Shortstop from Tokyo (6 page)

Dennis Krupa fouled the first two pitches, then blasted a high fly to left. The Rainbow left fielder caught it. Fuzzy Caliel
went after a high pitch for strike one, then slammed a low one in a crazy, sizzling grounder to Fats. Fats dropped to his
knees, trapped the ball between his fat legs, and threw Fuzzy out.

Three away. No runs, no hits, no errors.

And still no Sam.

T
HE RAINBOW lead-off hitter socked a belt-high pitch directly back at Tom Rolf. Tom caught it and stared at the ball in the
pocket of his glove as if he were surprised he had it. He tossed it to first and the ball zipped around the horn.

“Two more, Tom!” Bob Sobus hollered. “Let’s get two more!”

The second Rainbow hitter blasted Tom’s first pitch to right center for two bases. Then a grass-cutting grounder zipped down
to short. Dennis fielded it
and threw it wild to first. A run scored and the hitter trotted to second.

Stogie kicked a pebble, then picked it up and threw it beyond the foul line. It was only the top of the second inning and
he could already foresee the end of the ball game. The Rainbows were going to smear the Mohawks but good.

The next batter socked a high-bouncing grounder to third. Fuzzy snared it and whipped it to first. Out! Bob Sobus shifted
his position to peg to third, but the runner stayed glued on second.

A hard blow over Tom’s head scored the Rainbows’ second run. He struck out the next man to retire the side. Rainbows 3, Mohawks
0.

“Start it off, Stogie,” encouraged Coach Dirkus. “Get a hit.”

Fats Cornell wound up and breezed a
pitch past Stogie’s ear. Stogie reared back. “Ball!” yelled the ump.

Fats’s second pitch cut the outside corner. “Steeerike!”

Fats’s third started to cut the center of the plate and Stogie swung.
Crack
! The ball zoomed out to left center. Stogie lost his helmet as he rounded first. The helmet bounced on the base path and
stopped near the grass about the same time that Stogie stopped at second base.

Time was called and Stogie got his helmet.

Bob Sobus, after fouling two pitches, grounded out to short. Bernie went the limit, three balls and two strikes, then struck
out. The Rainbows chattered like crazy and Stogie wondered if he’d die on second.

Tony Francis blasted the first pitch
through short and the coach at third wind-milled Stogie in. The Rainbow shortstop took the throw-in from left and pegged it
in to home, but Stogie was already there. Tony advanced to second on the play.

Tom Rolf stepped to the plate and waited out Fats Cornell’s pitches to a two-and-two count. Then he popped one high to first
base for the third out.

“Well, we’ve broken the ice, anyway,” said the coach. “Now go and get ’em out.”

The Rainbow lead-off man singled on the first pitch. The next drove a hot grounder to second. Stogie crouched to pick it up
and missed the hop. The ball struck his left knee and glanced behind first. Bob Sobus hightailed after it, picked it up and
hurled it to third to get the first runner heading there from second. The throw was too high! The runner rounded third and scored, and the second runner stopped on second base.

Nice
! Stogie muttered to himself.
Sobus and I are both playing a nice game — for the Rainbows
!

The Rainbows didn’t stop there. They scored twice more before the Mohawks could get them out. At the end of the top of the
third inning the scoreboard read, Rainbows 6, Mohawks 1.

“They’re burying us,” said Fuzzy as he plunked himself on the bench. “We’re just not playing baseball.”

“Get hold of yourselves,” Coach Dirkus said firmly to the team. “Keep loose out there and keep your heads up. You’re not thinking.
Think ahead every minute. Say to yourself, ‘What’ll I do if the ball’s hit to
me?’ Have that answer in your head and you won’t get mixed up when the ball does come to you. The old fight, now. Let’s go!”

If Jim Albanese had any of the old fight in him before, he didn’t have it now. He popped the second pitch to short. Lee Cragg
put some life into the team with a single through short, but Dennis struck out and Fuzzy grounded out to second.

“I hardly got to sit down!” grunted Bernie, running across the diamond with Stogie.

“I’m up first next inning,” said Stogie. “It’ll be the second time.”

“Better do something!” Bernie said. “My father says a game’s never over till the last inning.”

“Is he here?”

“Try to keep him away! But this is one game that’s over already.”

The first Rainbow drove Tom’s first pitch through the hole between third and short, and it seemed as if the Rainbows were
rolling again. A pop-up to Fuzzy Caliel, and then a fly to center fielder Daren Holden, who had taken Lee Cragg’s place, brightened
the Mohawks’ hopes. Then Tom, after throwing a wide pitch to the batter, winged three strikes over the plate. The batter swung
at the last one and missed it a foot. Three away.

Stogie ran in, looking for Sam. But Sam still hadn’t shown up.

“Start it off again, Stoge!” yelled a fan.

“Sharpen up your tomahawks, you Mohawk Indians, and get some hits, will you?” cried another.

Stogie pulled on his helmet, selected his favorite bat, and stepped to the plate. Fats drilled a strike past him, then drilled
in another. Stogie swung. “Strike two!” cried the ump.

Fats threw a bad one, then came in with a pitch that looked slightly inside. Stogie couldn’t take the chance of being called
out. He cut at it.
Crack
! A line drive between short and third for a neat single!

“Thataway to go, Stoge!” screamed the fans.

Bob followed up with a single too, and Stogie raced around to third. Beak Peters, batting for Bernie, socked a grounder to
short. The Mohawk fans groaned as the ball zipped to second and then to first for a double play. Stogie stayed on third, playing
it safe. Tony rapped a grounder
to second which sizzled through the player’s legs, and Stogie scored.

