The Year Mom Won the Pennant (6 page)

“No! But I think the boys play better for her than they do for her husband!” answered the first fan, and then roared with
laughter. A dozen or so other fans burst out laughing, too.

“Mow ‘em down, Johnny!” another Thunderball fan shouted. “Smoke that pill by ‘em!

The Knicks’ batter watched the first pitch breeze past him for a called strike. He struck at the next one and met it solidly.
A two-bagger that cleaned the bases. The Knicks picked up another run before the Thunderballs managed to get them out. Knicks
9 — Thunderballs 3.

The Thunderballs rallied for two runs in the top of the sixth, but could get no more. The game went to the Knicks.

Mom had hardly entered the house that night when Sue yelled, “The Knicks trimmed the Thunderballs nine to five!”

“Quiet, Sue!” Nick glared at her. “Can’t you let Mom get inside first before you give her that news?”

Mom looked at the faces around her. Her gaze finally settled on her husband. “We can’t win them all, dear,” she said and grinned
at him.

Mom relaxed in an easy chair in the living room and told them about her program at the club. Nick and the girls filled her
in on some of the things that had happened in the ball game. Dad seemed to have very little to add.

At nine-thirty the phone rang in the dining room. Jen set aside the book she was reading to answer it. “For you, Mom,” she
said.

“It’s probably Mrs. Maylor,” muttered
Nick. “She probably wants Mom to run another program.”

Nick tried to strain his ears to hear Mom’s side of the conversation, but he couldn’t. After a while Mom was back in the living
room.

Mom looked at Nick. She was frowning. “That was Mrs. Snow,” she said. “She and Mr. Snow just got home from seeing a movie
and Wayne isn’t home. They had left the door open for him and he’s been home. His uniform’s there. But he is nowhere around
and they’re worried.”

I
haven’t seen him since the ball game,” said Nick. “I don’t know where he could’ve gone. He doesn’t seem to have any other
friends he visits.”

“Even if he does, he should have gone home by now,” said Dad.

“I’ll call up Scotty and a couple of other guys,” said Nick. “Maybe one of them has seen him.”

He made the calls. Scotty said no, he didn’t know where Wayne was. “How about me calling a couple guys and you calling a
couple guys?” he suggested. “Then I’ll call you back?”

“Good idea,” replied Nick and they decided who to call. Neither of the guys Nick called knew where Wayne was. When Scotty
called, his news wasn’t good either.

“Okay, thanks, Scotty.”

“No luck,” Nick said to Mom.

Dad looked at his wristwatch. “The Snows could call the local TV station and have them make an announcement that Wayne is
missing.”

“How about calling the police?” suggested Nick.

Dad said, “That would be up to the Snows.” He shook his head. “Wayne’s never disappeared like this before, has he?”

“Not that I know of,” said Nick. “I can’t understand it.”

And then a thought struck him. Chess. The tent. “That’s a beauty,” Wayne had said
the first time he had seen it. “Ever spend a night in it?”

“Oh, sure,” Nick remembered saying.

It was just possible . . . Without thinking further, he put on a light jacket, got a flashlight, and headed for the door.

“Nick, where are you going?” Dad asked.

“To the tent,” answered Nick. “I’ll be right back.”

He closed the door softly behind him, then stole up to the tent, flashing the light ahead of him. He drew the flaps apart
and looked inside. In the silence he heard soft breathing. He turned the light toward the cot and caught his breath. There
was Wayne Snow, stretched out under a blanket, fast asleep!

Nick went in and shook him. “Wayne! Get up!”

Wayne jerked awake. Nick turned the flashlight away so that the light wouldn’t
blind him. “I must’ve fallen asleep,” murmured Wayne.

“I guess you did,” replied Nick. “Your folks are looking for you.”

Wayne flung the blanket aside and followed Nick out of the tent. There was a sound on the porch and Nick saw Mom and Dad standing
there.

“He’s here,” said Nick. “He was sleeping in the tent.”

“Gracious!” cried Mom, and clattered down the steps in her slippers. “You’ve given a lot of people quite a scare, Wayne. Why
did you do a thing like that and not say anything?”

