Extra Innings (9 page)

It was the sixth inning now, and the Patriots were really pouring it on. “Please, no mercy rule!” Ronde muttered to himself, hoping the Eagles could avoid utter humiliation. “Catch it, Jimmy!”

For once Jimmy seemed to hear him. He made a nice catch, and the inning was finally over. “Good job, dude!”
he told poor Jimmy as he came back to the bench.

Jimmy didn't smile back. “Yeah, for once I didn't mess up.”

“Aw, come on now. You just need more experience is all. Look how fast you're improving!”

“Come on, Ronde,” Jimmy said glumly. “I'll never be as good as you.”

“Who says? And anyway, so what? There are plenty of guys I'll never be as good as. Just be the best you can be, Jimmy. Look, you're up this inning. Just forget everybody else around here, forget everything that's happened so far, and put the bat on the ball, okay? Finish the game strong.”

The kid nodded. “Yeah, okay. I get you.”

“You know I want to be back out there next game, but it might be you—so go up there and build for next time.”

“Yeah. I will. Thanks, man,” Jimmy said, grabbing his bat. “I appreciate that.”

“No prob. Go whack that ball!”

Jimmy smiled as he strode to the plate. With a quick, short swing he smacked the first pitch down the right field line for a double. Standing out there on second base, he waved to Ronde and gave him a thumbs-up.

Ronde applauded. “Atta baby, Jimmy!”

“There you go,” Tiki said, elbowing his twin. “I guess we can still help out, even if we can't go out and play.”

Ronde nodded, allowing himself a small smile of satisfaction. “Yeah,” he agreed. “But let's be honest, Tiki, if
we can't get out on the field pretty soon, this team's not making the play-offs.”

Tiki didn't answer, and Ronde knew his twin did not disagree.

• • •

“Well, boys,” Dr. Dreyer said, putting away his instruments, “I don't see anything alarming going on. You're both sure there are no symptoms?”

Ronde and Tiki both shook their heads.

“Well, then, just be careful,” he said. “Don't take any foolish chances out there. Any symptoms return, I want you to let me know immediately. Understood?”

“Yes, sir!” the boys said in unison.

“But, Doctor,” said their mom, “are you sure? I don't want anything else happening to them.”

“Mrs. Barber,” said Dr. Dreyer, “your boys love sports. They love
playing
sports. If they're willing to hold back just a little bit to preserve their health, I'm comfortable with them being on the field.

“Yesss!” both boys said under their breath. Their mother turned around and gave them a stern look.

“I hope you hear what the doctor is saying,” she warned them. “You don't take any chances. You don't ‘take one for the team.' You don't go diving after balls. You don't go stealing head-first. You understand me?”

“Yes, ma'am,” the boys said, nodding. And at that moment they meant it.

But Ronde wondered what would happen if he had to dive for a ball in the next game. If the Eagles' whole season was on the line, would he still remember his promise to his mother?

The boys had counted on
a raucous welcome when they returned for their next game with the Eagles. But they were taken aback when Coach Raines called them aside again, together this time, and gave them a stern lecture about always calling for the ball, and never assuming what the other fielder was going to do.

As if they needed the reminder! Tiki would never forget as long as he lived the sight of his brother, out cold, with the ball still in his outstretched glove.

Tiki and Ronde'd had lots of time to think about a whole bunch of things—about their approach at the plate, their positioning in the outfield, and most of all their team's dire situation.

The Eagles, after two losses when Tiki and Ronde had been sidelined, now stood at 3–4. There were five games left in the regular season, and
if
the Eagles won all their
remaining games, they
might
still make the play-offs. It was a long shot, but it was still a shot.

But once the game got under way, the time for thinking was over. The Barber boys were all business, and so were the rest of the Eagles.

In their rematch against the Blue Ridge Bears, Tiki and Ronde were on base constantly—stealing, faking steals, forcing repeated pickoff throws, and taking the extra base on every hit. The Bears' pitchers were so distracted by the two of them that they wound up throwing meatballs to Ian Lloyd and Michael Mason, who soon had eight RBIs between them. Meanwhile, John Benson was throwing well, giving up only two runs in his five innings of work.

