Authors: Fred Bowen
S
cott sat in the dugout before the Twins game and looked at the Tigers lineup one more time. He tapped the eraser end of his pencil against the paper, tempted to change the column of names. Finally, he stood up and called, “Bring it in, everybody.”
The Tigers gathered around. Scott took a deep breath and said, “Listen up. I’m gonna make some changes. We’re up first, so here’s the lineup: Maggie’s leading off today and playing second.”
Scott could feel the team stirring but he continued. “Nick’s gonna catch and hit second. Drew’s pitching. Danny will start at first and hit cleanup. I’m at short. Max,
you’re in left batting sixth. Fran’s at third. Peter’s not here, so Eric will start in center. Benny’s in right batting ninth. All right, let’s get off to a good start and win one!”
Scott stood at the edge of the dugout as the first Tiger batters picked out their favorite bats and helmets.
“Come on, Maggie!” Scott shouted as she stepped to the plate. “Look ‘em over. Walk’s as good as a hit.”
Drew stood with his hat and batting helmet next to Scott. “What gives?” he asked in a half whisper. “Why am I pitching today? I pitched last game.”
“Don’t worry. I’m gonna pitch the last three innings,” Scott said.
Drew’s face twisted into a question mark.
“Just give it your best shot for three innings, okay?” Scott said, turning back to the game. “Come on, Maggie, be a hitter.”
“And what’s the deal with Maggie leading off?” Drew asked.
“I just figured we better try something different,” Scott said, smiling and looking toward Benny. But Benny didn’t see the
smile. He was scribbling in his notebook as Maggie fouled off a pitch. “Straighten it out, Maggie!” Scott shouted.
“I sure hope you know what you’re doing, Coach,” Drew said as he took a practice swing.
The new lineup looked good as Maggie worked a walk to lead off the inning. Nick hit a hard grounder that the Twins shortstop juggled. Maggie slid into second base just before the throw. The Tigers had runners on first and second. No outs.
Drew hit a pop-up that was caught in short center field. But Danny and Scott both banged out clutch singles to give the Tigers a 2–0 lead.
Drew took the mound next. He breezed through the first two innings, holding the Twins to one hit. In the bottom of the third inning, with the Tigers still leading 2–0, the Twins batter smacked a two-out single into center field.
“Come on, Drew,” Scott chattered from shortstop. “Just one more out. Bear down, buddy.”
The next Twins batter lofted a lazy fly ball to right field. Benny took a couple of nervous steps to his left and held up his glove. The ball plunked against the heel of Benny’s glove and dropped to the grass.
“Get it in!” Scott shouted to Benny. The Tigers right fielder tossed the ball to Scott but it was too late to catch the speeding Twins runner at the plate. The Tigers now led 2–1.
Drew struck out the next Twins batter with three angry fastballs.
Scott shouted encouragement as the Tigers hustled off the field. “Eric. Then Brendan’s hitting for Benny. Then the top of the order. We’re gonna need more runs.”
Drew looked down the bench to Benny writing in his notebook. “Be sure to put down an error for the right fielder, Brain!” Drew shouted. “Let’s try playing baseball instead of just watching it.”
“Cut it out, Drew. Believe me, we need Benny,” Scott said angrily to his friend. “Now let’s get the run back.”
The Tigers rallied in the top of the fourth
inning. Brendan, Maggie, and Drew loaded up the bases with a walk and two singles.
Scott knew a big moment in the game had come when Danny stepped to the plate.
Bases loaded, two outs, and a one-run lead
, Scott thought as he stood at the on-deck circle rubbing his bat nervously.
“Come on, Danny, be a sticker. Ducks on the pond!” shouted Scott.
Danny drilled a line shot to left center field. The Twins left fielder raced over and leaped. The ball whizzed right by his outstretched glove and bounced to the wall.
The Tiger bench exploded in cheers as three Tigers sprinted around the bases and crossed home plate.
“All right, Danny! Big stick!”
“Three runs batted in. Let’s get some more!”
The Tigers added another run in the later innings, but it hardly mattered. Scott pitched three solid innings and the Tigers won for the first time that season, 6–1.
After the last out, the team swarmed around Scott chanting, “Game ball, game
ball, game ball.” Scott held up a battered baseball for silence.
“Everybody played great today but this can only go to one guy. Danny’s double broke the game open,” Scott said, tossing the ball to Danny as the Tigers whooped and hollered.