“I didn’t mean to fall asleep. I just wanted to be here awhile, is all.”

“Your mother and father are dreadfully worried about you.”

“Yeah, I bet.”

Mom frowned. “What?”

“Nothing.”

Mom and Dad looked at each other. Then Mom put an arm around Wayne’s shoulders. “Come on. I’ll drive you home.”

“Good night, Wayne,” said Nick.

“Good night, Nick,” Wayne answered.

O
n Friday, August 5, the Thunderballs played the Zebras. The sky was cloudy and getting darker every minute. A storm was brewing
in the west.

The teams played four innings before the rain came and halted everything. Fans scattered out of the park to their cars or
whatever shelter they could find. The Thunderballs and the Zebras sought the shelter of their dugouts.

After a while the base and plate umpires got together, discussed the situation, and called off the game. Since it had gone
at
least four innings, the Thunderballs, leading 7 to 3, were declared the winners.

On August 11 they played the Tornadoes for the third time, not counting the practice game. It was the Tornadoes’ last game
of the season. Tomorrow’s game between the Thunderballs and the Stars would be the last for the Thunderballs.

The Tornadoes had beaten the Zebras on Wednesday, leaving them with a record of six wins and five losses. Up till today the
Thunderballs’ record was seven wins and three losses. If they beat the Tornadoes today, they would clinch the pennant.

If! A small word, thought Nick. But it meant so much!

From the Tornadoes’ dugout Coach Stevens was watching his star hurler, Lefty Burns, warming up. Now and then he glanced toward
the Thunderballs’ bench. Could it be that he was worried?

Nick grinned and looked at Mom. She was in the dugout, writing up the batting order. It was hard to tell whether she was nervous.

After a while the Tornadoes infielders took their practice and then the Thunder-balls took theirs. A few minutes later the
ball game began.

The crowd was the largest Nick had seen at the park. He stood by the dugout and watched, hoping to see the Snows. But in the
sea of faces it was almost impossible to recognize anyone.

Frankie Morrow, on the mound for the Thunderballs, took his time. The infielders were giving him all the verbal support they
could. “Down the groove, Frankie!”

“Breeze it by ‘im, Frankie!”

“Go for it, kid! Let’s get ‘em outa there!”

Frankie toed the rubber, stretched, delivered. A bunt down the third-base line! Pat
seemed to be taken by surprise; he started after the ball too late. By the time he got it and pegged to first, the runner
was there. The Tornado was given a hit.

“Let’s wake up, boys!” shouted Mom, sitting beside Nick in the dugout. “Keep on your toes!”

Nick looked toward the Tornadoes’ dugout. Just as he thought. . . nearly the entire Tornadoes’ bench was laughing.

“You tell ‘em, Coach!” Bugs Wheeler yelled. “They’ll need it!”

Another bunt! And again toward third! Pat, playing in, fielded it. He started to throw to second, saw that he might not get
the runner, then pegged to first. Out!

The next hitter drove a hard grounder to short. Jim fielded it, pegged to first. Two outs!

The next hitter tagged a long one to left
center that went for a double, scoring the runner. Frankie struck the next man out.

Jerry Wong was the only one who managed to get a hit in the bottom of the inning. He died on second. The Tornadoes picked
up another run when they came to bat.

“A run an inning!” yelled Bugs Wheeler. “That’s enough to beat the Thunderballs!”

“Can’t someone knock a foul ball right square into his big mouth?” muttered Scotty.

Mom laughed. “Let him enjoy himself, Scotty. Our laugh will come. Remember, ‘He who laughs last. . .’”

“’Laughs best,’” finished Scotty.

“Or ‘longest.’”

Wayne led off. He took a called strike, then two balls. Then he leaned into a low pitch and drove it solidly toward deep left
field. It kept going . . . going . . . going ... A home run!

The smile on Wayne’s face as he crossed the plate was the first real one Nick had seen in a long time. The guys gripped his
hand. The fans cheered and clapped.

“Okay. The ice is broken,” Mom said. “Let’s keep it cracking.”