Tom walked and Russ Russo, pinch-hitting for Jim Albanese, stepped to the plate. He waited out Fats Cornell’s pitches, got
a two-and-two count, then laced the next pitch to short left. The left fielder came running in hard, but didn’t seem to be
covering the ground fast enough.

He did though. He caught the ball one-handed and received a whopping cheer from the Rainbow fans. Rainbows 6, Mohawks 2.

Two innings to go. It was possible for the Mohawks to beat the Rainbows, but not probable. Not probable at all. It was too
much to expect.

Stogie reached his position at second.
When he turned, his eyes popped. There, around the corner of the stands, came Sam, running as hard as he could!

“Hey, look who’s here!” he shouted. “It’s Sam!”

C
OACH DIRKUS sent Sam immediately out to short in place of Dennis. Sam’s face sparkled with a broad grin. “Hi, Fuzzy! Hi, Stogie!”
He waved to the guys in the outfield, who shouted, “Hi, Sam!”

Look at the greeting he’s getting
, thought Stogie.
The guys really like him. Guess I’m the only one … Heck! I like him, too! It’s just that I don’t like his taking over shortstop
from me. He didn’t really
take
it. Coach Dirkus put him there
for his own reasons. I’ll never get over that part of it. I don’t think I will, anyway
.

“Got something to tell you after the game, Sam!” he cried. “Something about your glove!”

The sparkle on Sam’s face diminished a little. “What is something?”

“You’ll see!”

“Steeerike!” shouted the ump as Tom grooved the first pitch to the Rainbow lead-off hitter.

“Where’ve you been?” asked Fuzzy. “The game’s almost over!”

“Impossible to leave early from New York City!” Sam replied. “I keep telling my father, ‘Hurry! Hurry! Hurry! I must play
baseball!’ He says he is hurrying!” Sam shrugged. “Lucky to be here now!”

“Yes, but it’s probably too late,” replied Fuzzy dismally.

Crack
! A hard grounder to Stogie’s right side. He rushed over, fielded the hop and snapped the ball to first. Out!

“Nice play, Stogie!” yelled Sam.

Stogie grinned. Who else would praise you on a play while still thinking you were responsible for ruining a glove autographed
by one of Japan’s greatest baseball players? Who else would play with you as if nothing had happened, though you knew that
he was still hurt. Sam really believed that Stogie had ruined his glove. Some guys might hate you for it, might want you to
pay for the glove. Not Sam. He had wanted nothing.

A high pop-up over the pitcher’s box. “I’ll take it!” Tom shouted.

He took it. Two away.

The third Rainbow came up. Tom grooved a pitch for strike one. His second
pitch was slightly higher. The batter swung.
Crack
! A solid blow! The ball shot to deep left. It kept going … going … and dropped over the fence for a home run!

We’re licked
, thought Stogie gloomily.
The Rainbows are ahead of us, 7 to 2, and we have only two more raps
. It was hope, less.

Tom struck out the next Rainbow and the Mohawks came to bat. Daren Holden led off. Fats couldn’t get more than one strike
over the plate and Daren got a free pass to first. Sam Suzuki was up next.

“Your meat, Sam!” Beak yelled. The fans gave Sam a big hand too.

Sam took a called strike, then two balls. Fats wiped his sweating face, stepped on the mound and delivered. Smack! A bullet
drive in the hole between left and center!
The ball dropped between the outfielders and kept rolling. Daren scored and Sam held up at third.

The Mohawk bench was wild with excitement. “Keep it going, Fuzz! Bring ’im in!”

Fuzzy didn’t. He grounded out to short. Stogie strode to the plate. He felt great.

The pitch. Stogie swung. A ground ball through short! Sam scored and Stogie stood on first for his third hit of the game.
Bob flied out to left and Beak stepped into the box, his bat under his armpit while he jiggled the helmet firmly on his head.

Fats got two balls on him, then a strike, then threw two more balls. Beak walked.

Two outs, two men on, and Tony Francis was up. No one had much faith in Tony’s hitting. He had knocked a single the first
time up, and got on base by virtue of an error the second time. His luck couldn’t last.

But it did. He singled to right, scoring Stogie, and Beak raced around to third. Tom Rolf singled, too, but it was a scratch
hit, a slow dribbler down to third that advanced Tony to second.

Russ Russo ended the big inning by grounding out to short. Rainbows 7, Mohawks 5.

The top of the sixth. Each Mohawk was alive with spark and noise. He was going to make sure no ball would go by him.

A smashing drive to short! Sam Suzuki got in front of it, fielded it neatly, pegged it to first. One away!

A poke over first base! It looked certain to be a hit. Bob ran back … back … and caught the ball over his shoulder! Two away!

“One more to get, Tom! One more!”

A high smash to deep center! Daren stood a moment, not moving, as if he had lost sight of the ball. And then he stepped back,
raised his glove, and the white pill dropped into it.

“Man, Daren!” Stogie cried as he waited for the center fielder to come running in. “Thought you had misjudged that one for
sure.”

“I did!” said Daren, laughing.

This was it. The last of the sixth. The Mohawks’ last chance. Daren was first man up. Sam, Fuzzy and Stogie would follow.
Fats drilled a strike down the heart of the plate, then another. Daren sent the third pitch out to center, where it was caught
for out number one.

Coach Dirkus strode in front of the bench, clapping his hands. “Some life,
men! Talk it up! Don’t sink into the dumps now!”

They talked it up. “Blast it outa the park, Sam! You did it before, do it again! He’s the same pitcher!”

Crack
! A line drive over Fats Cornell’s head and Sam stood on first for a single, his second hit.

Fuzzy went the limit, three balls and two strikes, then struck out.