Baseball Turnaround

by Matt Christopher

  The Raptors had one last chance to take the game back for a win. Down by two runs, the lead-off Raptor at the plate was Jimmy.

  Jimmy looked as though he was real hungry to help. He did more than that. After waiting out two called strikes and one ball, he swung and connected.

  Crack!

  The ball went flying high into the sky and then over the fence for a home run! The Raptors were now only one run behind.

  After filling the air with cheers, the fans settled down to see what would happen next. With a little bit of luck, the Raptors could tie up the game and even go ahead. The question was: Would Jimmy’s homer start a genuine rally? Or would it fizzle with the next batter — Tony Cataldo?

  “Come on, you Raptors!”

  “Get tough, Raptors!”

  “Show us your stuff, Cataldo!”

  Tony seemed to have trouble finding his mark on the bat. He bobbled off three foul balls before getting his teeth into the next pitch. The crack of his bat sent the ball out between center and left field about ten yards beyond the baseline. The Pelican outfield scrambled for it, but the ball bounded oddly in the grass. Tony managed to stretch the hit to a double before the Pelicans had things back under control.

  With a runner on second and no outs, the Raptors fans were cheering louder than ever.

  Dewey Williams had walked once and reached base once on a fielder’s choice. Sandy guessed how he felt — ready to get a hit. But maybe he was too ready. Dewey swung at two pitches and watched a third go by for a called strike and the Raptors’ first out.

  It was now up to Mitch to move things along. But Coach Winston wasn’t about to take a chance on Mitch. He looked over the bench and signaled Eddie Sumner, the number-one substitute, to go to the plate. Then he called over to Sandy.

  “Comstock, stretch your legs. Get some exercise. You might be needed out there.”

  Sandy was so surprised that he didn’t respond at first. Only when a few members of the team turned to look at him did he follow the coach’s instructions. He picked up two bats and practiced his swing.

  Silence blanketed the playing field as the Pelicans’ pitcher fired the ball down the line to Eddie. It went wide of the mark, so wide that there was no question what was happening. Eddie was being given a deliberate walk. That would bring Ben Eaton up to the plate. Ben had popped out twice this game. With Eddie on first and Tony at third, that increased the chances of tagging someone out to squash the Raptors’ chances of winning.

  Watching from the dugout, Sandy realized that the Pelicans’ coach had made a smart move.

  Except for one thing: Ben Eaton was not being sent up to bat. The coach called Sandy over and said to him, “It’s up to you, Sandy. This pitcher is familiar with Ben. He knows exactly where his weaknesses are. You might stand a chance of throwing him off.”

  “I’ll give it a try, Coach,” said Sandy. Millions of butterflies danced around inside of him.

  “Don’t try to kill the ball. Take your time, and place it in short right or left field. Take your time.”

  As Sandy walked to the plate, he felt every eye in the park staring at him. He found his position, tapped his bat on the plate, adjusted his helmet, and stared down the pitcher.

  The ball came toward that sweet pocket of space a little below his waist and just so far in front of him. He shifted his weight, lifted his foot, lowered the bat, and slammed into the ball.

  Slunk!

  His bat barely made contact with the bottom Of the horsehide sphere. It rose up in the air about twenty feet, just a yard or so in front of the plate. The Pelicans’ catcher reached out and caught it in the center of his mitt for the third and final out —and the end of a losing game for the Raptors.

  Sandy just stood there, frozen with despair.

  16

  The cheers of the Pelicans team lingered in Sandy’s ears as he dragged his way back to the bench. None of the Raptors looked at him.

  Sandy hurried off the field, stopping only to step into the restroom. When he emerged, a familiar voice called out to him.

  “So, baseball boy, I understand you’ve been asking a lot of questions about me. What gives?” Perry Warden was standing in front of him. He looked angry. “What do you expect to find out?”

