout under the stands. Then, racing against the clock, they flew through the rest of their tasks.
Jack quickly unloaded bats from the trunk. He handed them to Annie. She placed them on the shelves of a bat rack inside the dugout.
They rushed back to the visitors’ clubhouse and unloaded another trunk. They pulled out a first-aid kit, shin guards, a catcher’s mitt and mask, and boxes of chewing gum. They carried all these things to the Braves dugout.
By now, the home team, the Brooklyn Dodgers, had left the field. The visiting Boston Braves had started their warm-up. The noise in the ballpark was deafening. The stands were full.
“Hey, batboys!” a girl yelled.
“Get us an autographed ball!” a boy yelled.
Jack looked up. Kids were shouting at them from the stands.
“An autographed ball!”
“Please! Please!”
“Sorry!” yelled Annie.
Jack shook his head. They both knew the rule: Batboys never do favors for fans.
Jack and Annie hurried back into the clubhouse. They unloaded towels from a trunk. They filled jugs with water from a sink. They packed baseballs into a canvas bag. Then they carried everything to the dugout and put it in all the right places.
“Uniforms, cleats, shin guards, masks…,” said Annie.
“Water, first-aid kit, bats, towels, baseballs, chewing gum,” said Jack. “Anything else?”
“Nope. We did it!” said Annie, looking at the clock. It was 2:25. The game would start in five minutes.
“Good job, boys!” said the clubhouse manager as he passed by.
“Thanks,” said Annie.
Jack and Annie quickly took their seats on the bench in the dugout. The Boston Braves players sat near them, looking tense. Some scowled and folded their arms. Others chewed gum or tapped their feet.
A voice came over the loudspeaker: “Ladies and gentlemen, please rise for the national anthem.”
The crowd stood. The players stepped out of the dugout and placed their baseball caps over their hearts.
Oh, no! thought Jack. He and Annie couldn’t take their caps off! If they did, everyone would see them as young kids—and see Annie as a girl!
Annie took Jack’s arm. She pulled him back into a shadowy area inside the dugout. There, they placed only their hands over their hearts. Jack desperately hoped none of the players would turn around and notice them.
A man sang “The Star-Spangled Banner” in a deep, rich voice.
O say can you see,
By the dawn’s early light,
What so proudly we hailed
At the twilight’s last gleaming…
Jack nervously kept his eyes on the flag flapping in the breeze. Hurry, hurry, he thought.
Finally the singer sang the last lines:
O say does that star-spangled banner yet wave
O’er the land of the free
And the home of the brave?
The national anthem was over. The players all put their caps back on.
“Play ball!” roared an umpire at home plate.
“Whew,” Jack said to Annie, and they stepped out from the dugout.
Noise filled the park—fans cheering, horns honking, bells clanging.
“See ya!” said Annie.
“Yep!” said Jack.
They both knew exactly what to do.
Annie was in charge of bats. She ran to the batting circle. She knelt on the ground, ready to pick up the bats the players dropped at home plate.
Jack was in charge of baseball
s. He hauled the canvas bag over to a stool near the edge of the diamond. He sat down.
A strong breeze gusted over Ebbets Field. Jack pulled his cap down firmly on his head. Then he leaned forward to watch the game. His heart was racing.
Now the hard part begins, he thought.
Jack kept an eagle eye on all the players. He watched the Dodgers take their positions on the field.
He watched the Braves batter choose a bat and head to home plate.
He watched the Dodgers pitcher wind up and throw.
The Braves batter hit the ball hard. It landed outside the foul line.
“Foul ball!” called the umpire.
Jack jumped up and ran to get the ball. He tossed it smoothly to the umpire at home plate. Then he returned to his stool.
Now and then the wind gusted through the ballpark. But each time, Jack grabbed his cap to make sure it stayed on his head.
The pitcher pitched another ball.
The batter swung his bat. He missed.
“Strike!”
The pitcher pitched again.
The batter hit a ground ball. He dropped his bat and ran toward first base.
The pitcher snatched up the ball and threw it. The first baseman caught it—just before the batter reached the base!
“Out!” called the first-base umpire.
The Dodgers fans cheered. The Braves fans booed.
Annie picked up the player’s bat and returned it to the dugout.
Jack darted to home plate and gave new baseballs to the umpire.
As the game went on, Jack and Annie stayed in the center of the action. But they never got in the way.
Annie picked up bats that the players dropped and replaced them in the rack.
Jack kept a close eye on all the baseballs. He counted the ones that went into the stands. He raced after foul balls. He carried three balls to the umpire for every three lost.
Fans cheered and booed. If the musicians in the stands didn’t agree with an umpire’s call, they played “Three Blind Mice.”
Finally the Braves had three outs. It was time for the Dodgers to bat. Now their batboys would look after the balls and bats.
Jack and Annie headed to the clubhouse to get more water and towels for their team.
“Hey, kid!” A Braves coach pointed at Jack. “Move down the line.”
Jack understood perfectly. Holding on to his cap, he jogged out to center field.
Jack sat on a stool close to the stands. His job now was to retrieve ground balls outside the foul lines.
Within minutes, a foul rolled into right field. Jack ran and grabbed it. He tossed it perfectly to a Dodgers batboy.
“Yes!” Jack said to himself. He couldn’t wait to throw again. He sat back on his stool, pressed his cap down on his head, and waited eagerly for more ground balls.
But as the Dodgers kept batting, no more balls came Jack’s way. For the first time, he had a moment to think.
Why did Morgan send us to this particular game? Jack wondered. Why did she call it “a big day for baseball”? Why did Otis say it was a big day, too? So far, the game was pretty ordinary, Jack thought. It was even a little boring.
