“Coach Meese told me no one is happy that they’re letting you play when Twardzik is still out,” Coach Birdy said as Matt and Alex both grabbed bats to follow Jeff Cardillo to the plate in the bottom of the first. “Be ready.”
Coach Birdy was half right. Haverford Station’s starter, a kid named Marshall Bradley, did deck Matt—but only after he had decked both Cardillo and Alex. Cardillo got out of the way, got up, dusted himself off, and singled to left—typical Cardillo. Alex wasn’t as lucky: He got plunked in the ribs and went down thinking he was seriously hurt. He lay on the ground for a couple of minutes while Ralph Willard, the trainer, worked on him.
“I think you’re just going to be sore,” Ralph said. “See if you can get up.”
Alex did. He noticed that Bradley hadn’t taken a step off the mound to see if he was okay, nor had the catcher even looked at him. He did hear the home plate umpire talking to Bradley as he started to first.
“One more pitch like that, son, and you’re gone,” he said. “That’s enough vigilante justice. Play baseball.”
Alex almost smirked. It figured, he thought. He and Cardillo had to hit the dirt, and Matt would come up, keep his uniform clean, and probably hit a home run.
He was wrong. The first pitch to Matt was, as far as Alex could see standing on first base, in the exact same spot as the pitch to him had been. Matt dove out of the way. The umpire was out from behind the plate almost before Matt hit the ground.
“You’re gone!” he said to Bradley, who, without a word of protest, walked into the dugout.
“In case you were wondering,” Haverford Station’s first baseman said to Alex, “that wasn’t our real starter. He was just in there to throw at you guys until he got tossed.”
“Glad you guys have gotten over something that happened five weeks ago,” Alex said.
The first baseman glared at him. “Do you think we should be over it?”
Alex didn’t have an answer for that. The kid was right.
The new pitcher was a basketball player Alex recognized named Mike Dunn. He jogged in to warm up while the umpire called the two coaches together for a chat.
Dunn threw his last warm-up pitch, and Matt stepped in. His first pitch was a breaking ball that was way outside, making the count 2–0. His next pitch was a fastball, and it was grooved. Alex thought he saw Matt smile as the pitch reached the plate. He swung and put the ball into outer space. Alex just stared at it as it left the park, not bothering to run because he knew he didn’t have to. It was 3–0, and the Haverford Station dugout was losing its collective mind. To his credit, Matt didn’t showboat at all; he just put his head down and circled the bases.
Dunn settled down after that. Before Alex went back to the mound for the top of the second, Coach Birdy called the whole team together.
“Guys, here’s the deal. Mr. Dale, the home plate ump, has told Coach Meese and me that if anyone on either team throws inside again, he’ll eject the pitcher and the coach on the spot. And if it happens a second time, that team will forfeit the game. So, Alex, we aren’t getting even, we’re just getting outs. You hear me?”
Alex did. He had no desire to escalate things. And staked to a three-run lead, he pitched with confidence.
Mann and Cardillo produced back-to-back doubles in the third to make it 4–0, and Alex rolled through the Haverford Station lineup, except for a slider he hung to Dunn in the fifth with a man on first. The two-run home run made it 4–2, but Alex made up for it by leading off the bottom of the inning with a triple to the right-center field gap. Matt hit a long fly to drive him in to make it 5–2. That was the final score after Don Warren pitched the seventh.
The handshake line was a little bit tense. Both umpires lingered to make sure no trouble broke out, and the coaches stood nearby too. Several of the Haverford Station players leaned into Alex and said, “Hope you’re okay, man. It wasn’t personal.”
Alex wanted to say, Then why did you throw at me, you dopes, but resisted the urge. They’d gotten the win, and unless the suspended game somehow meant something in the standings—almost impossible with King of Prussia firmly in control of the conference race—they wouldn’t have to lay eyes on these guys again. That, Alex thought, was a relief.
