Long Stretch At First Base (3 page)

“I’ll call him Manty,” he said half aloud.

Bobby grinned happily as he looked at
the other things he had collected. Spiders, grasshoppers, crickets, walking sticks, butterflies, and a little toad no bigger
than his thumb. He had ants, too. They were in a glass ant-house he had made with his dad’s help.

Ann and Kirby thought that he was crazy collecting stuff like that, but he would rather do that than play baseball. He was
a Cub Scout, and collecting insects was his favorite hobby. He had fun watching the insects move around and eat and do things
with the dirt and leaves he had put with them.

Ann came down the steps. She sat on a chair in front of an old desk. She was wearing dungarees. A rubber band held her blond
hair up in a pony tail.

“Kirby wants you to play baseball with him,” she said.

Bobby frowned. “Now? I don’t want to play now.”

“I told him the ground must be wet. But he said it isn’t.”

Bobby looked at her. “I wish Kirby wasn’t so crazy about baseball. It’s a wonder he practices his saxophone lessons.”

“How about you?” said Ann. “You’re crazy about those grasshoppers and walking sticks and some of those other awful-looking
things. If you ask me, I think baseball is a lot more fun than
that.”

“Not me,” said Bobby. He leaned over and peered at the little toad. He tapped the glass softly and grinned. “Hi, Toady,” he
said.

Ann made a face. “He’s cute now. But wait till he grows up!”

Bobby laughed.

Somebody pounded on the basement
door that led outside. Bobby looked and recognized Kirby through the glass window. “Bobby! Are you coming?”

Bobby started to say no, but Ann interrupted him. “Why don’t you go, Bobby? He loves to have you play. He’s bigger and older,
but he knows that you can hit better than he can.”

Bobby rolled the words around in his mind. “Isn’t it funny about Kirby, Ann? Isn’t it funny how he can hardly hit?”

Ann shrugged. “I guess so. Go on. He’s waiting for you.”

“Okay.” He yelled to Kirby that he’d be right out. Then he took one last look at the terrarium, went upstairs and got his
glove.

Kirby and Bobby walked to the field. They had to walk down the macadam road a short distance to get to it. The regular
baseball diamond was in the opposite direction. It was beyond the creek, about a mile and a half away.

Terry tagged along at their heels. Ann went, too. She had Kirby’s old glove. Kirby had a brand-new first-base mitt. It was
made differently than Tony Mandos’s mitt. Tony’s had a large leather web between the thumb and first finger.

Several boys were already at the field: Dave Gessini with his catcher’s equipment, Al Dakin, Jerry Echols, and Bert Chase.
Al and Bert had their younger brothers there. They were in the outfield, chasing fly balls.

“Hi!” Jerry greeted. “Been waiting for you!”

“Let’s choose up sides,” suggested Kirby. “There’s enough of us here.”

“Okay,” said Dave.

There were ten players altogether, including Ann. She didn’t seem to care that she was the only girl. Sometimes Dave’s sister
Mary and Bert’s sister Jean would come to the field and play also, because Ann did. But they weren’t here today.

Kirby and Dave were asked to be captains. They chose up sides. Dave had first choice. He picked Bobby. Ann was chosen before
the two youngest boys because she was a good player, better than some of the boys. She got on Kirby’s team. She seemed glad
because she walked quickly to Kirby’s side and smiled happily at him.

Bobby grinned. He didn’t really care whose team he was on. This was for fun, anyway.

Kirby’s team took last raps. Dave told his players what positions to play and in what order they were to bat. The scrub
game started. The kids in the field shouted to their pitcher. “Come on, Jerry! Strike ’em out, kid! Throw ’em in there, Jerry!”

Bobby was second batter. He picked up a bat. While he waited for his turn to hit Dave came over to him.

“Did you hear that Tony might be the player picked on the All-Star team that’s going to Cooperstown?” he said. “Someone told
me that the men who are picking the All-Stars have been looking us over.”

Bobby stared. “Tony Mandos?”

“Yep. That’s what everybody’s been saying. He’s the best in the league, everybody says.”

Bobby looked across the field at his brother Kirby. Kirby was standing with his hands on his knees near first base. He was
yelling as if this was a real Grasshoppers League ball game.

“He’s not better than Kirby,” said Bobby seriously. “Kirby can play circles around him.”

“Oh, go on, Bobby. Kirby can’t hit the broad side of a barn.”

Bobby flushed. “But he can field,” he said. “And nobody can catch those pegs at first better than he can. And, anyway, they
aren’t going to choose the players yet.”

Dave shrugged. “I’m just saying what I heard,” he said.

Crack!
The sound of bat meeting ball caught Bobby’s attention. He saw the white pill fall behind second. Ann chased after it. She
picked it up on a hop and pegged it to second base. The second baseman caught it easily.

“Nice throw, Ann!” Jerry yelled.

Bobby stepped to the plate. He hit the
first pitch over short, a clothesline drive to the outfield. Bobby circled the bases for a home run.

He didn’t enjoy hitting that homer very much, though. After all, there were only two players in the outfield.

After a while there were three outs and Kirby’s team came to bat.

Because there weren’t enough players on each team, one of the rules was that a ball hit on the ground in the infield was an
out.

The first two players grounded out. Kirby walked to the plate, and Bobby wished he would hit the ball. It wasn’t important
that Kirby was playing on the opposite team. What was important —
really
important — was for Kirby to learn to
hit the ball.

