Hit & Miss (7 page)

On the next pitch Cubby stole second base. “Yeah!” Derek shouted from the on-deck circle.

Jason, batting second, hit a slow ground ball to the third baseman, who was playing off the bag. Jason was fast too, though not as speedy as Cubby. Jason beat the third baseman's throw to first for an infield single, and Cubby wound up on third.

Derek could barely contain his excitement. He'd been red-hot at the plate in practice. Now with two runners on, it was his big chance to start the season off right.

He took a mighty swing at the first pitch, but the ball was high, and Derek barely made contact. The result was a weak fly ball to shortstop, and the first out of the inning.

“Aaargh!” Derek groaned as he headed back to the bench. How had he missed that pitch? It had been right there in his eyes!

“That's okay, man,” Dave told him as he sat back down. “You'll get 'em next time for sure.”

“For sure!” Vijay agreed. “Don't worry. We're going to score now anyway. You'll see.”

Derek sighed and nodded. Vijay was right. It was about what the
team
did, not about himself. He sat, watched, and cheered as Jeff, their cleanup hitter, flied to center field. Cubby tagged up and ran home after the catch, scoring the Red Sox's first run.

Isaiah came to bat next. He hit a shot down the first-base line for a double, and Jason scored to make it 2–0!

Dave came to the plate next. “Go, Dave!” Derek yelled, standing up and clapping. “Hit it out of here!”

Dave was clearly trying to do exactly that. He swung his long, loopy golf swing one, two, three times—without making any contact at all.

“Strike three!” yelled the umpire, and that was the end of the top of the inning.

Derek grabbed his mitt and trotted out onto the field, followed by the rest of the Sox. Jeff took the mound and started his warm-up throws. Jeff was usually pretty accurate. Today, though, he was all over the place. Derek guessed he was nervous.

Well, they
all
were. It was the first game of the season!

But that meant the Tigers would be nervous too, Derek thought, especially now that they were down by two runs.

But after the first hitter made it all the way to third on a sizzling ground ball up the first-base line, and the second hitter reached on a dropped fly ball in left by Miles, the Tigers had a lot fewer reasons to be nervous.

The number three hitter dug into the batter's box. Derek pounded his mitt twice with his fist. “Hit it here,” he muttered. “Come on, right here . . .”

Sure enough—as if the hitter had heard him—the line drive came screaming right at Derek's head! He ducked and stuck his glove up, and the ball smacked right into the pocket!

It all happened in a moment. Derek saw the runner going from third base to home, thinking that the ball, hit so hard, would surely have gotten past the shortstop.

But it
hadn't
. And Derek's throw to third would have had him out easily—
if Dave had been at third to catch it.

But, no. Dave (who had already admitted he didn't know all the rules of baseball) had no idea where he was supposed to be. He was standing well away from the base, cheering Derek instead of covering!

Derek winced at the missed opportunity for a double play. He told himself he'd better give Dave a crash course in baseball rules if he wanted the Sox to be a winner this year.

“Come on!” Jason yelled from second base. “Cover that bag!”

“Wake up!” Buster called from first. “Gotta look alive!”

Dave looked bewildered. “Don't worry about them,” Derek told him. “Let's get these next two outs, huh?”

Dave nodded and got his head back into the game. Lucky thing too, because the next batter hit a sharp ground ball to him. Dave caught it cleanly and threw to second to get the runner for the second out.

Meanwhile, the man who'd been on third base scored the Tigers' first run, to cut the Red Sox's lead in half.

The next hitter watched three pitches go by for balls. Then, knowing the pitch would be right down the middle, he smacked it into the outfield, where it fell between Miles and Cubby for a double and the Tigers' second run.

The Tigers weren't through yet either. The next hitter managed a clean single, and the runner scored from second base to make it 3–2.

The batter after him grounded to second, ending the inning,
finally
, but the Red Sox had lost their lead, and Derek wasn't feeling so confident anymore.