Maybe being out of contention kept them relaxed, because the Lions rolled through their next four games. Bailey Warner’s shoulder was at a hundred percent, and with some help from Patton Gormley, who was emerging as a very good relief pitcher, Warner handled his starts with ease. Alex had no trouble with either Jefferson or Franklin. Coach Birdy even let him stay in to finish off a 5–0 shutout against Franklin because the last two games of the season, against Chester, weren’t until the following Thursday and Friday. That would give Alex plenty of rest, no matter which game he started.
After the Franklin game, Coach Birdy told everyone to wait in the locker room after they had finished talking to the media. That didn’t take long because the Matt story had run its course and King of Prussia had already clinched the conference title earlier that day by beating Chester. That gave KOP a 14–0 conference record—the Chargers were 22–0 overall and now ranked ninth in the USA Today poll—with two games to play. Chester was 12–2, and Chester Heights 11–2. Even if KOP somehow lost its last two games to Haverford Station, they had the tiebreaker with both of the teams chasing them, since the Chargers had swept them both. The conference announced that the suspended Haverford Station–Chester Heights game wouldn’t be completed because it was now official that KOP would represent the conference in the playoffs.
So the media pretty much consisted of Steve Garland and Christine and a couple of bloggers who were following Matt’s hitting exploits. He had gone three-for-four in the Franklin game, including his eighteenth home run of the season—even though he had missed five games.
“I heard both Hermans hit their twentieth today,” Jonas teased as they walked into the locker room.
“I’d have more than twenty if I hadn’t missed those five games,” Matt replied quickly—clearly not amused. “And if we’d played more nonconference games.”
“Cool it, Matt,” Alex said, a little weary of Matt’s total self-involvement. “If not for my dad, you wouldn’t have played at all after you nailed Twardzik.”
Matt stared at Alex for a second, and Alex thought Matt the New was about to make another appearance. Fortunately, he was wrong.
“You’re right, Goldie,” he said. “There I go again. It’s just been so frustrating not to be able to pitch that I wanted to try to hit a hundred home runs, instead of just being a good hitter. And I’ve let you down by not being there to help you work on your pitches. When we get a chance, I promise I’ll show you the splitter. You get that working by next year and you’ll be unhittable.”
Alex was about to open his mouth when they all heard Coach Birdy calling for quiet.
“Listen, fellas, I just wanted to take a minute to tell you how proud I am of all of you,” he said. “We’ve been through a lot of ups and downs this spring. We had a rough start. We turned four-and-three into fifteen-and-five, and that’s not counting the Haverford Station game or the fact that we didn’t have our best player for five games—and won all of them.
“I know it’s disappointing that we won’t be in postseason”—he paused and looked at Alex and Jonas—“especially for Myers and Ellington. They got spoiled by football and basketball.”
Everyone laughed.
“But I don’t want you guys to show up next week and think the season’s over. Chester is our archrival, and we can still finish second if we sweep them. They’re good—we’re good. So it should be fun. I’m going to pitch Bailey on Thursday, because he deserves to start his last home game. Alex, you’ll go on Friday. I know it’s hard, but I want you guys to show up Monday as if you’re preparing to play for a championship.”
He looked around the room. Everyone was nodding, but if the rest of the guys were feeling the way Alex was, their hearts weren’t really in it. Coach Birdy
was right—he was spoiled. He agreed with something Tiger Woods had once said when he was still the world’s dominant golfer: “Second place sucks.”
Third place, he supposed, was worse.
Alex was sitting at lunch with Christine, Max, and Jonas on Monday when Matt came racing into the cafeteria as if he were being chased by armed gunmen. He had a wild look on his face that Alex couldn’t begin to figure out.
“What in the world?” was all Christine got out as Matt pushed his way through people in the aisles to reach the table. He was completely out of breath when he arrived.
“Matt, what the heck is going on?” Alex managed to say before Matt held up a hand to stop him. Still out of breath, he reached into his pocket and pulled out a crumpled printout. He unfolded it and handed it to Alex.
