Grand Slam Read online

  Daniel leaned over. “What part of ‘a kid who throws only strikes’ didn’t he get?”

  “It’s not always that easy.” Jalen said.

  The next pitch was letter-high and center cut, and it was as if Fanny had heard Daniel. Fanny took his A swing, hoping to send the ball all the way to the Tampa Bay, several miles away. The ball sailed but passed just outside the foul pole. The few Bronxville parents moaned, and Fanny dejectedly picked up his bat.

  Jalen had a thought, but only whispered it under his breath. “Changeup.”

  He waited and watched. The pitch came in at Fanny’s knees, straight as an arrow. Fanny hesitated, then swung down on the ball. The ball put a divot in the hard-packed, dry infield dirt and bounced thirty feet in the air. Fanny took off like a barrel on wheels, but the pitcher stepped under the ball and made the throw to first look casual, even though it beat Fanny by only half a step.

  Jalen was relieved that he hadn’t signaled a changeup to Fanny, because he’d been wrong.

  Gunner advanced to third on the play, and Gertzy looked over his shoulder to Jalen. “Got anything for me?”

  Jalen wagged his head. “Sorry.”

  “See you at home plate.” Gertzy smiled and tipped his cap before heading to the batter’s box.

  Jalen envied Gertzy’s calm, assured manner. He smiled at the pitcher and all around the infield, took two practice swings, and dug in. The Bronxville dugout cheered, fueling Gertzy’s smile even more.

  The first pitch was a touch high, and Gertzy let it go. 1–0.

  Lakeland fans were surprised when the ump called it a ball, but not Gertzy. The next pitch was a bit low, but close. Again, Gertzy let it pass, and again it was a ball. 2–0. Now Gertzy hunkered down in his stance even more. The pitcher, behind 2 and 0, had to throw a strike.

  Jalen thought it had to be a changeup.

  It wasn’t. The pitch came in with everything Hardy had, and Gertzy blasted it. The ball sailed high and far, but Jalen feared it wouldn’t be far enough.

  It would be close.

  59

  THE CENTER FIELDER HAD HIS back to the fence and stretched for all he was worth.

  The Lakeland players and fans went wild as he turned and showed the ball nestled in the palm of his glove.

  Cat looked at Jalen. “So close.”

  “He was close, but I wasn’t close.” Jalen stood and pinched his lips together.

  “What do you mean?” Cat penciled in Gertzy’s fly out.

  Jalen wriggled his hand into his glove. “I’ve guessed two of this kid’s pitches wrong, and that’s all they were, guesses.”

  “You’re just starting, though,” she said.

  He shrugged. “He only has two pitches and he’s a kid, so I figured I’d get a feel for him.”

  “You guys can hit this pitcher without any genius,” she said.

  “We can. But will we? And if we do, can we hold off their bats?”

  Coach Miller growled, “Jalen, run to your position.”

  Get your head into the game, he told himself as he sprinted onto the field. Hit and field first, predict pitches second.

  Second base didn’t have the same impact on the game as pitcher, but it was in the middle of everything. Jalen snared the toss Gunner threw to him and threw the ball to Jake at third. Jake sent it to Damon at short, who sent it back to Jalen to complete an imaginary triple play.

  Jalen zipped it back to first and breathed in the scent of fresh-cut grass and baking dirt, waiting for Gertzy’s first pitch. The wind tugged at his cap. He looked at his mom in the stands. Her eyes were fixed on him, while George chatted with Mrs. H. He caught a pop fly, and when he looked back, he was sure his mom’s eyes hadn’t left him.

  He thought about the past few days. Every time he felt it was like a dream come true, like now, worry about telling his dad—and his dad’s reaction—swept through him like a wave, making him slightly nauseous.

  He shook his head like a dust mop. He had a game to play.

  60

  GERTZY WAS READY. THE WARM-UP balls in the field were rolled toward the dugout, and the first Lakeland batter approached the plate. Game on. Jalen crouched, hands on knees, and looked up at his mom. Her eyes were still on him.

  Jalen had just turned back toward the plate when the batter smashed a line drive toward the 3–4 hole. Jalen leaped into the air to cut it off. He stretched and dove, getting nothing but a dirt sandwich. He bounced to his feet. The runner passed him in a blur. Daniel fielded the ball on the bounce and sent it to Damon, who was covering second. The runner slid under Damon’s glove for a double.