  Sandy just wasn’t in the mood to play games. Mr. Richards, his probation officer, had once told him to deal with a situation head-on. And his brother had only the night before advised him to consider the wisdom of telling his story before someone else did. Well, now that someone was standing in front of him. In the second it took him to fold his arms across his chest, Sandy made up his mind to stop being bullied by Perry Warden’s threats.

  “Let me ask you something. What did you expect to find out the other day when you were nosing around the bench?”

  Perry looked surprised, but he recovered quickly. “I was just visiting some old friends, that’s all.”

  “Is that a fact? I think you were trying to find out exactly what I found out the other day — whether anyone had heard of the trouble we were in in Grantville,” Sandy replied.

  Perry reddened. But after a moment, a crafty look crossed his face. “Just because I haven’t said anything yet doesn’t mean I won’t. Once they find out about you, they’re not going to want you on the team anymore,” he said.

  Sandy narrowed his eyes. “And what if I decide to tell them myself? The whole story, that is, not something you make up as you go along.” By the look on Perry’s face, Sandy knew he had scored a point. He pressed on. “To them, you’re still the star of last year’s season! How are you going to feel when they find out their shining boy is tarnished?”

  Perry sputtered but didn’t answer him. After a moment, he spun on his heels and stalked away.

  Sandy watched him go. Although he had started it, he was stunned at what had just happened.

  I made him squirm, he said to himself. But where does it leave me? I practically promised I was going to tell! How can I keep quiet now?

  The answer was clear. He couldn’t. Because he had backed Perry Warden into a corner and the only way Perry was going to get out was to tell his own story.

  And Sandy had a feeling that story wasn’t going to paint him in a very nice way. If he was going to salvage anything of his reputation, he had to act fast.

  There was just one obstacle to be overcome: Sandy still had to prove to the Raptors that he was worth listening to.

  He knew of only one way he could do that for sure. And it wasn’t by playing third base, sitting on the bench, or hitting pop-up foul balls.

  He had to get back into center field, where he belonged!

  17

  All weekend long, Sandy tried to come up with an argument that would convince Coach Winston to try him at center field again. But nothing he thought of seemed likely to work.

  Then the coach himself provided the opening. At the start of the first Raptors’ practice the following week, he called the team together at the bench and delivered a little pep talk.

  “I think one of the reasons the team didn’t do better last week against the Pelicans is a lack of teamwork. Everyone is taking it for granted that the other guy will do it. You’ve become a little too settled in your slots. So this week, I’m going to shift you around. You’ll see what it’s like to play the other guy’s position, and maybe you’ll think a little more about what you do out there,” he said. “Now, take fifteen minutes to warm up and come back when I whistle. We’ll have a little practice game just to see what happens.”

  When the whistle blew a quarter of an hour later, every member of the team was curious to see where he’d be playing. Although none of them had any idea, Sandy was a little more anxious than the others. Not only did he not know what position, he wasn’t even sure he’d be on any roster — after what had happened to end the Pelicans game.

  The coach finished the first team, then went on to the second. Sandy was right at the top of the list —at center field!

  When the game began, San
dy didn’t have much to do. Tony Cataldo, of all people, was on the pitcher’s mound. He walked the first three batters until he found the strike zone. Then the fourth went down swinging, and the fifth hit into a double play.

  Sandy was slated to bat in the fifth position, so he figured he probably wouldn’t be up that inning. But the pitcher for the opposing team was Jimmy. Surprisingly, he knew a thing or two about putting the ball across the plate. He let the first batter reach first on a single that just went by the second baseman, and then put the next two batters away with strikeouts.

  “Hey, pitcher man!”

  “Looks like mound material to me, Coach!”

  The good-natured cries rang out as Sandy moved toward the plate. And then, suddenly, they quieted down. There was little cheering as he settled into the batter’s box.

  Only the voice of Coach Winston could be heard shouting over to him, “Give that new stance a try again, Sandy.” It made the silence of the rest of the team more noticeable.