“What is it?” Christine asked.
“Just…read it,” Matt said. “Coach Birdy said it just went up on the website a few minutes ago.”
Alex looked down at the unfolded paper. At the top it said “By Steven Thomas—Special to the Daily News.”
“Just read!” Matt ordered. “Aloud!”
As Alex began, the table went completely silent. Even as he read the words, Alex found them difficult to believe.
“ ‘According to sources at the South Philadelphia Athletic Conference and King of Prussia High School, baseball superstars Jake and Joey Herman have been declared ineligible because they were found to have taken payments from an agent earlier in the season. As a result, King of Prussia, which clinched the conference championship last Friday, will be forced to forfeit all fourteen of its conference victories…’ ”
“Oh my God!” Jonas yelled.
“Hang on,” Matt said. “There’s more.”
“ ‘…meaning that the two-game series later this week between second-place Chester and third-place Chester Heights will decide the conference title. As a result of the forfeits, Chester is now fourteen-and-oh in league play and Chester Heights is thirteen-and-oh—its game against Haverford Station earlier this season having been suspended and never completed.’ ”
By now, kids from other parts of the cafeteria, hearing the commotion, had surrounded the table.
“ ‘According to conference sources,’ ” Alex continued, “ ‘the Herman brothers both accepted cash from an agent named Benjamin Anderson. Anderson also co-signed paperwork for both that allowed them to buy cars—each purchasing an Audi Q5 from a dealership in King of Prussia in mid-April. In return, the brothers signed a contract with Anderson guaranteeing that he would represent them after the Major League Baseball draft in June. Both are considered likely first-round picks.’ ”
Alex stopped reading. “How in the world did Stevie Thomas get all this stuff?” he asked.
Matt had his breath back now. The fact that half the school was listening to him apparently didn’t bother him. “From what I heard, the twins decided they didn’t want to turn pro right away; they wanted to go to college. I guess they told Anderson that’s what they were going to do, and he said he’d go public if they did. They called his bluff, and he ratted them out to the school and the conference.”
Bailey Warner, who had joined the crowd around the table, asked the question Alex was going to ask: “Doesn’t this make them ineligible to play in college?”
Matt shook his head. “They’ll have to file an appeal, and they’ll probably have to return the cars and give Anderson back any money he gave them. But if they do that, there’s a good chance they’ll get to play. But the important thing is—”
“We’re playing for the championship!” Jonas said.
“Exactly,” Matt said. “We’re going to be playing for the championship.”
He sat down, smiling the way he had smiled back in football season, when all had been right in his world.
Once the crowd had dispersed, Alex asked the question he hadn’t wanted to ask in front of half the school.
“This Anderson guy is your Anderson guy, isn’t he?” he said.
Matt nodded. “Oh yeah.”
“Did he offer you money?” Max said. “Or a car?”
“Both,” Matt said. “I turned him down. I knew that was against the rules.”
He looked at Alex and Christine. “I listened to you two,” he said. “I gotta say, the money was tempting, but I wanted to keep my options open. If I’d taken anything from him, I would’ve had to go in the draft this summer. That was the deal.”
“What do you think made the Hermans change their minds?” Jonas asked. “They would’ve both gone in the first round, right?”
“Maybe,” Matt said. “Pitchers generally get drafted higher out of high school than hitters because teams try to take a lot of pitchers and hope one or two pan out. I’m guessing some of the colleges recruiting them explained that to them.”
“But why not go in the draft, see what happens, and then make a decision?” Christine asked. “That’s allowed. Players do it all the time.”
“I’m guessing Anderson told them there wouldn’t be that option,” Matt said. “He wanted the money from repping them now, not later.”
“Well, now he’s got nothing,” Alex said. “Nice move on his part.”
“Nice move for us,” Christine said. “But I do feel sorry for everyone else at KOP. They didn’t do anything wrong.”