After a scoreless second, Derek led off the third inning. This time he promised himself he wouldn't swing at the first pitch, no matter what. His first at bat had been over before it had even begun, and he wasn't about to let that happen again.

Sure enough, he let the first pitch go by, and groaned when he saw how easy it would have been to hit! The next
pitch wasn't nearly as good, but Derek took a swing at it anyway—and
missed
.

Now the count was 0–2, and he had to swing at any pitch that was close to a strike, or risk being called out. The pitch came in outside, but close enough that Derek had to swing.

He made contact, but it wasn't solid contact. His weak pop-up was caught by the first baseman for the out, and Derek shook his head in frustration as he headed back to the bench again.

On the way he glanced up into the bleachers and saw his family trying to cheer him up. Derek raised both arms toward his dad, as if to say,
What am I doing wrong?

His dad made a motion with both his hands palm down, as if to say,
Calm down
.

Derek nodded. It was good advice. The game was far from over, and this was no time to get down on himself.

In the bottom of the fourth, with the score still 3–2, Jeff gave up a leadoff triple. He struck out the next two batters, keeping the runner at third. But the next batter singled the run in, to make it 4–2, Tigers.

Jeff struck out the next guy to end the inning, but now the Red Sox's job was twice as hard. They had to come back from two runs down instead of one, with only two innings left to play.

Jason led off the top of the fifth. Derek and the rest of the team were all standing now, clapping and yelling
encouragement—and Jason gave them something to cheer about with a line drive double to right field.

Derek came to the plate, trying to calm himself down. His heart was racing, and he could feel the cold sweat on his neck.

It was hard to be calm, because he knew he could drive in a run with a single.
In fact,
he couldn't help thinking,
a homer would tie the game.

He'd studied the Tigers' pitcher his first two times at bat, and even though Derek had made outs, he felt like he could get to the pitcher this time.

But before the guy even threw a pitch to Derek, the Tigers coach came out and made a pitching change!

As the new pitcher warmed up, Derek studied him from the on-deck circle. The new guy didn't throw too fast, at least.

Derek came to the plate ready to swing, but the first pitch was low. He tried to stop himself, but it was too late.

“Strike one!” the umpire called.

Next, Derek swung at a pitch over the plate, but the ball had a little break on it, and he fouled it off for strike two.

The third pitch was a changeup. It came in high and slow. Derek wound up, his eyes widening, and he swung so hard, he nearly came right out of his shoes!

“Strike three!” yelled the ump.

“Nooo!”
Derek moaned. He'd seen the ball perfectly—it had been right down the middle! He just hadn't been ready for a pitch that was so slow.

So far he'd gone 0 for 3 in this new season, and he hadn't even come close to a hit. Worse, he'd let down his teammates and coach, and he
knew
they'd been counting on him to lead the team in hitting.

Jeff came up next, and drew a walk. Derek clapped and said, “Attaway, Jeff!” His mood began to lift, seeing that his Red Sox were trying to mount a rally even though he'd struck out.

Then Isaiah came to the plate. Obviously thinking home run, he swung too soon and too hard at a soft, slow pitch—and struck out just like Derek had.

Now it was all up to Dave, who had already struck out twice. He let the first two pitches go by for high strikes.

If he was waiting for a low pitch, he wasn't going to get one. The Tigers' coach had obviously noticed that Dave's swing was long and looping, and the coach must have told his pitcher to keep the ball high in the zone so Dave couldn't hit it.

Dave swung at the third pitch, and actually made contact, but he just managed to foul it straight up. The catcher caught it easily for the third out, and the Red Sox failed to score in the fifth, even though they'd gotten two men on base.

As Derek was about to head out to short, Coach Kaufman came up to him and said, “You're pitching.”

“Me?” Derek was surprised.

“You're my number two pitcher, kid. Go get 'em.”

Derek remembered that in practice the other day, Coach had told him and Buster to be ready to pitch if necessary. Derek had just never thought it would actually happen. He'd taken so many swings in the cages yesterday that his arms were sore. If he'd thought he might be pitching, he probably would have quit sooner.