Russ hit a high one that pierced the sky, then came down only to be caught by the second baseman. Pat beat out a slow grounder
to short, bringing up Frankie, who got a loud hand from the fans. Frankie fouled two pitches, then fanned for out number two.
Bill laced a double over the second baseman’s head, scoring Pat. Then Jerry flied out. The score was tied at 2 all.

The Tornadoes’ lead-off man tried to bunt the first pitch and missed. He took a ball, then hit a hard grounder back at Frankie.
Frankie tossed the ball to first for an easy out. The next batter hit a high foul ball over
Wayne’s head. Wayne caught it. A hit and an error put two men on, but Frankie struck out the next man for the third out.

“What happened to that run an inning, Bugsy?” Nick yelled across to the Tornado catcher.

Bugs smiled. “Don’t worry! We’ll pick it up the next time!”

Jim led off in the bottom of the third. A Texas leaguer over short! Then Tom Warren laid into Lefty Burns’s first pitch and
drilled it to right center, scoring Jim. Nick, in the coaching box at third, held Tom up at the third-base sack. Mike struck
out.

“Another blast, Wayne!” the fans shouted as Wayne came to bat.

He blasted one, a high fly to center field. The fielder stepped back three steps and pulled it in. Tom tagged up, then ran
in to score. Russ flied out for the second time.
Three away. But they had gone ahead by two runs.

“Okay, Nick,” said Mom. “Take short in place of Jim. Gale, take center field. Scotty, left field. Cyclone, third base. And
hold
them.”

C
oach Stevens was standing outside the dugout, his voice booming above those of the crowd. “Come on, Tommy! You’re better than
he is! Get on, boy!”

Tommy got on.

Mom shouted to Cyclone at third base to play in on the grass in case of a bunt. But the next hitter didn’t bunt. He laced
a pitch between third and short for a single, advancing the runner to second. The third hitter socked a hard grounder to Nick.
Nick fumbled it, then retrieved it in time to throw out
the man at third. One away. Men on first and second.

Frankie rubbed the ball, then lifted off his cap and wiped his forehead with the sleeve of his jersey. It was a scorching
hot day. Clouds lay like tattered strings across the sky. Many of the fans wore sunglasses. Those who didn’t squinted against
the sunlight.

Frankie toed the rubber, nodded at the signal from Wayne, then stretched and delivered. The ball breezed in belt-high and
the batter swung. The blow was solid. The ball sailed over second, heading for the vacant space between right and center fields.
It was good for three bases. The Tornadoes couldn’t knock the man in but they had evened the score, 4 to 4.

Nick didn’t want to look toward the Tornadoes’ bench, but he couldn’t help it. Bugs
Wheeler had just said something to Coach Stevens and they were laughing as if it were very funny.

The Thunderballs banged out two hits against Lefty during their turn at bat, but could not score. The Tornadoes came to bat
in the top of the fifth and started to hit Frankie all over the lot.

Nick looked at Mom. What was she waiting for? The Tornadoes to get 16 runs off him?

“Mom!” he shouted and turned red as he realized that he must have been heard all over the diamond. Laughter rippled from the
fans.

A run scored. A man walked. Another one hit.

“For crying out loud, Mom!” This time he hardly cared.

“Nick! Stop yelling at her like that! She knows what she’s doing!”

The strong voice came from behind him. Nick turned and looked at Gale Matson.

“Yell all you want, Nick,” said Gale. “But not at your mom. You’ll just shake her up. Leave her alone.”

The words sank into Nick and bit a little, made him think. Gale was right. He had no business yelling at Mom like that. She
had done a great job coaching all season. Nick realized that he was quite proud of her.

The Tornadoes scored another run, and then Mom took Frankie out and put in Johnny Linn. There were two on and one away. A
tough spot for Johnny.

He pitched to the first hitter and struck him out amid loud cheers from the fans. “One more, Johnny!” his teammates yelled.
“One more!”

A line drive over short! A run scored! The next man flied out, ending the half-inning. Tornadoes 7 — Thunderballs 4.