Kirby doesn’t know about an All-Star
team going to Cooperstown, thought Bobby. He doesn’t know that Tony Mandos, the other first baseman for the Redbirds, will
most likely go. There were a lot of guys who thought that Tony was the best first baseman in the league. Except Bobby. He’d
take Kirby any day.

Kirby let a pitch go by. Then he swung hard at a pitch and missed.

“Don’t try to kill it,” said Jerry.

Another pitch came in. Kirby swung easier.
Crack!
The ball sailed over the right fielder’s head!

Bobby almost jumped with joy. What a drive! It went for a home run. It would have been a home run even in a real game.

The next time up Kirby knocked out another long drive. The ball didn’t travel as far as the first one did. But almost.

“I just swung easy!” Kirby kept saying
to Bobby and Ann after the game. “Maybe that’s the secret!”

He had never been so happy in his life.

Bobby’s heart swelled with pride. He told Kirby what Dave had told him, that an All-Star team was going to Cooperstown. And
that everybody thought that Tony Mandos might be picked to go.

A cloud came over Kirby’s face.

“Tony’s good,” he said. “Maybe he is the best in the league.”

Bobby looked at Kirby, and then at Ann. His lips quivered.

Suddenly he cried out, “That’s not true, Kirby! You’re better than Tony is! Much better! You’ll beat him out! Just wait and
see!”

O
N FRIDAY the Redbirds played the Seals.

The first inning went scoreless for both teams. In the second inning Dave Gessini singled through short. Mark Donahue fanned.
Jerry Echols hit a long fly to left that was caught for the second out.

Kirby came to bat. He swung easy at the first pitch. Missed. He let a strike go by, then a ball. Then he swung easy again,
and struck out.

Bobby watched Kirby trot, head bowed in shame, toward first base. Don’t give up, Kirby! the cry went through Bobby’s mind.
You’ll beat out Tony! You will!

The Seals got a man on in their bottom
half of the second inning. A sacrifice bunt put him on second.

Cappie became nervous again. He stepped off the mound, picked up some dirt in his hand, and dropped it. He nodded at the signal
from Dave Gessini, stretched, and delivered.

“Ball one!”

“Ball two!”

At short, Bobby shook his head. Cap-pie never seemed to pitch very well when the pressure was on.

Cappie put over a strike, then threw two more balls, giving the batter a free ticket to first. Now there were two men on and
one away.

Crack!
The ball sailed over second for a double, driving in the two runners. The next Seal hitter socked a hard, bouncing grounder
between short and third. It
looked sure to be a hit. The runner on second made a beeline for third.

Third baseman Mark Donahue plunged after the ball. He couldn’t quite reach it. Bobby raced back beyond the edge of the dirt
and onto the grass. He ran as hard as he could, his eyes on the high-hopping ball. Just as the ball started to bounce past
him he stuck out his gloved hand, and
caught the ball.
He stopped, and heaved the ball to first.

Bobby saw his peg going wide. Kirby would never reach that ball. Never.

But Kirby stretched his long legs, the point of his toe touching the edge of the bag. His right arm reached far out. A split
second later the ball struck the pocket of his mitt and stuck there as if glued.

The crowd cheered. Horns tooted. And Bobby’s heart went back where it belonged.

Boy! Only Kirby could catch a wild peg like that!

That play must have helped Cappie’s nerves, because he struck the next man out.

Cappie led off in the top of the third. He poled a long fly to center field. He was almost on first base before the ball came
down. A sad groan broke from the throats of the Redbirds fans as the fielder made the catch.

Bobby came up and did something he had never done before. He hit four foul tips in a row to the backstop screen. He stepped
away from the plate and grinned.

The people laughed and yelled at him to “Straighten one out!”

Then whiff! Bobby went down swinging!

He shook his head and smiled as he
carried the bat to the rack. Well, a guy had to strike out sometime. Even the clean-up men on major league teams struck out,
didn’t they?

Coach Barrows put in Bert Chase to pinch-hit for Al Dakin. Bert knocked out a single. Toby blasted a grounder to short which
struck the shortstop’s left foot and bounced high into the air. Bert made it safely to second, and Toby to first. The scorekeeper
counted it as a hit, a ball “too hot to handle.”

Bobby relaxed back in the dugout. He crossed his arms and watched Jim Hurwitz go to the plate. The Redbirds had a chance now
to score a run or more. Jim was their clean-up hitter. He was big and could hit a ball farther than anybody else on the team.
The Seals were leading, 2–0.
A home run would put the Redbirds ahead, 3-2. But even one run would help.

Jim swung two bats back and forth across his shoulders. He finally tossed one back to Dickie Jacobs, the mascot, then stepped
into the batter’s box.

Sam Wood, the red-headed southpaw for the Seals, was very careful with his pitches to Jim. He must have tried hard to cut
the corners with his first three pitches. But he missed each time for a count of three balls. Then he threw one down the middle,
and Jim swung.

Crack!
The ball sailed out to left field. It curved over the fielder’s head, struck the fence and bounced back. The fielder picked
it up and pegged it in.

Both runners scored, and Jim stopped on third for a triple. With the score tied,
Dave Gessini came up. He hit a hot grounder down the third-base line which went foul by inches. Then Wood threw three balls
in succession, making the count three and one.

“Wait ’em out!” yelled Coach Barrows. He paced back and forth.

Dave let the next pitch go by.

“Strike two!”

“Okay! If it’s in there, hit it!”

Wood took his time with the next pitch. This was the one that counted. If it was outside the strike zone, Dave would walk.
If it was over, Dave might whack it and knock in another run.