Extra Innings (13 page)

The new guy was not overpowering. Ronde could tell from his warm-up throws. He wished he and Tiki were
about to get up to the plate against him. But those slow, tantalizing pitches seemed to mesmerize the Eagles' hitters. Lenny whiffed at two pitches before looking at a third strike. “What?” he complained when the ump called him out, but the ump just repeated, “Stee-rike three! Yer out!” and gave Lenny a look that said,
Don't argue with me.

“Come on, Jimmy!” Ronde yelled, cupping both hands to his mouth like a megaphone. Jimmy Krupkowski was a big kid, even if he was a seventh-grader. If anyone could tie this game with one swing of the bat, it was him.

But Jimmy's mighty swings caught only air. This pitcher wasn't so easy to hit after all, Ronde was realizing. There was a method to his madness, throwing up pitches that looked easy to hit, and making the Eagles hitters swing too hard, or too early. He went from slow, to slower, to slowest, and Jimmy went down in futility. He had swung three times—hard enough to drive a ball all the way to China—and hadn't hit a thing.

Now the Eagles were down to their last out, with Ian Lloyd at the plate. Ian was a powerful kid, and certainly had strength enough to hit a ball out. But he was far from fast. When he hit a ground ball to third, Ronde held his breath. And when the throw was true, and the first baseman had it in his mitt, Ronde let the breath out.

The final breath of ultimate defeat.

The Eagles had lost, 7–6. It was all over. All of it. The
season, their careers at Hidden Valley—everything.

Ronde couldn't believe it. It was like walking in a dream. The silent crowd sat stunned, as if there were still more baseball to be played.

Ronde looked for Tiki but couldn't find him at first. And then he saw his twin, leaning against the backstop, his glove dangling from his hand. Tiki looked like he'd just been hit with a brick.

When the ball settled into
the Rockets' first baseman's mitt, when it was finally over, it was as if the world stood still. Tiki went into a crouch, wrapped his head in both his arms, and felt it all hit him like the blast from an explosion.

There were cries of joy from the mound, where the small knot of Rockets players were celebrating their championship season. Otherwise the field and stands were quiet. Nobody said much. There wasn't much to say.

It was all over, Tiki thought. Everything. His and Ronde's dream of going out on a high note, a glorious exit from Hidden Valley Junior High . . . everything. Finals were over, sports were done for the year. A long, sad summer awaited them. Plenty of time to dwell on this bitter, final defeat.

In the locker room Coach Raines spoke to his disconsolate team. “I'm proud of you boys, each and every one of you,” he said, his voice full of emotion. “You battled, you came back from injuries and defeats, and you came within one run—one run!—of getting there. Sometimes the ball bounces into your mitt and you win the game, and sometimes, it takes a bad hop and you lose. I know that for most of you this is it for your careers here. I just want to say that it's been an honor and a pleasure to work with each and every one of you. And for those of you coming back, I just want to say, wait till next year.”

They all applauded, and as the applause was dying down, Ian said, “Let's hear it for the coaches!” and that got a big, hearty cheer.

Most of the kids seemed to lighten up a bit after that—except for poor John Benson, who'd been so great all season on the mound, only to cough up six runs when it mattered the most. John seemed inconsolable, sitting on the bench and staring at the floor with his elbows on his knees and his chin in his hands.

“Yo, Johnny,” Tiki said, sitting down next to him and putting an arm around his shoulders. “Not your fault, man. We lost this as a team.”

“We did not,” John muttered, not looking up. “It was me. That's all there is to say.”

“No, man!” Tiki argued. “Remember when Ronde and I messed up that fly ball? If that had been today instead
of a couple games ago, you could have said the same about us! We got here as a team, and we fell short as a team.”

John looked up at Tiki now and nodded slowly. “Yeah, I guess that's true.” He sighed. “But why today? Why did I have to mess up in the biggest game of my life?”

“Hey, every game's got a winner and a loser. It was just our turn to be the losers today. It's not the end of the world, yo.”

And as he said it, Tiki realized for the first time that day that it was true. It wasn't the end of the world—only the end of their time at Hidden Valley Junior High.

Later, when most of the players had already left, and as Tiki and Ronde were stuffing team equipment into duffel bags, delaying their inevitable final exit, Coach Raines came over to them.

“I just want to say, to you two boys in particular, how much I've enjoyed coaching you,” he said. “You gave this team the best chance it's had in five years to win a championship. We would never have made the play-off without you.”

“Hey, we were just doing our part,” Tiki said. “Everybody had a part in it.”

“I also appreciate the leadership, and the attitude you brought to the clubhouse. You showed these kids there's no
I
in ‘team.' ”

“Thanks, Coach,” Ronde said.

“I see a bright future for the two of you,” the coach added. “Don't ever change the way you go about your business. You're real winners, and I mean that sincerely.”

They shook hands with him, and the twins slowly made their way back onto the field, for one last look before leaving.

Jason Rossini was waiting for them. “Hey, I thought you'd never come out of that locker room!” he said, a bit too cheerfully. “How does it feel to come out on the short end for once?”

That stung Tiki, and he felt like saying something mean right back, but he held his tongue, and so did Ronde.

Finally, as Jason kept at it, Tiki found the words he'd been looking for. “You know what?” he said. “I'm not sorry we went out for baseball, not for one second. It was all worth it, the winning and the losing. We had a great team, and we went into battle together. I'm glad you came home with a trophy, Jase, but we've already got a couple of those. This time we had a chance to play baseball, something we've always wanted to do but never got to. We might never get to again either. So it was definitely worth it, even though we didn't come out on top.”