Plus, how was being a batboy supposed to make him a great player? He had only thrown a couple of balls, and he wouldn’t get to bat at all!
“Hey, batboy!” a kid called from the stands behind him.
More souvenir seekers, Jack thought.
“An autographed ball!” another kid yelled.
Jack ignored the kids’ shouting. He refused to look over his shoulder.
“A Dodgers cap!” “A Braves cap!” “Your cap!”
The begging soon turned to heckling and booing.
“Go home!”
“Go back where you came from!”
What do they mean? thought Jack. Can they tell I’m from Frog Creek?
He tried to ignore all the shouting. But the hecklers sounded different now. Their voices had grown harsh and mean. They sounded like grown-ups, not kids.
“You don’t belong here!”
“Throw him out, ump!”
Jack started to get angry. This was more than just annoying.
“Get out of here!” another heckler shouted.
Jack couldn’t help it. He whirled around and yelled, “You get out of here!”
To his surprise, Jack saw that the hecklers weren’t yelling at him—or even looking at him.
“Don’t let him bat!” someone shouted.
“Throw him out!” said another.
They were shouting at the Dodgers player who was up at bat. Many in the stands were cheering for him. But these few were yelling really mean things.
Why? Jack looked around. The batter was the black player he’d seen earlier. He seemed to be the only black player in the game. Is that why these people are yelling? Jack wondered.
The batter hit a ground ball to third base.
The third baseman grabbed it. He threw it to first.
“Out!” the umpire shouted.
“That’s right! Throw him out!” a woman shrieked.
Jack was stunned. He didn’t understand. The player ignored the jeers and walked calmly back to the dugout. He held his head high.
Jack wished he could go talk to the player. He wanted to say something kind and supportive.
Suddenly a new batter hit a ground ball to left field. It was outside the line.
“Foul!” the umpire shouted.
Jack ran to get the ball.
At the same time, a kid jumped over the wall of the stands. The kid ran to get the foul ball, too.
Jack got there first. But as he bent down to grab the ball, the wind blew his cap off. The other boy snatched Jack’s cap from the grass and took off!
“Hey!” shouted Jack. “Give that back!”
Jack had to get his cap! But first he had to get rid of the ball he was holding.
A Dodgers batboy at home plate held up his glove.
Jack hurled the ball toward him. But his throw didn’t go very far. It nearly hit the umpire at first base.
The umpire yelled at Jack. So did some fans.
Jack was in shock. He didn’t know what to do. He looked around for the kid who had stolen his cap, but the kid was gone.
The umpire shouted something to a security guard on the sidelines. The guard started toward Jack.
Jack began running along the outfield wall toward the dugout. He had to get Annie! They had to get out of the ballpark!
Jack didn’t see Annie in the Braves dugout. So he dashed inside the clubhouse. He grabbed his bag and threw it over his shoulder. Then he looked around wildly.
No one was there.
“Annie!” Jack shouted. “Annie!”
“What?” she called back.
Jack tore around the corner. He found Annie filling water jugs in the kitchen area.
“We have to go!” Jack cried. “Some kid stole my cap! A security guard is after me!”
“Oh, no!” said Annie.
The door to the clubhouse banged open.
Annie rushed over to Jack. She pulled off her magic cap and placed it on his head. Then she hid behind the door.
The guard and the clubhouse manager came around the corner to the kitchen area.
“Hello, kid,” the guard said, nodding at Jack. He was the same guard who’d brought them into the ballpark.
“Hello,” said Jack. Annie’s cap made him feel calm and confident again.
“Did you see a young boy come in here?” the guard asked.
“A young boy?” Jack asked.
“A skinny little guy wearing glasses,” the guard said. “He was trespassing on the field.”
“Oh. No, sir,” said Jack, shaking his head. “I didn’t see a skinny little guy.”
“Okay.” The guard turned to the clubhouse manager. “Let’s check outside.”
As they turned to go, the manager spied Annie behind the door.
“Hey! What are you doing in here, missy?”
he said.
“I’m a batboy,” said Annie.
“No, you’re not! You’re a little girl!” said the manager.
“You can’t be in here!” shouted the guard. “We’ll lose our jobs!”
“Wait!” said Jack. He pulled off the magic cap and tossed it to Annie.
She put it on and looked up. “See? I’m a batboy!” she said.
The clubhouse manager and the guard looked very confused. They squinted at Annie.
“Oh, I see that now,” the manager grumbled. “Well, we’d better look outside.”
But as the guard turned to Jack, he gasped. “Wait a minute! You’re the little kid we’re looking for!”
“No! He’s not!” said Annie. “He’s a batboy!” She pulled off the magic cap and tried to put it on Jack’s head.
The guard snatched it away from her. “I’ll take that!”
“I don’t know what’s going on here,” said the manager, “but you kids have to get out—now!”
“Uh, can we take the water jugs to the guys first?” said Annie. “The team is thirsty.”
“NO!” yelled the clubhouse manager and the guard together.
“March!” said the guard.
Jack and Annie headed for the door.
Outside the clubhouse, the security guard pointed toward the exit.
“That way!” he said.
Jack kept his head down as he walked with Annie. The two men followed them. Jack hoped no one was watching. When he heard laughter, he was sure people were laughing at them.
“Hurry up!” ordered the manager.
Jack and Annie stepped from the open park onto the ramp. They walked ahead of the guard and the manager through a turnstile. Then they headed into the huge round lobby.
Ticket sellers gawked at them as they crossed the room. The guard and the manager led them out through one of the doors.
Outside on the street, Annie stopped and looked at the manager. “Sir, remember—”
“Keep going!” the guard said.
“Remember when you said, ‘Good job, boys’?” Annie said. “That was us.”
The manager ignored her.
A Big Day for Baseball Page 2
