In the bottom of the inning, Jason, Frank, and Joe were the first three batters up.
Bam!
Bam!
Bam!
Jason slammed a double, and Frank followed with a home run. Just like that, the Bandits had scored two runs. On his turn, Joe hit a line drive into the outfield. Now he was on third base, waiting for the chance to score another. It was 8–6. The Bandits were still behind, but they were catching up!
Speedy batted next. The Jupiters were expecting a big hit to try to score another run, but Speedy tricked them—she bunted! Before they could figure out what to do, Jason was safe at home, and Speedy was on first base. 8–7!
Speedy stole second base while the Jupiters struck out the next Bandit batter. A lucky catch knocked out another Bandit, but Speedy managed to get to third base.
“Go Speedy! Go Speedy! Go Speedy!” the crowd chanted.
She smiled and waved, just waiting for her chance to score another run for the Bandits. The next batter got a hit and tried to make it to second, but was tagged out—but not before Speedy crossed home plate! Now the score was tied, 8–8, and there was only one inning to go.
“Do you think we can do it?” Coach Quinn asked the team.
“Yeah!” the Bandits shouted. They were in this to win.
The Jupiters batted at the top of the seventh. Speedy struck out the first two batters, but then it was Conor’s turn at bat. He took a few practice swings. He looked bigger than ever. Frank crouched down in his catcher’s gear and hoped that Speedy could strike him out too. But no such luck. He hit a hard ground ball on his first swing.
The ball was headed right between first and second base. Joe and Jason both ran to get it.
“Go, Joe!” screamed Frank.
Joe leaned down to get the ball—but Jason got there first. He scooped the ball up with one swipe of his lucky mitt and ran back to first base, but it was too late. Conor was safe.
It took two more batters, but eventually the Jupiters brought Conor home. Now they were ahead, 9–8. The Bandits had only one chance left to win the game.
But the Jupiters were not going to go down easy. They struck out the Bandits’ first two batters in the bottom of the seventh. Now everything depended on their next batter—Jason!
The crowd chanted his name. Frank and Joe sat on the edge of the bench, leaning forward for a better view.
Jason bent his knees and pulled the bat back behind his shoulder in a perfect batting stance. The first pitch came. Jason swung—and missed!
“Strike one!” the umpire called.
The Bandits fans shouted, “Go, Jason!” Jason got back into position. The second pitch came. Again he swung.
And again he missed.
This time the crowd was silent. If he missed again, it was all over. The Bandits would lose this year’s Little League championship.
Time seemed to slow down as the Jupiters’ pitcher got ready. He wound up. He threw. The ball seemed to hang in the air. Jason pulled the bat back.
CRAAACK!!
Just like that, the ball was flying up over the heads of the Jupiters, past the outfield, over the parents on their picnic blankets. Up, up, and away!
Joe, Frank, and the rest of the Bandits leaped to their feet, cheering and screaming.
It was a home run! The score was tied at 9–9.
And tied it remained. No matter how hard they tried, neither team could score another run. The game went into extra innings, and then extra-extra innings. Finally the coaches called a time-out.
“Maybe it’s time to call it a tie?” Coach Quinn said.
The Bandits thought about it. It would mean sharing the trophy, but the Jupiters were good players—maybe just as good as they were. Maybe both teams deserved to win.
“What do you guys think?” asked Coach Quinn. “Should we declare it a tie?”
“Yeah,” said Joe and Frank at the same time. That seemed fair to them. The rest of the Bandits nodded in agreement.
“You guys are the best team a coach could have,” she said.
When the two coaches announced the tie, everyone in the audience cheered. This was the best Little League championship game ever!
When Joe and Frank returned home, they were exhausted—but they still had one thing left to finish.
The boys waited until their parents were safely inside and then made a dash for their tree house. They passed the side of the house, and the garage, above which Mr. Hardy had been fixing up a spare room.
“Watch out!” Frank called.
There was a ladder leaning up against the garage, and Frank’s warning came just in time to save Joe from tripping over it.
“Jump!” warned Joe, and Frank just missed tripping over a couple of paint cans that were lying outside, probably for the spare room.
When the boys reached the woods on the edge of their backyard, they looked around furtively and ducked in. Finally they’d reached their destination.
Frank pulled the ladder down from the tree house with the pulley so they could climb in. Once they were both inside, Frank handed Joe a big green marker.
“I got to do it last time,” Frank said. “It’s your turn.”
Joe’s face exploded into a grin, and he walked over to the big white dry-erase board hanging on the tree house wall. Then he began writing:
The Missing Mitt Page 4
