“Yeah. He’s been starting earlier and earlier. All he wants to do is practice. He thinks the second the hitting streak ends, the fans won’t like him anymore and he’ll be back on the bench.”
“I think the fans will still like him, whatever happens.” Besides, Diego was a rising star. Everybody said so.
I found the coffee machine gurgling away and the bat rack set up. Both were done perfectly. When we went out for BP, Ricky fielded his own territory and didn’t get in anyone’s way. When Pokey came out on the field, Ricky didn’t run over and try to be a part of the act. When Sammy sent Ricky to the snack bar to get his traditional pre-game corn dog, he was back in a flash.
“I think he’s going to work out,” Wally whispered to me before I headed over to the other dugout.
“Me too.”
We were playing the Farmington Weevils. The Pines scored some runs, but Diego didn’t get his first hit until his third time at the plate. He scorched the ball past the shortstop and into the outfield.
After the game, Pokey drove his golf cart across the outfield, flying a flag with the number “15” on it. The crowd went crazy. It seemed like they were more excited for the hit than the fact that the Porcupines won the game.
When I got back to the Pines’ locker room, I found a note taped to my locker.
It must have been from Danny, since Dylan was away and Diego wouldn’t have written a note in English. But I didn’t know what he was thanking me for. I also didn’t know what he was dropping off or where he was going or when. It was another mystery for Mike McKay to solve.
• • •
Part of the mystery was solved the next day. I saw that Danny O’Brien’s locker had been cleaned out. I felt like I’d been kicked in the stomach.
“What happened?” Was Danny cut loose because of his injury?
“He’s been traded,” said Brian Daniels. “Multi-way deal that gets pitching to the Rogues and a hot rookie infielder for us. It also sends Danny to the Cougars.”
“Wow.” I remembered the last series against the Cougars. Their left fielder wasn’t very good. Danny would be a big improvement, once he got healthy. “I’m going to miss him.”
“Me too,” said Brian. “He was like a brother to me.”
“A twin brother,” said Wayne. Danny and Brian looked a lot alike, and it was easy to get them confused.
“Practically,” Brian agreed. “But it’s a good move for him. We have a lot of good outfielders at Double-A and Triple-A. It’s hard to move up. Over there, Danny will have a better chance to get promoted.”
I had to sit down. I was feeling a bit dazed. I knew that players got shuffled around in baseball, but I’d worked with mostly the same group of players since I’d become a batboy.
“Hey, it’s all good news,” said Wayne. “Good news for Danny. Good news for the Pines. Good news for Diego.”
“I know.”
But how come it didn’t feel like good news?
few days later, on the last day of the home stand, Diego hit safely in his twenty-first consecutive game. It was a new record for the Prairie League. The crowd chanted, “Way to go, Di-e-go!” until long after the last out. Diego came out and waved his cap at the crowd.
It had been a great series of games for the Porcupines. They’d swept the Rogues, won three of four against the Weevils, and taken two out of three against the West Valley Varmints. They’d gained a lot of ground in the league standings and seemed bound for the playoffs.
I helped the Varmints load up their bus and then went to the Porcupines’ locker room.
Diego was cleaning out his locker. Several of the Porcupines were gathered around, watching in silence.
“What’s going on?” I asked.
Ricky answered. “Diego has been called up. All the way to Triple-A!”
“Congratulations!” That was great for him. It was what every player dreamed of. Diego would be just one step away from the major leagues. But I felt another kick to my stomach. Diego had become one of my favorite players.
“I can’t wait to see you on TV in the big leagues,” I told him.
Ricky started to translate, but Diego nodded. He understood. “Gracias,” he said. He said a lot more, and Ricky tried to keep up.
“He says he will see you all when you get called up, and he will miss you until then, and he hopes every team is as nice as you guys, and he will miss Wayne’s jokes.”
“He’ll miss Wayne’s jokes?” asked Sammy. “Are you sure you know Spanish?”
“Pretty sure,” said Ricky, his face puzzled.
Diego spoke again, and Ricky nodded.
“He couldn’t have done it without you,” Ricky said to me.
“Me?” I said.
“He didn’t believe in the magic before, but now he does. He says thank you.”
Diego reached into his pocket and passed me a tattered baseball card.
Ozzie Virgil.
I had forgotten all about that card.
“But this was in … ,” I started to say.
“The library book that I gave to Danny,” said Ricky. “I found it in your locker when I was cleaning it out. It was with a sticky note that said ‘Remember to give to Danny,’ so I gave it to him.”