“How sorry do you feel for them?” Alex asked.
“Well,” she said, giving him her smile. “A little bit sorry.”
“They didn’t seem too sorry when they were killing us,” Jonas said. “I think I can live with it.”
“And now we have two games that matter this week,” Alex said. “Amazing.”
Coach Birdy’s concern that the team might be flat with nothing to play for was long gone by the time they got to practice that afternoon.
“Listen up, fellas,” he said before they went out to stretch. “I know you all know about what happened to the Hermans and King of Prussia. Honestly, I’m sorry for them. I talked to their coach a little while ago, and he told me the twins are hurting financially and just got sucked in by this agent. Still—I hope all of you are paying attention—this stuff is serious, and it affects all of us.
“That said, KOP’s misfortune means we’ve been handed a second chance. I know you guys are all fired up right now, but let’s all take a deep breath and remember we don’t play until Thursday. Let’s save our fire for then.”
“Let’s go out and kill Chester!” Oliver Flick yelled.
Jonas looked at Alex. “So much, I guess, for saving our fire.”
Alex was trying very hard to focus on explaining D’Artagnan’s courage in joining the Musketeers that night when his phone rang. It was his dad.
“I just talked to your mom,” he said. “She said that as long as you’ve got your homework done, I can take you and Molly to Tony’s for dinner on Wednesday.”
“Wednesday?” Alex said. “You’re coming to town Wednesday?”
“Yup,” his dad said. “I’m going to meet with some new clients Thursday morning, and then I can stick around for your game on Thursday.”
“New clients? You have new clients in Philadelphia?”
“Jake and Joey Herman,” his dad said. “Their coach—his name is Arneke—called me today. He knew I’d worked for Matt, and he said these two kids desperately need legal help and they’ve got absolutely no money—”
“Hang on, Dad. You aren’t going to try to get their eligibility back, are you?” Alex said—panicked one second, sheepish the next, because he realized that was a truly selfish thought.
His dad laughed. “No, Alex, don’t worry. That ship sailed. These kids both really want to go to college. Their dad, who hasn’t been around for years, showed up all of a sudden when they looked like potential moneymakers. He was the one who did all the dealing with this agent—what’s his name?—Anderson. Same sleaze who tried to take advantage of Matt. I’m going to see what I can do about making sure they’re eligible to play in college.”
“You doing it for free?” Alex said.
“Yes,” his dad said. “I enjoyed the way it felt to help Matt out. Plus, it gives me an excuse to see you guys.”
“Your partners don’t mind?” Alex said.
His dad laughed again. “Actually, they think it’s good publicity for the firm—which it is. They’re fine with it. So, you think you can get your homework done to go to Tony’s on Wednesday?”
“You bet,” Alex said.
He wasn’t sure what sounded better—the pizza or seeing his dad again.
The next couple of days at school were almost a letdown.
Alex had gotten spoiled by the buzz in the hallways before big football games and before the conference-championship-deciding basketball game against Chester. Of course, there had been all sorts of controversy leading up to those games. Now the controversy was centered on King of Prussia, and no one at Chester Heights seemed all that fired up about the possibility of winning a tainted conference title in baseball.
“It’s almost like everyone feels like it doesn’t really count if we win,” Alex said to Jonas while they were at their lockers on Thursday morning.
“Maybe that’s because there’s some truth to it. KOP was the best team.”
“But they cheated,” Alex said.
“Not like Matt cheated in football,” Jonas said. “What the Hermans did had no effect on how they played. They were a couple kids with no money and, from what I read, a really bad dude for a father. I feel bad for them.”
Alex knew Jonas was right. He hoped his dad would be able to help them. For now, though, his concern was trying to beat Chester. Tainted or not, someone had to finish first, and it might as well be the Lions. Alex felt confident about his chances to pitch well the next day, but they would be playing the game on the road. They needed to win at home today. And that would be up to Bailey Warner.
The DH Page 20
