Look Who's Playing First Base (4 page)

A pop fly to short ended the top of the first inning. Dick Wallace started off with a walk. Mike laid down a sacrifice bunt,
advancing Dick to second. Then Hank Rush singled to right, scoring Dick. The ball was pegged in to second base, holding Hank
on first.

Tom Milligan cut at the first two pitches, then fouled off two. The Jetstars’ Ike Pierce couldn’t get the next three over
and Tom was faced with a three-two count. Ike grooved the next pitch and Tom belted it for a single over short. Hank raced
around to third.

Two on. One out.

Bunker swung hard at a low pitch and drove the ball sky-high. The third baseman caught it for out two.

Then Yuri came up and Mike heard Don say, “Here we go. Another out.”

The hair on Mike’s neck bristled.
Darn you, Don
. You
just don’t want to give him a chance
.

Yuri took a hard swing at the pitch and fouled it off to the right field bleachers.
Come on, Yuri
, Mike pleaded silently.
Make Don eat his words
.

Strike two. Another foul.

Ball!

Another hard swing. This time Yuri didn’t even tick the ball. Strike three.

“There you go,” said Don. “What did I tell you?”

Mike glared at him. “That was just his first time up, dope. He’s coming up again.”

“Oh, sure,” Don snorted. “And he’ll whiff again, too.”

The Checkmates held the Jetstars scoreless in the top of the second, and picked
up their second run during their turn at bat. With one out Don had singled and gone to second on a sacrifice fly to deep right
field, then had scored on Dick’s double.

The Jetstars’ lead-off man in the third popped a high fly just inside the first-base line. Yuri got under it and stood waiting
for it while the crowd watched silently. Even Mike held his breath. Then the ball hit Yuri’s glove — and bounced out.

Mike groaned, looked at Gary then at Don. It was Don who worried him more than anyone else. He almost expected the catcher
to throw off his mask, chest protector and shin guards then and there.

Yuri picked up the ball, waited for Gary to turn around, then tossed it to him. “I’m sorry, Gary,” he said.

Gary struck out the next batter, then
walked the following two men, filling the bases. Mike called time and trotted to the mound. “You okay, Gare?” he asked.

“Oh, sure,” grumbled Gary, kicking the soft dirt. “I feel great.”

“Shake it off. We can’t win if you stay sore, Gary.”

“I’ll be okay.”

A hard belt to left center field! One run scored! Two runs scored!

Tom Milligan pegged the ball in to third. Bunker caught it. He took a few paces toward the mound and tossed it to Gary. “Not
your fault, Gary,” he said.

A strikeout and a grounder ended the inning.

The Checkmates came back hot as fire. Hank doubled on the second pitch, then Tom Milligan did what every Checkmate fan hoped
he would do. He knocked one
that just cleared the left field fence for a home run. Bunker walked and the fans yelled for Yuri to keep it going.

“Ha!” Mike heard a snort. He didn’t have to look to know where it had come from.

Please, Yuri
, he pleaded.
Lambaste that ball. For me
.

The pitch. Yuri swung and missed. “Strike one,” muttered Don.

The second pitch came in. “Strike two,” Don muttered again. But he said it before Yuri swung.
Crack!
Yuri’s bat met the ball solidly, driving it out like a little white pill and up into the sky where, it seemed, it was going
to be swallowed by a cloud. Then it curved and started to drop fast, so far out that Mike was sure it would never be found
again. It cleared the fence for a home run — the longest home run Mike had ever seen hit on this baseball field.

The Checkmate fans roared, and Mike jumped up and shouted, “That-a-boy, Yuri! I knew you could do it! I knew it!”

Don Waner had nothing to say.

Dave Alberti singled, and time was called while the Jetstar coach and a couple of his infielders walked up to their pitcher
to offer him some voice support. For a minute Mike thought that the coach was going to send Ike Pierce to the showers, but
he didn’t. Ike stayed in and the fans cheered.

Don was the next batter.
Now let’s see what
you
can do, Mr. Big Shot
, thought Mike. Ike didn’t pitch Don anything good. He didn’t pitch him anything bad, either. Don went the full count, three
and two.

He stepped away from the plate, hitched up his pants and stepped into the box again. Ike’s pitch came in, slightly high. Don
belted it.

A long drive to left! Don dropped his bat and tore for first. When he was almost there the first-base coach raised his hands
and shook his head. The fielder had caught the ball. Without looking toward the outfield Don trotted back to the dugout.

Both Gary and Dick made outs, too.

But the Checkmate fans were applauding them, and Coach Bob Terko looked pleased. “Nice going, boys. Let’s hang on to that
lead.”

The score was 6 to 2, Checkmates’ favor.

The first Jetstar batter singled. He then took a lead off first which, thought Mike,
was just too much. The guy didn’t intend to steal, did he? Not with the Jetstars trailing by four runs?

The pitch came in. “Ball!”

The runner didn’t steal. But Mike saw that he was taking his sweet old time returning to the base. He hoped that Don wouldn’t
be caught napping and let the man steal.

“Strike!”

The instant Don caught the ball he rose from his crouched position and whipped it hard to first. Yuri stretched wide, caught
it and reached out to tag the runner. Instead, the runner bolted for second. Yuri chased after him, then tossed the ball to
Mike. Mike chased the runner back toward first, then tossed to Yuri. Again Yuri went after him, and again he threw the ball
to Mike.

This time he threw it wild. The ball struck the runner on his head, dropped to the ground, and the Jetstar ran safely to second.