  Sandy took a deep breath. Breaking the ice with his teammates after three weeks was going to be tougher than he thought. But he called back an “okay” to the coach and struck the new stance.

  Unfortunately, Jimmy wasn’t giving him much to hit. He fouled one to the first base stand and one to the third base side of the park. Then he saw a pitch he liked. He swung with all his might.

  Crack!

  The ball soared high into right field. Mitch Lessem scrambled in for the catch. But suddenly, a second white object flashed in the sky. It was another baseball, hit into the field by a group of people playing a pickup game!

  A split second after Sandy’s ball hit the ground, the second ball landed a few feet away. Mitch ran toward one ball. Ben Eaton, the center fielder, ran to the other. Intent on making the play, they didn’t see each other until they had fielded the ball and were about ready to throw. Then they caught sight of each other. Both hesitated in mid-heave, then continued their throws. The second baseman just ducked out of the way.

  Sandy couldn’t help it. As he rounded second base, he started to chuckle. By the time he reached home, he could barely move he was laughing so hard.

  “That was the lamest home run I’ve ever hit!” he gasped. “Coach, how are you going to rule that one? A two-run homer, or an attempted double play?”

  The other players stared at him. Then Ben Eaton started laughing, too. Others joined in. Even Coach Winston grinned.

  For the rest of the practice, the players talked about the incident, changing the story until it had grown in absurdity.

  “Sandy had a ball tucked up his sleeve. What happened was, he thought he struck out. Didn’t even realize he’d hit it, he was so busy digging that ball out from his sleeve and heaving it into center field.”

  “No, what happened was, Jimmy fired his pitches down so quickly that Sandy hit the first ball with a regular swing, the second one when he was pulling the bat back into position!”

  “You’re all wrong! You know how Sandy likes to take warm-up swings with two bats? Well, Jimmy decided he’d send down two balls for him to hit with his two bats. Sandy hit the one as he tossed away the first bat, the second with the bat he was still holding!”

  Sandy laughed along with the rest. For the first time since he’d become a Raptor, he felt like part of the team.

  At the end of practice, Coach Winston called them all together. “Tomorrow, I’ll have most of you back playing your old spots. Some of you may find yourself in new positions. And some,” he added with a smile, “may find yourself cooling your heels until you shape up and stop all this horsing around!”

  As Sandy left practice, he heard something he hadn’t heard for a long time. It was the sound of his teammates calling out good-byes to him and promises to see him at practice the next day.

  18

  The next day’s practice started out with a number of routine drills. But it also featured a practice game between two squads the coach had put together.

  Sandy waited eagerly to hear his name called. When it was, he couldn’t help but grin. “Sandy Comstock, center field — second string.”

  Okay, here we go, Comstock, he said to himself. Here’s your big chance to show the coach who his first starting center fielder should be. Tony’s an okay guy, but you’re the better player.

  Sandy played his hardest that game. He dove and jumped for balls, threw hard and accurately, took his time at the plate, and kept up a constant stream of encouraging chatter. And the other players of the second string responded. For the first time since the beginning of the season, the starting squad lost the scrimmage.

  The next three days, he stayed in the center field position for the second string. But on Friday, when Coach Winston called out the roster of starters, Tony Cataldo had been moved to third base — and Sandy Comstock was named for center field.

  Coach Winston took both boys aside before the scrimmage. “Listen, Tony, I’m going with Sandy out there because he’s really shown me something this week. He’s played some stellar ball, and he’s earned a chance. And I want to see what you can do in the infield.”

  Sandy braced himself for a protest.

  Tony nodded. “Okay, Coach. Whatever’s best for the team. Sandy seems to know what he’s doing out there. And I wouldn’t mind a change,” he said simply. And that was that.

  Sandy was so psyched to be back in his spot that he almost decided not to follow through on telling his teammates about his trouble in Grantville. But one day, Perry Warden showed up at the end of practice, and Sandy’s old anxieties came rushing back. Although Perry stuck around for only a few minutes and avoided him the entire time, Sandy knew he could no longer take a chance with him.