  Jalen stamped his foot and kicked the dirt.

  Coach Allen clapped his hands and shouted, “Great effort, Jalen! Next one! Next time!”

  Jalen knew if he’d been paying better attention he would have gotten that one. It wasn’t his mom’s fault. It was his own. He mentally kicked himself in the pants one more time and zeroed in on the next batter.

  Gertzy sat him down with three pitches.

  The next batter rapped a grounder to first. Gunner snagged it and beat the batter to first for the second out. The runner now on third tormented Jalen. If he scored, that run would be squarely on Jalen no matter what Coach said.

  Jalen groaned as Biruk Royal marched to the plate with a big grin.

  Gertzy stiffened. As soon as Biruk stepped in, Gertzy wound up and let his fastball fly. Biruk’s swing was effortless. The bat rang and the ball was gone. Lakeland fans and players alike laughed and cheered as the giant kid took a tour of the bases. The score was now Bronxville 0, Lakeland 2.

  Gertzy unraveled quickly. Only seven pitches later, the bases were loaded. Jalen was unnerved and could feel the life draining from his team. If they didn’t end the inning soon, Jalen feared the contest would be all but over.

  Gertzy steadied himself and had a 1–2 count going when the batter connected. This time, Jalen was ready. The shallow pop fly lofted directly over his head. He backpedaled in high gear, calling for the ball. Behind him he heard Daniel also calling for it.

  Jalen knew it would be close, very close, but he knew he could get it. He knew, as the infielder, that his call should override Daniel’s. That was the how the game was played, and he knew that Daniel knew it as well. But he also knew his friend and could imagine the explanation he’d give about how easy the catch was for him and how Jalen should have trusted him. Still, Jalen insisted to himself that in the end Daniel would play right.

  “I got it! I got it! I got it!” Jalen hollered, flapping his arms in the air and waving Daniel off. He backpedaled hard.

  But Daniel kept coming, shouting as he ran. “I got it! I got it! I got it!”

  Right as Jalen jumped, reaching for the ball, snapping it from the air, Daniel crashed into him.

  Before he knew what was happening, Jalen was upended and slammed headfirst into the ground.

  61

  JALEN WAS STUNNED. HIS NECK ached, but he rolled into a sitting position with his glove raised instinctively. He had no idea whether he held the ball or a pocket full of empty. If the ball was there, he wanted to make sure the umpire saw it as well. So he reached up and found that sweet round lump in his glove before hooting and jumping to his feet.

  Only then did he notice Daniel sitting in the grass, rubbing his head. “Not cool, dude. That was total hot sauce. I had that thing, and I called you off.”

  Jalen offered Daniel a hand and pulled him to his feet. “You almost broke my neck.”

  “Well, you got it. I guess I can’t be too mad.” Daniel smiled, and they jogged back to the dugout together for the Bandits’ turn at bat.

  Everyone bumped knuckles with Jalen, congratulating him on the big-time catch.

  “Jalen, you okay?” Coach Allen asked.

  “Yeah, fine, Coach.”

  “That’s good. I don’t want anyone getting hurt. Now, tell me why you made such a bonehead play,” Coach Allen asked both of them.

  “I thought I could mak
e the catch,” Daniel said quietly.

  Coach Allen scowled, but not at Daniel. He was angry with Jalen.

  Jalen was thunderstruck. They locked eyes on each other until the coach asked Jalen, “What do you have to say for yourself?”

  “I’m the second baseman, Coach. It’s always my call on a pop fly behind second base. Those are the rules.”

  Coach Allen looked at the ground until he let out a long sigh.

  “Jalen, you have tremendous talent and desire and just about every attribute to make a very fine ballplayer. One thing you’re lacking, though, is obviously good coaching. I won’t say anything bad about Coach Gamble because I was never there, but let me tell you, there are rules of priority in fielding.”

  Jalen couldn’t figure out where Coach Allen was going, but he knew he shouldn’t interrupt to defend himself.

