Change Up

by Derek Jeter

  “I’m not. He spent the entire practice fooling around and being annoying—and Dad didn’t do anything about it.”

  His mom took him by the shoulders and looked him right in the eye. “Derek,” she said. “I appreciate you sharing your feelings with me. But you’ve got to give your dad some time, and some slack. Remember, he’s your dad, not everyone else’s. He can’t just deal with them as if they were you.”

  “But—”

  “Coaches have a lot to do, old man, and you’ve got to trust Dad and Chase to get it done.”

  “But if he doesn’t get Gary off the team soon, we’re going to lose!”

  “Derek, you know your father couldn’t do that, not even if he wanted to. And he wouldn’t anyway. You’ve got to remember, Little League is for everyone who wants to play, not just for the good athletes.”

  “It’s not just that he stinks at baseball. It’s that he hates sports!”

  “Derek, I can understand how you feel,” Mrs. Jeter said gently. “But I have to say, I think Dad was right when he said to just take care of your own game. He’s pretty good at problem solving, but he’s got to concentrate on the whole team, and he needs to be able to count on you giving it your best.”

  “But, Mom—”

  “What did I just say?” She stopped him. “Trust your dad, and trust Chase. And remember, Rome wasn’t built in a day.”

  After giving him a kiss on the forehead, she got up and went to the door. “Try to get some sleep, all right, old man? And trust your father.”

  “Thanks, Mom,” Derek said. “I’ll think about it.”

  “G’night,” she said, blowing him a kiss and closing the door.

  Derek lay there in the dark, thinking over what she’d said. He felt somewhat better. His mom was right, of course—as usual. It was ridiculous for him to doubt his dad. There was no better coach in the world. If Derek’s dad couldn’t make things better, nobody could.

  Still, Gary’s attitude was one thing even his dad might not be able to fix.

  Derek lay there in the dark, unable to sleep, and still feeling troubled, in spite of his mom’s soothing words. This was supposed to be the greatest day of his life. Why did Gary, of all people in the world, have to end up on Derek’s team?

  Chapter Three

  PRANKS AND PUZZLES

  “Okay, get two! Two!”

  Mr. Jeter hit the ball on the ground to Derek at shortstop. Derek scooped it up, wheeled, and fired to Mason, who stepped on second and whipped it to Tito at first. It would have been a great double play if they’d been playing a real game.

  But this was only practice, of course—the team’s second in three days, and only two days before their first game of the season. Chase and Mr. Jeter had started the day with fielding drills, and Derek was right where he felt most comfortable, at short.

  Tito threw the ball in to Chase, who stood near the plate with his mitt on, and Chase handed it back to Mr. Jeter so that he could hit another.

  This was better than their first practice. Much better, Derek thought. Since his conversation with his mom the other night, he’d made up his mind to concentrate only on positive thoughts and banish any negative ones from his mind. To be fair, it was easier today because, as of yet, Gary hadn’t shown up for practice.

  Maybe he’s convinced his mom to let him quit the team! Derek stopped himself from fantasizing about it. It would have been too good to be true if Gary weren’t on the team anymore. But that, he knew, was a negative thought.

  Be a good teammate, he reminded himself, reciting the clause in the contract he’d signed with his parents.

  His contract was incredibly important to Derek. His whole life’s dream—to play shortstop for the New York Yankees someday—depended on his fulfilling his contract. His parents had agreed to back him fully and completely, but only if Derek kept his part of the bargain.

  The contract, which they’d agreed to after much hard bargaining, had some hard-to-keep items on it, and this was proving to be one of them.

  “Okay, heads up in the outfield. Cutoff men, get ready!” Mr. Jeter hit one high and far. Vijay backed up on it, but Dean called for it, and Vijay backed off, even though the ball was closer to him and should have been his.

  Dean fired it back in to Derek, who had jogged out into short left field to take the throw. After grabbing it, he quickly pivoted and threw a strike in to Chase.

  “Attaway!” Chase shouted, pointing his mitt at Derek to indicate what a good job he’d done. Then Chase flipped the ball back to Mr. Jeter.