  Sandy’s opportunity to tell his story came the following week. It wasn’t the way he would have chosen, however. During a practice game that Wednesday, Ben went chasing a wild pitch that flew near the back stand. He was so intent on the ball that he didn’t see the pole. Two seconds later, he was lying dazed on the ground. The coach called a time-out. Since Sandy was waiting to bat, he helped the coach get Ben to the bench.

  Ben lay down while the coach pressed an ice pack to his forehead.

  “Ooh, that’s cold,” Ben mumbled. “Boy, do I feel dumb. Bet you’ve never made a stupid mistake like that before.”

  Sandy chuckled. “Well, maybe not on the ball field. But I’ve made some stupid mistakes in my time. Once I made a really stupid mistake.”

  Ben shifted slightly and looked up at his teammate. “Oh, yeah? What was it? Come on, make a dying man feel better.”

  Sandy took a deep breath. He started out slow, faltering a little as the story spun out and not looking at Ben as he told it. But by the time he reached the part about serving probation, Ben was sitting up and listening intently. When he had finished, Ben whistled.

  “Man, I thought I sensed some tension between you and Perry,” he said. “But I never would have guessed that. I just figured he was jealous because you were in his old spot on the team.” He was silent for a moment, then turned and looked at Sandy.

  “Listen, Sandy, I appreciate your telling me this. Not because I wanted to know all your deep, dark secrets. Remember how I told you once that Perry had turned kind of mean last year? You found out about that firsthand, I guess, but I really want you to know that he wasn’t always like that. I think everything just kind of got to him all at once: his parents’ divorce, having to move right after being a star on the team, leaving all his friends behind, that kind of thing. And I don’t think he’d ever admit it, but I’m pretty sure the idea of moving from small-town Newtown to big-city Grantville scared him. So he just kind of took on this tough-guy image, you know?”

  Sandy was silent. He thought about how he had been before moving to Newtown: angry, defiant, and mad at his parents all the time. It was as though he and Perry had switched places in the past year. He wondered if Perry felt the same way. If he did, Sandy guessed that seeing him in the third base slot had been the last straw.
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  But understanding the guy didn’t make Sandy feel much better about him. He knew they’d never be buddies — but so long as they weren’t enemies, he’d take it. He knew he’d do his part to make that happen.

  Over the next few days, Sandy’s story made its way around the team. To his relief, he found that most of the players were interested in what had happened, but not terribly judgmental. Sandy wondered if they understood because they had had some of their own scrapes and troubles.

  Whatever the truth was, Sandy was just glad that he had told his own story. Because now that he had, he could focus on the really important things — like winning baseball games!

  From that moment on, Sandy never let his focus drift. He concentrated on doing his best, and it showed. His fielding was up to its old Raider standard, and his hitting got better each time he came up to bat. There was no question that he was a better center fielder than Tony. But since Tony proved to be a better third baseman than Sandy, everyone came out on top.

  19

  The day of the last summer league game arrived. It was a bright August afternoon, and the Raptors were preparing to defend their first-place position against the number-two team, the Hawks.

  The Hawks had first ups.

  Pitching for the Raptors was Mitch Lessem. He kept the action in the infield and gave up only one hit before retiring the side.

  The Raptors didn’t do that well when their turn came. Mark struck out, Frank hit one straight into the waiting glove of the Hawks’ shortstop, and Tony bobbled one down to first but couldn’t outrun the peg.

  Mitch held the Hawks hitless at the top of the second, giving up his first walk of the game but fanning two batters in a row. Still, the outfield hadn’t seen much action.

  Sandy led off for the Raptors at the bottom of the second inning. As he walked toward the plate, he paid a lot more attention to the sounds that followed him from the dugout. Those were his teammates shouting encouragement.