“And we made some new friends, too,” Ronde chimed in. “Like Johnny B. and Jimmy the K. You make any new friends in track, Jason?”

“Aah, you're just looking for silver linings, the two of
you,” said Jason. “See you over the summer, huh? Tell you what? We can have a race of our own. Me against the two of you!”

“You're on, yo!” Ronde called after him. “We'll leave you in our dust!”

“Ha!” Tiki laughed, appreciating Ronde's pride in their speed, and in the way they lived their lives.

• • •

Still, as the school year ended and the long summer days yawned ahead of them, both boys started to get down in the dumps. And then, one day in late June, they were walking past the high school when they heard a familiar voice calling their names.

“Hey, Ronde! Tiki!”

“Coach Spangler!” they cried out in unison, recognizing their old coach as he came walking toward them.

“Hey, boys, how's it been going?” he asked, shaking their hands and clapping them on the shoulders. Coach “Spanky” Spangler had been coach of the football Eagles when the Barber twins had first arrived at Hidden Valley. Under his guidance they'd improved a lot as players, even though, as seventh graders, they hadn't seen much game action. Later, though, after Spangler had moved on to coach at Hidden Valley High, they'd gotten to know one another better. The coach had followed their football careers as they'd led the Eagles to two straight state championships.

“I saw the baseball play-off,” he told them, surprising both Tiki and Ronde.

“You were there?” Ronde groaned. “Oh, man, that was a terrible day.”

“Not at all!” Spangler disagreed. “You guys played a heck of a game. That other team had an 11–1 record going in, you know. You guys were underdogs from the start.”

“I guess,” Tiki said. “Still, it didn't feel very good to lose.”

“Of course not!” Spangler said. “You wouldn't want losing to feel good, would you? That's what gives you the urge to win! So, listen. I've been thinking of giving you guys a call.”

“Us?” Ronde said, surprised.

“Yeah. You know I've got freshman slots for you on the team.”

“You mean we're going to be starters?”

“Well, I don't know about that, but you're gonna be in there every game, playing significant minutes, even as freshmen.”

“Wow!” Tiki said excitedly. He'd been expecting to ride the bench, like in seventh grade. It was what the new guys on the team always had to do.

“You've shown enough talent these past three years to deserve a starting spot, but of course the seniors have to get those spots, at least at the beginning of the season.
But never mind. You're going to play a lot, boys. And I want you to be ready. So this summer I was thinking it might be good to have you come in two or three days a week and work out with some of the starters. In fact, Matt Clayton's going to be there too. He's taking over at QB this year, so you guys can get reacquainted.”

“Matt Clayton!” Ronde repeated.

Matt had been their first friend on the Eagles when they'd arrived as seventh graders. He'd been the star quarterback back then, and he'd made sure the Barbers were accepted by the regulars on the team. Because of him they'd made friends with everyone else right away, and felt like part of the team, even though they hadn't been getting to play much.

“He's excited to be working with you guys again. He told me to tell you to bring your A game with you.”

“No problem!” Tiki said.

“So, you're up for being part of it?”

“Sure thing!” Ronde said.

“And how!” Tiki agreed.

“Great. We start on Monday. Be there at ten a.m., okay?”

“You got it, Coach!”

Tiki and Ronde turned to each other and exchanged their secret handshake. “Yesss!” Tiki said. “This is going to be awesome!”

“I can't wait for Monday!” Ronde said, his grin stretching from ear to ear.

All thoughts of their defeat on the baseball diamond flew from their heads. After all, football was, and always would be, their first love. And based on what Coach Spangler had said, their football future was as bright as could be.

Their ultimate dream, of playing in the NFL, was still alive and well. In fact, their dream was better than ever, because by playing other sports, like basketball and baseball, they'd learned a ton about things like leadership and teamwork.

“Man,” Tiki said, feeling the glow of excitement fill him from head to toe. “I can't wait for September!”

“Me too!” Ronde agreed. “Look out, Hidden Valley High School, 'cause here we come!”

Ball:
A ball is called when the pitcher throws a pitch out of the strike zone and it is not swung at by the batter.

Bunt:
This is an offensive play where the batter intentionally taps the ball to the infield. A pitch is usually bunted when the batters goal is to get on base or advance another runner into scoring position.

Double play:
This is a defensive act in which two offensive outs are played one right after the other in one continuous action.

Fly ball:
Also known as a pop-up, this is a ball that is hit high into the air.

Grand slam:
A play in which the batter, while having men on first, second, and third base, hits a home run to bring in a total of four runs.

Ground ball:
A ball that is hit and skips close to the ground.

Home run:
A play in which the batter can make it around the bases and back home without being called out. This can be either an out-of-the-park home run or an inside-the-park home run.

Line drive:
A ball that is batted in the air but not high off the ground.

Pinch hitter/runner:
An instance where a substitute hitter or runner replaces one of the players in the game. Pinch hitters or runners usually replace the existing player because the coach believes the substitute has a better chance at scoring.

Stolen base:
This is a play where a runner on one base successfully advances to the next without the batter hitting the ball or getting walked. A base is usually stolen to place runners in scoring position.

Walk:
A batter is walked when four balls are called. Sometimes batters are intentionally walked when the pitcher feels he has a better chance at getting the next batter out.

Wild pitch:
A ball that is pitched too high, too low, or too off to either side of the strike zone to be controlled by the catcher.