Extra Innings (6 page)

Still with the lead, the Eagles were determined to extend it and secure their first victory of the season. Tiki, who had struck out in the second, did it again in the bottom of the fifth.

Then, with two out and nobody on in the bottom of the sixth, Ronde managed to pull another fastball between the third baseman and the bag. Soon after, he stole second, and then third base!

Lenny followed by drawing a walk, but Ronde was
stranded at third when Chris popped up to the pitcher, and the score remained 3–2, Eagles. That one run lead felt very, very shaky to a team that had done nothing yet but lose.

In their half of the seventh, facing defeat, the Colts finally broke through and tied the game. Ronde slammed his mitt to the ground out in center when he realized the Eagles might not get their first win after all. But he quickly picked the glove up again and got himself ready for the next hitter.

The bases were loaded, and Ronde could only watch in frustration as Ian Lloyd, tiring after pitching five innings for the first time, walked the next three hitters to put Martinsville ahead, 6–3.

The Eagles entered the bottom of the seventh facing a third straight loss to start their season. But they still had three outs to work with, and right away they showed they would not go down without a fight.

Ian Lloyd began the inning with a double, somewhat making up for his wildness on the mound, but Tiki followed that by striking out for the third time in a row!

Luckily, the Colts' reliever, who had been throwing a lot of pitches himself, chose just that time to lose the plate. He walked the next two hitters, then hit Tyquan Brown to bring in a run, still with only one out!

The score was now 6–4, and the Eagles had life. Unfortunately, they were coming to the bottom of their
batting order—their weakest hitters—just when they needed a hit most.

The number eight man, John Benson, who had shifted from pitching to third base after the first four innings, hit a sharp single to center, scoring Michael Mason from third, and giving the Eagles their fifth run of the game, still with only one out.

The stands erupted in cheers and the thumping of drums. Now it was up to Ronde. A walk would tie the game. A hit would almost surely win it.

Ronde was ready for the fastest fastball, and was so wound up that he swung at the first pitch, even though it was in the dirt.

“Stee-rike one!” the umpire bellowed.

“Stay loose, Ronde!” Coach Raines called out to him from the bench. “Breathe!”

Ronde lunged at the next pitch, a curve, and was way ahead of it. “Stee-rike two!” the umpire yelled.

Ronde told himself to relax. He breathed deeply, remembering the coach's words. When the pitch came, he swung early, and hard—and hit a slow grounder to short.

Ronde ran like the wind as the shortstop threw to second for one out. The second baseman fired the ball to first—but Ronde was too fast, and he beat the throw by a whisker. “Safe!” called the ump, as Cesar crossed the home plate with the tying run!

The crowd and the Eagles' players all erupted in wild
cheering. But the cheering quieted down again when Lenny grounded out to end the inning with the game still tied, 6–6.

The game went on, into extra innings. With Benson and Lloyd both already used as pitchers, Coach Raines called Tiki in from second base to pitch!

Tiki looked stunned when he was handed the ball, but Ronde saw him nod as the coach gave him a quick pep talk.

Amazingly, even though he walked three batters and threw a ton of pitches, Tiki got through the inning without giving up a run.
Whew!
thought Ronde, trotting in from the outfield.
Let's hope we don't need Tiki to get us another three outs!

In the bottom of the inning, the first two Eagles hitters grounded out. Then everyone leaned forward as Tiki came to the plate. In spite of his three strikeouts, they all knew he had the power to end this game with one swing. He'd homered in the first inning, so why not again now?

With two out and no one on, Tiki was swinging for the fences all the way. But instead of making solid contact, he wound up hitting a dribbler right in front of the plate!

Everyone was so shocked that for an instant no one moved. Tiki was the first to kick his motor into gear, and with lightning speed he streaked toward first base. The catcher and pitcher both went for the ball, but it
was exactly halfway between them, and neither of them came up with it cleanly. Tiki reached first safely, on the weakest hit anyone had had all day!