Mike’s temper exploded. “Yuri! Why’d you do that for? We had ’im in the bag!”

Yuri just looked at him, his eyes still as glass.

T
HE JETSTAR
batter was husky, broad-shouldered, and kept twirling his bat around and around slowly, his eyes watching Gary like a cat’s.

Mike looked across at Yuri, feeling the anger slowly slipping away from him. He and Yuri could have made an easy out if Yuri
had had better control of the ball.

I don’t know
, he thought.
Just when I think he’s getting better he pulls a dumb play
.

Gary stretched and delivered. The ball
grazed the inside corner of the plate. The batter started to swing, then changed his mind. Strike one.

Gary’s second pitch was knee-high and almost dead center over the plate. The batter swung and the ball shot out to right center
for a clean hit. The runner on second scored and the batter raced to second base on the throw-in to home.

That was it for the Jetstars that half inning.

Mike was wiping his brow with a handkerchief in the dugout when Yuri plunked down beside him.

“Gary said I could have caught up with that boy and tagged him out,” he said.

Mike shrugged. “Maybe you could have and maybe you couldn’t. But if you had thrown the ball straight … Aw, forget it. Don’t
sweat it.”

“Oh, sure. It could be that easy for you. But it isn’t for me.”

Mike looked at him. Yuri was holding his cap on his lap. Beads of sweat covered his forehead and his black hair was matted
down. But it was his sad, pale eyes that showed how he really felt.

“This is only our second game,” said Mike softly. “Stick in there and don’t worry about what somebody else says. It’s what
Coach Terko says that’s important. Okay?”

Yuri smiled. “Okay.”

“Mike, you’re first batter,” piped up Coach Terko. “Don, coach at third.”

The boys hopped out of the dugout. Mike slapped on a helmet, picked up a bat and hurried to the plate. He socked the second
pitch for a line drive through short
for a single. Cy Williams, pinch-hitting for Hank Rush, poked the first pitch in a looping fly behind short. It looked like
a hit, but the Jetstar shortstop raced back and caught the ball over his shoulder.

The Jetstar fans gave him a big hand.

Mike ran back to first. Tom Milligan then drilled the ball through the hole between first and second and Mike raced around
to third.

Bunker Ford, up next, popped the first pitch to the catcher. He dropped it! Bunker fouled off another pitch for strike two,
then waited out the pitches for a three-two count. Ike Pierce grooved one belt-high and Bunker lined it out to short center
field. The fielder sprinted after it, caught it and pegged it in, holding both runners on their bases.

Mike waited for Yuri to bat, but Coach Terko was talking to him. What was he going to do have someone pinch-hit for Yuri?
Then Yuri walked to the plate, swinging his bat back and forth.

“Cork another one over the fence, Yuri!” shouted Mike.

“Oh, come on, Mike,” grunted Don, standing in the coaching box. “Twice in one game? Aren’t you asking for too much? That first
homer was just lucky.”

“Lucky? You still don’t think he’s a good sticker, do you?”

“He hits like he fields,” said Don. “Now and then he catches a grounder or a fly. Now and then he pops a homer.”

“
Pops
a homer?” Mike’s forehead creased. He pointed to right field. “You call that long blast popping a homer?”

Don shrugged. “Like I said, he was lucky.”

“Oh, man,” said Mike. “You sure cut the cake, Don. You sure do.”

Yuri swung at the first pitch and missed. He took two balls. Then
crack!
Another real long clout to deep right! Everybody on the bench jumped out and watched it. Everybody in the stands and the
bleachers just sat silently and stared as if something had happened to their voices. The blast was almost like the first one,
heading like a rocket for the clouds and then dropping fast and landing far on the other side of the right field fence.

And then came the explosion. The yell from the crowd, from the Checkmates. Mike clapped his hands so hard they hurt. He turned
to Don and saw him looking at his shoes. Mike smiled. For a while, at least, Don won’t be threatening to quit. He didn’t have a good reason to, now.

Dave Alberti struck out. Checkmates 9, Jetstars 3.

The Jetstar lead-off man blasted Gary’s first pitch for a double, and the hit seemed to start them off for something good.
The next Jetstar clouted a pitch to right center, driving in a run.

Then Gary couldn’t seem to find the plate and walked two men in a row. Don called time, trotted out to the mound and talked
to Gary for a few seconds. Gary was sweating as if someone had poured a bottle of water over him.

The talk did little good, if any. The batter drove a long fly to left field. It was caught, but a man ran in for the Jetstars’
second run of the inning. Then Dick Wallace
snapped up a hard hit grounder, fired it to Mike at second, and Mike rifled it to first. A double play. Three outs.

Don led off in the bottom of the fifth. He spat on his hands, rubbed the bat and then faced the pitcher as if he were going
to blast the ball even farther than Yuri did. The pitch came in. Don swung, and if his bat had connected squarely with the
ball his wish might have been granted. But the bat struck the top of the ball, resulting in a hopping grounder through short
for a single.

Next came Gary. He waited out the pitches, then popped a fly to third. Dick Wallace fouled two pitches before striking out.

Two outs and Don was still on first. Mike got up and poled a long foul past the
left field bleachers, then straightened one out for a double, scoring Don.

The Checkmate fans were still cheering Mike’s drive when Cy Williams corked the first pitch for a long triple, a blow to left
center, scoring Mike.

It was a blow to Ike Pierce, too. His coach sent him to the showers and put in another pitcher, a tall right-hander with glasses.
He faced Tom Milligan and that was it. Tom hit to center field for the third out.