The team left happy. Smiling, Scott gathered the equipment into the big brown bag. Slinging the heavy bag onto his back, Scott walked over to Benny, who was sitting alone on the grandstand studying his notebook.
“Got today’s pitching stats?” Scott asked.
“Yeah, want to take a look?”
Scott studied the neat columns of figures.
“They look pretty good,” Scott said, still smiling.
Benny pointed to the paper. “Notice your first inning was a lot stronger then Drew’s last. He was starting to get tired.”
Scott nodded. “Looks like you’re a pretty good coach, Peaches,” he winked.
“Don’t call me Peaches, okay?”
“Okay, Benny.”
T
hree weeks later, Scott, Drew, and Fran blew through the door of the Hudsons’ house and threw their baseball gloves on a chair.
“Is that you, Scott?” called Scott’s father from the kitchen.
“Yeah, Dad.”
“How was practice?”
“Great! The team is getting better all the time.”
“You should be. You guys are practicing almost every day. Do you have much homework tonight?”
“Not much. I did most of it in school. Drew, Fran, and I are going upstairs, okay?”
“Fine with me. We’ll eat when Mom gets home from work. I’m going to make hamburgers.”
“Right, Dad,” Scott called as he scrambled up the stairs.
The three friends flew into Scott’s bedroom. Drew grabbed a small ball and tossed a quick jump shot at the miniature hoop hanging on the closet door.
Swish.
“Okay. What did you want to show us?” Drew asked.
“Not so fast. First look at this,” Scott said as he handed Drew and Fran the Tigers schedule. Drew and Fran glanced down the columns.
“We still got a shot at a winning season, don’t you think?” Scott asked.
“Maybe,” said Fran.
“Fat chance,” said Drew, tapping the schedule. “We got the Yanks and the Red Sox left, and we’d have to win both games. Eddie Wilson of the Red Sox is the best hitter in town. And the only guys hitting in our team are you, me, and Danny.”
“Come on, Drew,” said Fran. “What about Maggie and me? We’re no slouches.”
“Fran’s right,” Scott said. “Here. This is what I wanted to show you.” Scott opened a desk drawer and pulled out a piece of paper and handed it to Drew.
“What’s this?” Drew asked.
“The team batting statistics after thirteen games.”
Drew studied them as Fran looked over his shoulder.
“What’s OBP?” Drew asked.
“On Base Percentage—how often a batter gets on base. And walks count,” said Scott.
Fran pointed at the paper. “Hey, Maggie’s got the best OBP on the team.”
“You’re right, Fran,” said Drew, turning a little red.
“That’s why Maggie’s the leadoff hitter,” Scott said, sounding a bit like Benny.
Fran looked at Scott. “Did you do these stats?” she asked.
“No.”
“Your dad?”
Scott shook his head.
“Who then?”
“Benny,” Scott said matter-of-factly.
“Benny!” said Drew. “So that’s what the Brain’s been doing with all the stuff he writes in his notebooks.” Then Drew laughed, pointing at the paper. “The Brain does a lot better job keeping the stats than he does playing the game. You know who is the worst hitter? Benjamin P. Myles,” said Drew. “He’s 1 for 12.”
“Give Benny a break, Drew,” Scott said. “He’s getting better, especially in the field. And his stats have really helped the team. Face it, you couldn’t do the stats.”
“What do you mean?” Drew asked, sounding hurt. “I got a B in math on my last report card. I could keep the stats.”
“You know what I mean,” Scott said. “We’d be lost without Benny’s brainpower.”
“Yeah, maybe,” Drew said, and he quickly changed the subject. “Hey, did you ever find out what the P stands for in Brain’s name?” he asked.
“Oh yeah, it stands for …” Scott stopped, remembering his promise.
“Come on, what’s it stand for?” Drew pressed.
“Nah … I … ah … promised Benny I wouldn’t tell anyone.”
“Come on, we’re buddies.”
Scott shook his head.
“Come on, tell. Fran and I won’t blab it to anybody,” Drew said.
“All right,” Scott said impatiently. “It’s Peaches.”
“Peaches!” Fran and Drew blurted out at the same time.
“Come on, you guys. You can tell anybody,” Scott pleaded. “And don’t tell anybody
that Benny’s keeping stats. He doesn’t want anybody to know.”
“I can see why he doesn’t want anybody knowing his middle name,” said Fran. “I won’t tell anybody.”
Fran and Scott then looked over at Drew.
“Don’t worry,” Drew said. “I can keep a secret.”