On the first pitch to the next batter, Tiki was off to steal second. The catcher threw, but the ball bounced into center, and Tiki got up and kept right on going! By the time the throw came in to third, he was on his way home—and the throw there arrived at the same time he did. . . .

“Safe!” the umpire called.

And it was over. Just like that. The Eagles had won their first game, 6–5, in the most unpredictable of ways!

All his teammates mobbed Tiki, and the happy mood continued long afterward in the locker room as the players showered and changed.

Tiki and Ronde were right in the middle of it, enjoying their hard-won victory like everybody else, when Coach Raines's voice caught them up short.

“Tiki! Ronde!” he called. “Don't go anywhere. I need to speak to you both—privately.”

Uh-oh,
Ronde thought.
What's this all about?
He looked over at Tiki, but his brother was obviously just as in the dark as he was.

One thing was clear, though. From the tone of the coach's voice, this could not be good.

“One at a time,” Coach
Raines told the twins. Pointing to Ronde, he said, “You first. Follow me.” With a glance back at his brother, Ronde followed the coach down the little hallway to his office. Ronde looked like he was going to the electric chair.

“This might take a few minutes,” Coach Raines told Tiki as he held the door open for Ronde. “You might want to crack a book open or something while you're waiting. Never hurts to get some studying done.”

As soon as the office door closed, Tiki got up and left the locker room. He couldn't concentrate on schoolwork—not right now. There was something else he needed to do right away, before even talking to the coach.

For the past two games Tiki had been constantly wondering what was wrong with his game. Finally, after striking out three times in a row today, it dawned on him
there might be something wrong with
him
.
More specifically, with his
eyesight
.

Tiki headed quickly down the hall to the nurse's office and opened the door. No one inside at the moment—a good thing as far as Tiki was concerned.

Spotting the eye chart on the far wall, he stood on the red line and covered his left eye. Thankfully, his right eye could read even the smallest line of text just fine. Covering his right eye, he saw that there was nothing wrong with the left one either.

“Tiki? Are you okay?” The nurse was just coming into the office.

Tiki whipped his hand away from his eye. “Oh. Yeah. Fine. I was just . . . going,” he said, and slipped past her before she could think what in the world he could be doing there if he wasn't sick.

Tiki ran back down the hall to the locker room, and saw that the office door was still closed. Inside he could hear Coach Raines's voice. He wasn't shouting, but he didn't sound happy, either. Tiki forced himself not to listen.

He should have been relieved to find out that there was nothing wrong with his eyesight. But strangely, he felt worse, not better. If the problem wasn't that he needed glasses, what was it? What was causing him to choke in big situations, game after game?

The door opened, and Ronde came shuffling out. He did not meet Tiki's gaze but instead just sat down next
to him on the bench. “Your turn,” he said. “I'll wait for you here.”

Tiki glanced up at the open door, then back at Ronde. He wanted to ask his twin what the coach had said, but something in Ronde's manner stopped him. Instead he rose slowly and trudged into the office.

“Take a seat, Tiki,” said Coach Raines, who was seated behind his desk, looking at a bunch of scorecards. When Tiki was seated, the coach continued. “I'm looking here at your at bats,” he said, shuffling the papers around. “Two for thirteen, a bunch of strikeouts, one home run, one infield hit. Overall, I'm not happy, and you shouldn't be either.”

“I'm not!” Tiki said sincerely. “I just don't know what to do about it, though. I'm seeing the ball okay—I checked and my eyes are twenty-twenty!”

“Hey, it's okay,” Raines said, holding up a hand and offering Tiki a quick smile. “I believe you, kid. It's just, something's gotta change here. We're 1–2, and we could have easily gone 0–3 just now.”

Tiki had to fight back the lump that was rising in his throat. It sure sounded like the coach was blaming him and Ronde. Why hadn't he called on anyone else to stay? It was the only reason Tiki could think of.

“Look, I'll level with you, Tiki. You and your brother are the best athletes we've got. You've both got speed, and good gloves, strong arms, and
you
've got some nice pop in your bat besides.”