My head spun. I must have brought the book to work with the others without realizing it, left it in my locker, and not noticed it in the mess. The sticky note was left over from the other three books I did give to Danny.
No wonder I couldn’t find it at home!
“How did Diego get the baseball card? I was using it as a bookmark.”
“Danny gave it to him before he left. He said it was Diego’s turn.”
“Oh.” But how had the card helped either one of them? Ozzie Virgil didn’t have a miraculous comeback after an injury, and he didn’t have a long hitting streak. He was just a guy who played baseball for a while.
“Thank you, and good-bye for now,” said Diego slowly.
He shook my hand and then went through the group, shaking everybody’s hands.
Wayne was last. “Way to go, Diego,” he said.
“Hey, and thanks for teaching me how to be a batboy,” Ricky told me. “It was the most fun I’ve ever had.”
“Adios, amigo,” I told him.
“No,” he said. “Hasta luego. Adios means ‘Good-bye.’ Hasta luego is ‘See you later.’”
• • •
I got on video-chat with Uncle Rick that night so I could tell him what happened.
“The same card worked for both players?” he said. “That’s funny.”
“They both got what they wanted, sort of,” I said. “But Ozzie Virgil never did anything special. That’s the part I don’t get.”
He frowned. “‘Nothing special’? Are you kidding me?”
“His stats were really average,” I protested. “He kept getting sent back to the minor leagues and then coming back up.”
“He stayed in the game, Chad,” said Uncle Rick. “He was up and down his whole career, but he hung in there. And he’s not in the Hall of Fame, but he made his little mark on baseball history. He paved the way for other great players from the Dominican Republic. Everybody from Felipe Alou to David Ortiz.”
“Sure, but …”
“I’ve always been a big fan of guys like Ozzie Virgil,” said Uncle Rick. “I think they are special. There aren’t enough superstars to staff all thirty teams. We need the guys who hang in there.”
“I know.” The Porcupines didn’t have any big stars, at least not now that Diego was gone, but what would they be without Wayne or Sammy?
“Maybe Ozzie Virgil helped those guys see the big picture,” said Uncle Rick. “Every career is going to have some high points and some setbacks.”
“Hmm … that makes a lot of sense,” I said.
I was going to have to think the same way about being a batboy. The team had lost two good guys, but we’d won a bunch of games and were headed for the playoffs for the second year in a row. I would have
to hang in there and not feel sorry for myself, especially when Diego and Danny were both chasing their dreams.
ylan called me the next day. He was back from his trip.
“Want to hang out?” he asked.
“Sure. Want to bike to the library?”
He took a while to answer. “Sure,” he said finally, but he didn’t sound like he really wanted to go.
I realized why when we were out on our ride. Dylan had to stop every few minutes and take a break.
“Sorry to hold you up,” he said.
“What’s wrong?”
“I’ll explain, but you have to promise not to tease me.”
“I would never do that,” I said. “Well … unless it’s something really silly.”
He laughed. “It’s not that bad. I was at horse camp last week. My butt is still sore!”
“Hey, that sounds great! Why would I tease you about going to horse camp?”
“Well, here’s the thing. There’s only one close by, and it’s called the West Valley Riding School for Girls. Lately they’ve allowed boys to go, but they haven’t changed the name.”
“Glad you could go. Why should girls have all the fun?”
“Thanks, Chad.”
“¡No problema!”
He cycled on, sore butt and all, and we made it to the library. Dylan checked out two books about alpacas.
“You’ve moved on?”
“They had some at the horse camp,” he explained. “I liked them.”
“You can’t ride an alpaca.”
“I think that’s what I like best about them!”
I checked out Never Get Back for the second time, and this time I read it all the way through without misplacing the book. It was a great mystery. The ending really surprised me. But I won’t say what happened. I don’t want to spoil it for you.
About the Author
Kurtis Scaletta’s previous books include Mudville, which Booklist called “a gift from the baseball gods” and named one of their 2009 Top 10 Sports Books for Youth. Kurtis lives in Minneapolis with his wife and son and some cats. He roots for the Minnesota Twins and the Saint Paul Saints. Find out more about him at www.kurtisscaletta.com.
About the Artist
Ethen Beavers has illustrated a bunch of comics and children s books, including the bestselling NERDS series by Michael Buckley. He lives in California and likes fishing and his wife. He roots for the San Francisco Giants and loves to watch The Natural. You can see more of his drawings online at http://cretineb.deviantart.com.
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