  “Men on first and second, nobody out. Get ready for the bunt!” Mr. Jeter yelled.

  Derek knew his job was to cover third base if the bunt went that way, second base if the ball went toward first. He bounced up and down on the balls of his feet, ready for either option.

  Just as Mr. Jeter was about to throw the ball into the air, a car pulled up to the curb and Gary got out.

  Rats! thought Derek. He’d shown up after all. Then Derek stopped himself again, realizing he was being negative. But it was so hard not to be when Gary was around!

  “You’re late,” Chase told Gary.

  “Sorry,” Gary said. “I had to go to the doctor. For my asthma.”

  “You have asthma?” Mr. Jeter asked. “It wasn’t on your application form.”

  “Um . . . oh, yeah. I forgot to add it in. . . .”

  “Are you okay to practice, son?”

  “I guess,” Gary said, sounding unsure.

  “Well, go ahead out to left.” Mr. Jeter signaled to Vijay. “Come on in, Vij!”

  Vijay ran in, while Gary walked out to the outfield, taking his sweet time. Clearly, thought Derek, Gary had no intention of breaking a sweat today, or any other day, for that matter.

  As Gary passed him at short, Derek said, “Since when do you have asthma?”

  Gary looked at Derek as if he were stupid, and let out a snort. “Get real,” he said, and kept walking.

  Derek shook his head. Obviously Gary would say or do anything to avoid playing baseball. Derek wondered what his dad would do if he realized Gary had just lied to his face.

  When Mr. Jeter hit Gary a fly ball, Gary barely moved, and Dean had to race over to make the grab. “Good hustle!” Chase shouted. Dean waved back—and so did Gary! As if he’d even moved a muscle to try to catch the ball.

  “Good hustle!” Dean repeated mockingly to Gary. “Next time maybe stick your glove out at least.”

  Gary gave him a smarmy smile, but he clearly had no intention of doing any such thing.

  • • •

  When drills were finished, the coaches divided the teams into two groups for a short scrimmage.

  Sitting on the bench with Gary and three others, waiting for their chance to hit, Derek heard the sound of giggles coming from the other kids seated nearby. Looking up, he saw that they were all looking at him.

  “What?” he asked.

  Eddie dissolved into giggles, and so did Jonah. That made Derek mad.

  “What? What are you laughing at?”

  Laughing so hard that tears were coming out of his eyes, Jonah pointed to Derek’s baseball cap. Derek reached up and took it off. There, on the top of it where the button sat, someone had stuck a large wad of bubble gum!

  “Eeeuw!” Derek said, grimacing as he tried to remove it without his fingers getting stuck to the gooey mess. Strings of gum stayed stuck to his cap, even after he’d gotten the big mass off. Everyone was laughing now—including Dean, who just a little while ago had seemed as angry at Gary as Derek was.

  Derek glared at Gary, who returned his stare with an innocent Who, me? look.

  “Derek!” his dad called. “Wake up over there!”

  “Huh?” Derek turned around to see his dad holding up a bat.

  “You’re up. Let’s go! We don’t have all day to waste here.”

  “Dad, Gary was—”

  “Let’s go, let’s go!” his dad said.

  “But—”


  “Not now, Derek. Come on. Quit wasting everyone’s time.”

  Derek sighed, seeing it was no use. Glancing over to the bench, he saw Gary, thumbs in his ears, wiggling his fingers and sticking his tongue out at him.

  Derek grabbed his bat, marched to the plate, and turned to face Chase, who was pitching for both sides. The ball came in, and Derek swung right out of his shoes, trying to send the ball all the way to Mars.

  Of course he missed completely, and from there his frustration only grew.

  Worse was that right after he’d struck out on three pathetic overswings, Gary stepped up to the plate and hit a pop-up that fell in behind third base for a hit!

  “Attaway!” Mr. Jeter called out, applauding. “Nice going, Gary.”

  On the next hit Gary was thrown out at second because he practically walked over there instead of hustling. But the coaches didn’t give him a hard time about it. Of course not, thought Derek. Because the poor kid had asthma and had just come from the doctor—supposedly.