Tiki was taken aback by the coach's words. He'd expected to get chewed out. “Uh, thanks,” he managed to say.

But Coach Raines wasn't finished. “If our team is going to make a good showing this year, it's got to be you and Ronde leading the way. Some nice baserunning, a lot of excellent fielding, but too many mental errors. And that's why neither one of you is hitting a lick.”

Tiki felt smacked down again. Hadn't the coach just been praising him and Ronde?

“Ronde's got some issues with his swing, but in your case I think it's all about your approach at the plate. The good news is, I think I know how to help you.”

“O . . . kay . . .”

“Here's the problem—you're trying to hit a home run every single pitch.”

“Yeah? So?” Tiki was confused. Wasn't that the cleanup hitter's job?

“In a way it's my fault,” the coach said. “I probably shouldn't have batted you fourth. But from now on you're going to be hitting leadoff.”

“What?” Tiki bounded up out of his chair, but the coach stood up, reached over the desk, put a hand on his shoulder, and gently sat him back down.

Tiki felt the sting of hurt pride. The coach was demoting him, that was what it felt like.

“I've been considering it for a while,” Coach Raines
explained. “I want you and Ronde to concentrate on just getting on base. With your speed it messes up the opposing pitcher's rhythm. I've seen what happens when you're out on the base paths. Trouble is, neither one of you is getting on enough. In your case it's because you're always in home run mode. You've got to start hitting to the situation more.”

“Huh?”

“How many outs are there? Who's on base? Are they fast? What's the score? What inning is it?”

“Yeah . . . ?”
No, duh
, Tiki thought.
Like I don't know that already
. But he knew there was some truth in what the coach was saying. He'd been thinking about all the home runs he hit in batting practice, not the game situation at that moment.

“You've got great power,” the coach said, “but when you swing for the fences, your swing is totally out of control. Like this.” Stepping back to make sure he had enough room, Coach Raines proceeded to demonstrate a wild home run swing. “I think you even closed your eyes that last at bat, didn't you?

“It's okay if you hit a single,” said the coach, putting the bat back down. “Especially if it drives in a run. And it's okay to take a pitch if it's not in the right place.”

“Huh?”

“For instance, you've got a man on first with nobody out. You want to hit it to the right side of the infield,
between first and second—because that advances the runner, even if you ground out. And another thing—I told your brother this too—don't always be trying to pull the ball. Hit the ball where it's pitched. If it's outside, go the other way with it—hit it to left field.”

“But you just said to hit it to the right side!” Tiki said, confused.

“See, that's exactly what I mean! It depends on the situation.”

Tiki sighed. “Okay, Coach. I get it, I guess. So, can I still bat cleanup if I change my approach?”

“You're my leadoff man from now on, Tiki. Start thinking like one. All you've got to do is get yourself on base and start causing havoc with your speed. Next practice I want you to focus on baserunning drills. And in batting practice try to hit ground balls so you can use your speed to leg out hits. Practice your bunting, too. And don't forget—when it comes to game time, a walk's as good as a hit, so don't even think about swinging at pitches that aren't strikes.

“Cheer up, kid. It's not the end of the world, and it's going to make us a better team. Remember, Tiki—we're gonna win as a team, with everybody contributing, or we're not gonna win at all.”

That hit Tiki right where he lived. He'd always prided himself on being all about the team! Hadn't he told Jason that when they'd been comparing baseball to track?

“And besides,” Coach Raines added with a wink, “hitting leadoff, you might get an extra at bat every game. The more times you come to the plate, the happier I'll be.” He laughed, and added, “You'll probably wind up hitting more homers this way, anyway.” He got up and opened the door for Tiki.

“Okay, that's all. See you at practice.”

• • •

Ronde rose as Tiki approached, and both boys, without a word to each other, shuffled out of the locker room and headed home.

The weather had turned warmer, and the days had gotten long enough now so that they could bike to and from school. As they rode, Tiki and Ronde both remained deep in thought.