Baseball Turnaround (7 page)

Sandy thought that over. “But how can I be open with them and not tell them about my — my dark past?”

“Why do you want to keep that from them? Everyone makes mistakes, Sandy. Sure, yours was a little worse than others, but you
paid the price. With interest, as far as I’m concerned. And I’m sure my brother has warned you of the dangers of letting others
tell your story for you. There’s nothing harder to squash than a rumor gone wild.”

Sandy was unconvinced and told him so.

“Well, you could try starting with something simpler, I guess. Like winning them over with your spectacular play on the field
and showing enthusiasm for your team. I know you can do that.”

Sandy hung up with that advice in his head. He decided it was the best place to start, for now.

How he was going to go about winning over his teammates was the question brewing in his mind
the next day at practice and the one that followed that. In fact, he was so preoccupied with his thoughts that he started
to play poorly on the field. By the end of the second day, Coach Winston took him aside.

“Sandy, I don’t know what’s going on with you, but I’m not having someone with his head in the clouds starting at third base.
Tomorrow’s game, Josh Grant is my third baseman.”

Sandy couldn’t believe it. It was the worst thing that could have happened!

The next day, the Raptors hit the field to play the Pelicans.

“Everybody up!” the coach called. The bench came to its feet as both teams and the crowd stood to listen to a tape recording
of the “Star-Spangled Banner.” Usually that gave Sandy a little flutter of excitement. Today, he scarcely heard the shouts
that echoed out around him at the end of the national anthem.

Encouragement rang from the stands as the game began. The Raptors were first up at bat. Mark Freedman was the leadoff batter,
with Frank Maxwell on deck. Third up was Josh Grant.

The Pelicans’ pitcher was cold starting off. He pitched three consecutive balls, and it looked as though Mark would stroll
down to first base. But the next two were rockets down the middle to bring things to a full count.

Mark managed to get a piece of wood into the next pitch. The ball rose high into left field but not deep enough to cause trouble.
It was easily put away for out number one.

Any idea that the Pelicans were going to be a pushover quickly vanished.

Frank kept his eye on the ball but watched the count go to 2 and 2. Then he took the next pitch and wiffed it for strike number
three.

Josh Grant swung at the first pitch across the plate. The ball curved around the third base line and looked as though it was
heading for foul territory. But then it ended its arc and continued to soar over the turf into left field, as close to the
foul line as it could go. The Pelican left fielder caught it in his outstretched glove. A fat goose egg went up on the scoreboard
for the top of the first inning.

The Pelicans didn’t show themselves to be much more at bat than the Raptors had been. Lenny
Burton, a southpaw, was on the mound for the Raptors. His very first pitch was a sizzler that told everyone he meant business.

After striking out the first two batters, he allowed a single to short to put a hit, the first one, on the scoreboard.

But the next Pelican batter hit a high foul ball that hovered above the first base line. Lenny dashed in for it and put it
away to end the inning.

Philip Wood was the leadoff batter for the Raptors in the second inning. He carefully selected his bat and started toward
the plate.

Cheers rose up from the rest of the team. This time, Sandy added his own.

“Come on, Philip! You can do it!”

Philip managed to hit a line drive beyond the pitcher for a clean, stand-up single. The Raptors were on the scoreboard with
their first hit.

It was Jimmy’s turn to see what he could do. The count rose to 3 and 2. Jimmy had to look sharp on the next pitch.

When it came, he swung forward with enough power to send the ball soaring toward the wall. But
instead of going over for a homer, the ball landed in the mitt of the Pelicans’ center fielder.

The next batter, Tony Cataldo, stepped up to the plate. Sandy sat in silence. Tony was a good enough hitter, but Sandy had
a feeling his own stats were better.

Tony swung on a breaking pitch and caught it a little inside. The ball flew out to the second baseman, who put it away. He
went after Philip, who was making a break for second. Luckily, Philip was fast enough to get there on a slide. His fingers
touched the bag a fraction of a second before he was tagged.

The Raptors’ hopes for a score were still alive as their shortstop, Dewey Williams, took his chance at the plate. Unfortunately,
after popping a foul ball off the third base line, he swung at two bad pitches and the top of the second inning was over.

Lenny let two Pelicans get on base at the bottom of the second. But he managed to hold them there as the next three batters
were put away to end a scoreless inning.

In the third inning, a walk put Lenny on base. Ben Eaton, the catcher, sent him home with a stand-up
double, and the Raptors were first to draw blood. Unfortunately, they couldn’t extend the streak and retired with only one
run on the scoreboard.

They held their lead until the bottom of the fifth. Sandy had just about worn out the seat of his pants shifting around on
the bench. He had sat out during games before, but never the whole game. The coach seemed satisfied with the lineup, however,
even though the Raptors’ lead was so thin.

Lenny was tiring. He walked the first two Pelicans before putting out the third batter with some pitches that barely made
it into the zone. Finally, Coach Winston called time and walked out to the mound. Ben Eaton and Josh Grant joined him to speak
to the southpaw hurler. Sandy figured they were discussing how to handle things if the next batter got a hit. But the talk
went on for a longer time than such a discussion needed.

For a moment, it looked like the coach might call in a replacement. But Lenny stayed on the mound as the others returned to
their positions.

There was a murmur of excitement as play resumed.

The Pelicans’ shortstop was at bat. He shuffled his feet, settled the bat in position, and waited.

Lenny stared down the line. He wound up, hesitated for a second, and then threw.

The ball came zooming along and, like magnet to metal, it connected with the bat.

Craaaack!

The horsehide sphere rose high overhead and sailed over the field deeper and deeper. Finally, it dropped over the fence for
a home run. Three Pelican runners crossed the plate to turn the score to their advantage, 3–1.

C
oach Winston pulled Lenny off the mound and sent in right-hander Mitch Lessem to turn things around. Sandy wondered if any
more substitutions were in the offing. If so, where would he end up?

Right where he was seated was the answer. The coach left the rest of the lineup on the field just as it was.

Mitch brought about groans when he walked his first batter. But he gave the fans something to cheer about when he put the
next Pelican away one-two-three. He capped the inning by pitching a low ball that the next batter scooped for a pop-up to
third base.

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.

T
he 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.