  “The second baseman always has priority over the first baseman. And you have priority over Daniel, your right fielder, unless he has an easier play on the ball. On a pop-up that a right outfielder can get, his call overrules any infielder—first baseman or second baseman. It’s easier to make a clean play running straight toward the ball than it is backpedaling with your head bouncing with every step you take. Do you see that, Jalen?”

  Jalen processed for a few agonizing seconds before agreeing.

  “When you put it that way… I guess I see it.”

  “So, it’s Jalen’s ball to catch until I call it for myself?” Daniel asked.

  “That’s it. But make sure that you can catch the ball before you call Jalen off. Understood?”

  They both nodded their agreement reluctantly.

  “Right now, we’re lucky you didn’t break each other’s necks. And we’re going to go over this in detail—for every position—at our next practice.”

  Lecture over, Coach Allen turned abruptly back to the dugout. “Okay, gentlemen, we’re two runs down,” he said to the whole team. “Let’s get them back… and then some.”

  Putting a hand on Jalen’s shoulder, Coach said, “Now remember, just like the speed hitter, you’ve got the timing. Go get the big prize. Think big and you can get us right back into this thing.”

  “You got it, Coach. Grand slam.”

  Coach Allen frowned. “Did you get dinged out there when you fell? There’s no one on base. You can’t hit a grand slam.”

  Jalen did a double take. “But Coach, you said—”

  Coach Allen tapped the bill of Jalen’s cap and smiled wide. “Kidding. Go get us on the board.”

  The coach turned his attention to Coach Miller, and the two of them began to talk.

  Cat bumped fists with Jalen. “Major league catch. Now launch one outta here!”

  Jalen gave her a wink just as Gertzy leaned into his ear and whispered, “You saved my tail feathers with that catch.”

  “You’ll be fine.” Jalen pulled on his batting gloves and took a helmet from a hook on the wall. “You’ve got a feel for them now.”

  Jalen left the dugout, rolling his neck. He watched Hardy’s last warm-up, a four-seam fastball, as he approached the plate. He circled the plate, took a big practice swing, and stepped in.

  Hardy’s dark brown eyes blazed at Jalen. He gave his catcher a nod, wound up, and let one fly. The pitch was a four-seamer, inside, maybe high. Jalen swung and connected, but too late and too low. He’d fouled it to the right of home. The next pitch was high outside. Jalen let it pass.

  The umpire paused before barking, “Ball.”

  The following pitch hit the same location, high and outside, so Jalen let it by again.

  “Strike!” cried the ump.

  Jalen’s back stiffened, and he choked down a protest as he stepped out of the box.

  He stepped back into the box and studied Hardy for signs of a changeup. He saw and felt nothing. The pitcher wound up and delivered his 1–2 pitch. It was right down the middle, and Jalen started his swing with joyful anticipation, only to realize the ball was coming in too slow and dropping. Afraid he’d miss and strike out, he adjusted his swing, dropping his bat head through the zone and barely nicking it to stay alive.

  He stepped back again. He needed to calm down and to see the grand slam in his mind. He took a swing, just as he’d swing the speed hitter. It felt like slipping on an old T-shirt, soft and familiar. Determined, he stepped to the plate and bore his eyes into the pitcher. Down came the ball from the mound with everything Hardy had.

  Jalen watched it come and took his swing.

  62

  IT FELT LIKE HIS BIRTHDAY. It felt like his first flip into Cat’s pool. It felt like smashing a bottle into a million pieces.

  It felt like a home run.

  Jalen slowed down as he approached second base, now certain that the ball was gone. The thin Bronxville crowd made some noise, and when he rounded second, he saw his mom. She was on her feet, cheering.

  Jalen floated over third and home plate. Daniel passed him on the way to the plate and bumped fists. Jalen gave his mom a wink and a smile before entering the dugout and being swarmed.

  Unfortunately, Jalen’s home run was the only run the Bandits scored, and it was the only hit the Bandits could get. Hardy threw a brilliant combination of well-located fastballs with the changeup sprinkled in to upset their timing, completely stupefying the Bronxville batters. Gertzy battled, but the Lakeland offense was a juggernaut. By the top of the fifth inning, thanks to good hitting by Lakeland and sloppy defense by Bronxville, the score was 7–1. The mood in the dugout made Jalen fear that the worst was yet to come.