So lopsided was the game that it was called on the mercy rule after six innings, with the Eagles ahead, 12–2. Although Tiki hit no home runs, the Bears never could get him out. And aside from one ground out, Ronde was on base every at bat.

It was sweet revenge for the Eagles, who'd lost to the Bears in their second game of the season. But Tiki, Ronde, and the rest were just getting on a roll.

• • •

Two games later things were looking a lot more interesting. The Eagles had now romped to three straight victories against weak opponents—Blue Ridge, Martinsville, and William Byrd.

With two games left in the regular season, there was renewed hope at Hidden Valley Junior High. There was still a way into the play-offs—a narrow, long-shot hope. If the East Side Mountaineers lost this week to the lowly Blue Ridge Bears, and
if
the Eagles beat the mighty North Side Rockets, they were in! If the Eagles lost, though, or if East Side won, their slim hopes would get even slimmer.

The best team so far in either division, the Rockets were leading the North Division with a 9–1 record. They had beaten the Eagles in their first game of the season, but by only one run.

We can beat these guys!
Tiki told himself as the Eagles got ready to take them on.

Dark clouds gathered in the sky, and the winds seemed to blow from every direction. “Think we'll get rained out?” Ronde asked him as they waited for the umps to signal the start of the game.

“I hope not. I'm psyched to go. Aren't you?”

“Uh-huh! We've gotta keep this roll going!”

“This is our day, dude,” said Tiki. “Let's hush that crowd up, yo!”

Tiki stepped to the plate, primed for action. He could feel the energy coursing through his arms, and he nearly launched himself at the first pitch, which looked as big as a grapefruit heading right over the plate—but the pitch was a changeup, and Tiki wound up dribbling
the ball right back to the pitcher for an easy out.

Tiki was disgusted with himself. Why had he forgotten everything Coach had told him? Why hadn't he waited and watched a pitch or two, to see what the guy was throwing?

He'd been too excited, too wound up, that's why. Tiki promised himself that, next at bat, he would stay totally calm and cool.

The Eagles went down in the first without a fight, as Lenny Klein and Chris Jones both popped to first base.

Luckily, Ian Lloyd was on his game, firing fastballs past three Rockets in a row for strikeouts.

The game stayed scoreless for three quick innings. Not a single Eagle reached first base. The Rockets threatened in the third but didn't score, leaving a man on third base when Tiki made a running catch of a windblown fly ball to right.

He ran back to the bench, traded his mitt for a bat and a helmet, and strode up to the plate, blowing out a deep breath. “Be calm. Stay loose. Wait for the pitch,” he whispered.

The first pitch came in—another changeup. Tiki let it go by for strike one.

“Now I'm ready,” he told himself. “Loaded for bear.” But the next pitch was inside, and he was handcuffed—unable to adjust to the pitch's location. He knew he must have looked foolish with the weak swing he took.

Regardless, he was still up there, still had one more chance.

But now he was thoroughly confused. Was the next pitch going to be a fastball or a changeup? He couldn't guess, so he decided to just be ready for the fastball, and adjust to the changeup if he could.

It was a changeup. Tiki held back for a second, then swung as hard as he could. He felt his eyes close as he did so, and he knew he should be keeping his eyes on the ball. But it all happened so fast—a split-second, really—that there was no correcting his mistake.

“Stee-rike three!” the umpire called.

Tiki slammed the bat on the ground. “Hey!” Coach Raines shouted to him as Tiki sat back down. “Come on, Tiki, none of that. No wasted energy. You don't have to hit the ball all the way to China. Just see the ball and hit it. You're trying too hard, kid. Just let the game come to you, okay?”

Tiki wasn't sure what the coach meant by that last remark, but he nodded like he understood. He didn't want anybody to think he was stupid or anything. He sat on the bench and watched as the rest of the Eagles continued to swing and miss.

The game stayed scoreless through six tense innings. Both teams switched pitchers after five, but it looked like John Benson and the Rockets' reliever were being just as tough as the guys they'd replaced.