But it was too late to think about that now—he had to do his job, and do it the best he could.

He tried to concentrate on throwing the ball for strikes. He could hear the crowd cheering, his mom's voice rising over some of the others, yelling, “Go, Derek!” He got the ball over for two quick strikes, then served up a pitch right down the middle that the hitter crushed for a long triple.

Derek hung his head in frustration.

“Hang in there, Derek!” Coach Kaufman urged, clapping.

Derek knew he couldn't afford to mope about the triple he'd already given up. He stared in at Isaiah's mitt and bore down, throwing his best fastball right past the next hitter, once, twice, and three times!

The third hitter couldn't seem to catch up to Derek's fastball either, fouling off two pitches before swinging through a third strike.

One more hitter,
Derek told himself,
and I'll be out of this mess.
His arm was really tired now, and he wondered if he had enough strength left to get one more hitter out. He didn't think he could throw another fastball past
anyone. But, of course, the hitter didn't know that—and that was Derek's best hope for success.

He was facing the Tigers' cleanup man—their best power hitter—and Derek fooled him on the first pitch by throwing a slow one right over the middle. The hitter's eyes got as big as saucers. He swung for all he was worth, and just barely made contact, popping it up to the infield.

Derek was just about to say “Yesss!” when he realized that the shortstop, the catcher, and the third baseman were all yelling, “I got it!”

They must have heard one another shouting too, because they all backed off, and the ball fell in between them for a single—scoring the Tigers' fifth run of the game!

Derek sank to his knees and groaned in frustration. He knew these things happened sometimes, that it was just bad luck, really. But his team couldn't afford bad luck, not when they were already down!

Derek struck out the next man on three straight changeups. But was it already too late?

The Red Sox were down to their last licks, with the bottom of the order coming up to bat. Buster, their number seven hitter, led off with a single, but could the Red Sox's subs keep the rally going?

Rocco was next. He'd been put in for Vijay in the fifth. Rocco hadn't shown much hitting ability in practice. But now, in the clutch, he managed to sock a double down
the left field line, sending Buster to third base!

Suddenly the Sox had a rally going. Rocco was followed by Reggie, who'd come in for Miles at the same time that Rocco had come in for Vijay. Reggie seemed not to want to swing, but it turned out fine for the Sox, because the pitcher wound up walking him, loading the bases with nobody out!

Now Cubby came up to bat. Derek watched and cheered, knowing that a bases-clearing double here would tie the game.

Cubby hit a hard line drive, and Derek started to yell with triumph, but it was right at the third baseman, who caught it for the first out. The runner at third had to hurry back to the bag to avoid a double play!

Jason followed with a weak grounder to the pitcher, who made sure the runner at third wasn't trying to come home, then threw to first base for out number two.

Incredibly, it all came down to Derek! He was the team's last hope.

Everyone was screaming, whether for the Sox or the Tigers.
Get a hit,
Derek told himself.
Stay calm and controlled. Just . . . get . . . a hit!

The first pitch came in, looking very fat, very slow, and very, very hittable. Derek forgot all about staying under control. He swung so hard that he threw himself off balance and fell to the ground!

The result of his mighty swing? A pathetic dribbler to
second base. Derek was out by a mile, and so were the Red Sox, by a final score of 5–2.

Derek felt like sinking into the ground. His team had put all those men on base but had scored only two stupid runs!

And it had been mostly his own fault—or at least his as much as anyone else's.

So much for a good start to the new season.
Crushed, Derek lined up with his disappointed teammates to shake hands with the victorious Tigers.

Afterward the Red Sox clapped one another on the back and said “We'll get 'em next time” and stuff like that. But none of it made Derek feel any better.

He looked into the stands for his folks, and was surprised to see his mom and dad talking to none other than
Chase
!

“Hey, look,” Dave said, noticing the same thing at the same time.