  Gertzy started the fifth with a shot into right field that would have been a base hit against anyone but Lakeland, whose right fielder defied gravity to make the catch.

  Jalen was up next, and Coach Allen joined him in the on-deck circle. Coach looked at him with a grim face. “We need something, Jalen. We need it now.”

  The coach’s words only cranked up the pressure inside Jalen’s chest.

  “Okay, Coach.”

  Daniel, who was up next, smacked Jalen’s rump. “You got this, amigo.”

  That was when it clicked.

  Jalen dropped his bat in the on-deck circle and dragged Daniel with him back to the top step of the dugout. “Hey!”

  The defeated faces turned his way and he jabbed a thumb in his chest. “I got this guy. You hear me?”

  Jalen looked around at their faces. Some eyes shone with flickering embers of hope. Others looked past him, maybe with their thoughts already on the video games that filled their phones. “Listen. Guys, I know when he’s throwing that changeup. That’s all he’s got, and from now on, you’re all gonna know it. Wherever I am, you just watch me. If it’s his fastball, I’ll put up four fingers. If it’s his changeup, I’ll show you two thumbs-up.”

  Jalen didn’t have time to study their reaction to his claim. He turned, picked up his bat, and marched toward the plate, confident and eager. Hardy, the pitcher, looked smug.

  Jalen took a swing, then a deep breath, and stepped into the box.

  The first pitch was in the dirt, 1–0. The second was over Jalen’s head, 2–0. He tapped the plate with his bat and took an easy swing. It felt almost like Hardy was going for an intentional walk. Jalen looked steadily into his eyes and saw his displeasure. That’s what it was. The Lakeland coaches must have told Hardy to throw nothing but garbage at Jalen. If Jalen wanted to take wild swings at pitches out of the strike zone, he was welcome to. But he wasn’t going to see a pitch he could launch.

  With a 2–0 count, Jalen felt like he could take a chance. When the pitch came in low outside, he reached and got a piece of it, but it sailed well outside the first base line.

  “Take the base if he’s giving it away free, Jalen!” shouted Coach Allen, obviously angry.

  Jalen couldn’t say whether it was the way Hardy pulled back his shoulders or the grim shadow of disgust that passed over his face, but he knew Hardy was going to throw a strike and that it would be a changeup. Jalen bit back a grin and wigg
led his spikes into the dirt. He had that monster grand slam home run in the front of his mind.

  The pitch left Hardy’s hand and came in at just the speed Jalen expected. It had no bite, no drop. It was a real meatball. He stepped into it, and his wrists broke at the perfect moment, allowing his hips and legs to get behind it. The bat barked, and Jalen knew there was no need to hurry.

  Still, he was eager to get to the dugout and fire up his team, so he rounded the bases at a fast jog. After Jalen crossed home plate, he paused to encourage Daniel. “You got this guy, amigo. Two thumbs-up for that changeup, and it is a meatball.”

  “It was for you. I gotta see how it is for me,” Daniel said.

  They bumped fists and Jalen entered the dugout. “Come on, guys! Let’s rally!”

  They all burst into a cheer, even Coach Miller.

  Jalen turned his attention to the Lakeland pitcher. He held up four fingers to Daniel. After a strike and a ball, Daniel got the double thumbs-up from Jalen. Daniel ripped it over third base into the left field corner. He rounded first in a blur and slid safely into second, beating the throw easily. The Bronxville dugout went crazy.

  Jalen could see that even the doubters now believed.

  63

  THE BANDITS WENT ON THE attack.

  They alternated singles with outs and turned over the lineup.

  Then Gunner tried stretching a double into a triple. He was thrown out at third but still got a rib-eye for driving in a run that made the score 7–4.

  The Lakeland team, however, didn’t seem to take the comeback seriously, even after a scoreless home side where they left runners on second and third.

  In the Bandits dugout, Coach Allen addressed the team. “Guys, we are in this. It’s only three runs we need. This game is ours if we want it! Damon, you start another rally.”

  Coach looked over his shoulder at Hardy on the mound and looked back with a burning grin. “Remember, eyes on Jalen. I have a hard time believing that they’re going with the same pitcher, but that’s how arrogant they are. That’s how much they disrespect you guys! Now bring it in here for a win on three! One, two, three—”