  But Derek had been in class with Gary for three years now. If he had asthma, he’d been hiding it awfully well. And Derek doubted that Gary’s lateness had been on account of his going to the doctor. He’d probably tried to argue his way out of coming, hoping that by the time his mom forced him to go, practice would already be over.

  Out in the field Derek kept hearing Gary’s snide, stupid comments coming from behind him in left. Gary was smart enough to make his voice loud enough for Derek to hear but not so loud that the coaches would hear, since they were farther away.

  Derek glanced over at Dave, who was manning third. Dave scowled and shook his head. Derek was glad that at least one other person shared his frustration.

  As Vijay stood at the plate, about to swing at one of Chase’s pitches, Gary called, “Heads up!”

  Derek turned his head, just as Vijay made contact. The ball came straight for Derek, and he muffed what should have been an easy catch.

  “Grrrr!” he growled behind clenched teeth.

  “Come on. Wake up out there at short!” his dad called from behind home plate.

  Derek steamed, and got back into “ready position.” Couldn’t his dad see what Gary was doing? Couldn’t Chase see it? They sure seemed not to. Instead both were totally focused on improving the team’s skills, and were completely oblivious to the real problem, namely Gary Parnell!

  Derek made two more errors in the space of ten minutes, both caused by Gary’s distracting him.

  “Derek!” His dad walked out toward short. “Come here.”

  Uh-oh.

  “What’s going on with you, Derek? Are you here or somewhere else?”

  “Dad, Gary’s—”

  “Stop it right there,” Mr. Jeter told him. “Don’t give me excuses. Who’s responsible for you?”

  “But—”

  “Who?”

  Derek sighed. “I am.”

  “That’s right. Now go out and play center field for a while.” He whistled for Dean to come in and play shortstop.

  Derek couldn’t believe it. His own dad, making him play the outfield!

  Even though he knew every position was important, being put in the outfield felt like banishment to Derek, who had almost always played shortstop—or at least in the infield, where there was always lots of action.

  Why was his dad punishing him, and in front of everyone on the team?

  Derek knew his dad would never do anything to hurt him, but he also knew that his dad didn’t ever put up with bad behavior. Mr. Jeter must have thought it was Derek who was distracting the team members—but it wasn’t! How could his dad be so taken in by Gary’s shenanigans?

  With Gary right next to him in left field, the stupid comments kept coming, and Derek couldn’t wait for practice to be over. In all his life he had never thought there would come a moment when he didn’t want to be playing baseball. This should have been his moment in the sun, but Gary was totally ruining it for him!

  • • •

  “What happened out there today, Derek?” his dad wanted to know. They’d just dropped Vijay off and were parking the car in front of the family’s townhouse. “You didn’t seem like yourself.”

  “It wasn’t my fault,” Derek replied. “Didn’t you see what Gary—”

  “I see everything I need to see,” said Mr. Jeter. “I see that it’s easy to distract you from your purpose. That’s not good. I’m trying to teach you to be focused, to the point where nobody and nothing can distract you. That’s why I put you in the outfield. To make you realize how important focus is. And to make everyone else on the team understand that Chase and I won’t put up with goofing around from anyone, not even my own son.”

  Derek was silent for a long moment. He wanted to tell his dad everything Gary had done to wreck things. He wanted to ask why his dad and Chase hadn’t stopped all the fooling around.

  But he couldn’t say a word. Not without breaking his contract. He knew how his dad would see that sort of whining. He’d see it as not being a good teammate or respecting your coaches.

  Derek could see how that was true. Good teammates didn’t complain about one another. And like his dad had said, if Derek couldn’t keep his attention where it belonged, that was up to him to fix, not his dad or anyone else. Still, the whole situation didn’t seem fair somehow. . . .

  “You know,” Mr. Jeter said, turning off the engine and removing the keys, “sometimes things don’t go the way we expect them to, and we have to make adjustments. I want you to know I have confidence in you. You can be the heart and soul of this team, if you manage to get yourself back on track. It’s up to you.”