Finally Ronde led off the top of the seventh with a clean base hit to left.

“Yesss!” Tiki cried from the on-deck circle. “You're the man, Ronde!”

Ronde stared back at him from first, then cocked his head to one side. Tiki knew what the signal meant. It meant Ronde was going to take off for second, and that Tiki should take a pitch to give him a chance to steal the base.

Tiki let a big, slow changeup bury itself in the dirt at the catcher's feet, while Ronde took second base without a throw.

It was the Eagles' biggest threat of the game so far. Tiki swatted the next fastball the other way—right at the first baseman. The ball glanced off his glove and trickled toward the second baseman. By the time he picked it up, Tiki was at first, and Ronde had slid safely into third!

Still nobody out—but not for long. Lenny Klein struck out for the third time in the game, and so did Chris Jones.

With two outs now, and Ian Lloyd at the plate, Tiki decided to take matters into his own hands. Ian had already struck out twice today, and hadn't looked good doing it. The Eagles needed to score—it was now or never.

On the first pitch to Ian, Tiki took off like a shot. Glancing toward home as he ran, he saw the catcher
spring to his feet and fire the ball toward second. Tiki knew his twin would use this chance to head home with the first run of the game.

The throw came in to second just as Tiki reached for the bag with his toe.

“SAFE!” the umpire yelled.

Tiki sprang to his feet and clapped his hands excitedly. It was 1–0, Eagles, on a two-out, two–Barber double steal!

Though Ian ended up striking out to end the inning, the Eagles entered the bottom of the seventh with that slim 1–0 lead. All they had to do was hold it—but something told Tiki it wasn't going to be so easy. . . .

Benson was throwing fireballs, and the first two hitters popped weakly to the infield. But then the Rockets' number three hitter looped a single in front of Michael Mason in left.

Then up came the cleanup hitter, and Tiki saw John Benson lick his lips nervously. “You got him, Johnny!” he shouted, but his voice was drowned out in the roar of the North Side crowd.

The count went to 2–0, but Tiki felt sure that the hitter was not looking to walk. He knew from recent experience that when you're a team's cleanup man, you want to knock that big run in yourself, not jog to first and leave it up to the next guy.

Tiki backed up a few steps in right, anticipating
trouble. He got it, all right—but not the kind he was looking for.

Benson threw a curve, and though the hitter swung for all he was worth, he didn't get good wood on the ball. It was a weak fly to shallow right center, and Tiki took off after it, remembering to yell “I got it!” over and over again.

At first it looked like he would get there in time. But just as he was closing in on it, he heard Ronde's voice over the roar of the crowd, shouting, “I got it! I got it!”

Tiki instantly pulled up short, thinking Ronde was about to crash into him again. Then, to his horror, he saw that his twin had done the very same thing!

The ball fell between them and skidded past into deep right center, where there was no one backing them up!

Tiki took off after it, and when he finally got to it, he threw it back in with all his might. But it was too late. Not only did the man on first score the tying run, but the hitter made it all the way around the bases for an inside-the-park homer, winning the game for North Side, 2–1!

Tiki sank to his knees in disbelief. Ronde came running up to him, saying, “You were calling for it! Why didn't you catch it?”

“Me?” Tiki shot back. “I heard you yelling, so I pulled up short!”

“But I heard you calling for it! That's why
I
stopped!”

Both boys sighed, realizing that their fear of another head-on collision had cost the Eagles a crucial game—and the team's best shot at the play-offs!

“Check this out,” said Tiki
, showing Ronde the standings printed in the
Roanoke Reporter
. “East Side lost to Blue Ridge!”

“No way!” Ronde took a look and saw that indeed their archrivals had fallen to the lowly Bears, who even after their surprise victory had a 3–8 record.

Looking at the overall standings, Ronde saw that the North Side Rockets had clinched first place in the North Division, with a 10–1 record. The rest of the teams in that division were out of the play-offs, including two teams that were 8–3, better records than the Eagles'.