  “Okay, Dad,” Derek said, nodding. “I’ve got it. I will.” “Good man. Now let’s go wash up for supper.”

  The next day at school Derek found he was once again having trouble concentrating, which was a big problem, since Ms. Fein started their day by handing out a surprise test in social studies.

  Derek looked over at Gary, who was busy scribbling away, writing his answers down. He seemed to be having no problem with the subject matter.

  Derek, on the other hand, was so upset about Gary and the way he’d set out to ruin Derek’s entire baseball season, that he could barely concentrate.

  He forced himself to pay attention to the questions, but when he finally handed the test in, just before time was up, he was afraid he’d messed up badly. That, too, was a no-no in his contract, which clearly stated that he had to get good grades if he wanted to play sports.

  As the students were all shuffling out of the classroom on their way to lunch, Gary moved close to Derek and muttered, “Hey there, Jeter.”

  “What do you want?” Derek could barely contain his anger.

  “I just wanted to say, I was wrong about baseball.”

  “Huh?” Derek was taken aback. Was Gary actually admitting he’d been wrong all this time?

  “Yeah,” Gary said with a sigh. “It’s even worse than I thought. Way, way worse. In fact, it’s the dumbest activity on the planet.”

  Far from admitting he was wrong, Gary was taking his annoyingness to a new, higher level!

  “Very funny. Oh, and by the way, if you have asthma, where’s your inhaler?”

  Gary made a face, as if Derek had just said something immensely stupid. “Are you kidding? I’d say anything—anything—if it meant I didn’t have to play your stupid sport.”

  “You lied to my dad—right to his face!”

  “Yeah? And what are you going to do about it? Go ahead, get yourself suspended, smart guy.” He spread his arms out wide, daring Derek to shove him, or worse.

  Derek resisted the temptation. “Okay, okay,” he said. “You win. Have it your way. I hope it makes you happy to make everyone else on the team miserable.”

  “Not everyone. Just you,” Gary replied with a smirk. “In fact, I’ve noticed that more than a few of the kids seem to find my humor enjoyable.”

  There was no sense talking with Gary, Derek realized. So he j
ust turned away and headed for the cafeteria, where he plunked himself down at the table that Dave and Vijay were already sitting at, digging into their pizza.

  “What’s up?” Dave asked. “You look kind of bummed out.”

  “I am,” Derek admitted. “How would you feel if you were me and your dad made you move to the outfield?”

  “Yes. Why ever did he do that?” Vijay asked. “It was very strange to see.”

  “It was Gary’s fault,” Derek explained. “I got distracted, but my dad didn’t see what happened, so he thought it was me goofing around.”

  “Well, don’t worry,” Vijay said. “I am sure you will play shortstop in the real games. Your dad is the best coach in the whole wide world, and so is Chase. They will always make the right decisions for the team.”

  “He’s right,” Dave said. “Didn’t you see how they were working with all those kids? And a lot of them need it. You can’t really blame your dad and Chase if they don’t see what Gary’s up to. I mean, they’re pretty busy, and he’s pretty good at hiding it from them.”

  Then Derek told them what Gary had just said about his supposed asthma, and as Derek had expected, both of them were as outraged as he was.

  “Did you tell your dad?” Vijay asked. “I bet if you do, he kicks Gary right off the team!”

  “I don’t know,” Derek said, shaking his head. “I have a feeling he wouldn’t.”

  “You should tell him anyway,” Dave said.

  “I tried. He didn’t want to hear any complaining.”

  “I’m going to tell Chase,” Dave said. “Somebody’s got to do something about that kid, before he starts costing us wins on the field.”

  “Yes indeed!” Vijay agreed. “The first game is tomorrow. If we don’t get him off the team before that, he will destroy our chance to be champions!”

  Exactly, thought Derek, though he didn’t say so out loud. Well, maybe telling Chase would work, but Derek had a feeling Dave would get the same response: “Stop complaining, take care of your own business, and leave the coaching to the coaches.”

  Chapter Four

  MORE SURPRISES