Chapter Twelve

TURNAROUND

The Indians were a nervous-looking bunch before their fourth game of the season. Everyone knew what today’s game meant. If they lost and went to 0–4, there was not much chance of ever digging out of that hole.

For some team members that might not have been a big deal. Eddie, Jonah, and Gary had probably never imagined winning a championship. They hadn’t been much into the spirit to begin with, and Gary’s antics hadn’t helped. By now they’d probably given up on the rest of the season.

But for the rest of the kids, being 0–3 was a thorn in their sides. Either it was going to be removed with a win today, or it was going to be stuck there for the rest of the season. Even the usually sunny and optimistic Vijay seemed tense and anxious.

The coaches did their best to get the players into the right frame of mind. But feeling good about their prospects was tough for the players, especially since they were going up against the first-place, undefeated Giants today. None of the Giants’ games had even been close. Their hitters were being talked about all over the league.

Derek wished his dad would change his mind and put Dave back in at pitcher. Derek had been working with him for a week and a half now, and Dave had improved a lot. His changeup looked just like his fastball, and Derek felt sure it could fool even the best hitters. Dave’s fastball had better location now, and he had learned how to follow through so that he ended up in a good fielding position.

Derek was tempted to beg his dad to make a switch, but he knew it wasn’t his place and that his dad wouldn’t like it. So he kept silent as Jonathan warmed up.

Jonathan wasn’t bad on the mound, but he had neither Dave’s arm strength nor his control. Jonathan didn’t have a changeup, either. Against the Giants’ hitters, that did not bode well for success today.

“Hey, team!” came a familiar voice from behind Derek. Turning around, he saw Gary, looking bright and cheerful for a change, and waving a sheaf of papers in his hand.

“Guess what, guys?” he said as everybody turned his way. “I’ve got everybody’s stats for the season right here. You guys can check out how you’re doing, and maybe do something to improve the areas where you’re pathetic.”

That last comment was meant as a joke, of course. A bunch of the kids cracked up as they reached for their personal stats sheets and started to look them over.

“That’s great work, Gary!” Chase said, clapping him on the back. “Who gave you that idea?”

“I came up with it on my own, all by my little old self.” Gary was standing right beside Derek when he said it, and Derek was about to say, “Hey, what about me?” when Gary gave him a quick wink, then turned away and continued giving out the stats sheets.

Chase must have noticed, because he turned to Derek and said, “What have you been saying to that boy?”

For the sake of team harmony, Derek decided to let Gary take the credit. “I just worked with him on his fielding, and Dad showed him how to hit. Maybe it affected his attitude. I don’t know. I just hope it helps in the field.”

“Good job!” Chase clapped him on the shoulder. “That’s being a really good teammate.”

Derek felt great hearing that. It was just how he wanted to see himself on this team that needed so much help. He knew his dad would be proud too, if he learned about all the work Derek had been doing with Gary and Dave.

That reminded Derek. . . . “Chase?”

“Yes?”

“Do you think you could get my dad to give Dave another shot at pitching? I’ve been working with him, too, and he’s gotten really good.”

There. He’d managed to get up the courage to ask Chase at least, even though he couldn’t bring himself to ask his dad directly.

“I’m going to leave those kinds of decisions to the head coach, Derek,” Chase said. “I’m sure he’ll give Dave another chance eventually. Hey, you might even find yourself back out on the mound.”

Derek wanted to scream, “Noooo!” Pitching was the last thing he wanted to do on this team. But he kept silent.

As the team warmed up, going through infield practice before the game, Derek kept thinking there had to be a way to get his dad to give Dave another shot.

But how?

• • •

Derek knew from his stats sheet that he was leading the team in hitting with a .462 batting average. His slugging percentage was also high, at .631, showing that he’d hit a few doubles and triples, and even a couple of home runs.

The point was, the team counted on him as its best hitter. And from what he could see of the Giants’ starting pitcher, Derek ought to be able to do some damage if the Indians could get hitters on base in front of him.

But Mason and Dean, while they made good contact, hit the ball right at two of the Giants’ outfielders. So when Derek came to the plate, there were two outs and nobody on base.

Derek knew Dave was up next. Dave’s average was only .325, but his slugging percentage was even higher than Derek’s. Derek figured if he could get on, Dave might be able to drive him in. That would give the Indians the early lead—but even more important, it would give them hope that they could hang in there against the mighty Giants.

Derek let the first two pitches go by for strikes, but he watched them carefully, timing them so he would be ready for the next strike.

After trying to get Derek to swing at one in the dirt, the pitcher threw his fastest ball right over the heart of the plate.

Derek whacked it, and the ball took off, a screaming line drive that split the outfielders. Derek was on his horse at once, speeding around the base paths. Between second and third he saw that the throw back in had gotten away from the shortstop. Chase, who was acting as third base coach, waved his arm around frantically, signaling for Derek to keep on going.

Derek’s heart was hammering in his chest, and he was gasping for breath, but he kept his speed up and slid into home a split second before the ball got there.

He’d done it! His fourth home run of the season, and a 1–0 Indians lead in the first!

He hadn’t even needed Dave to drive him in. But Dave was up there to hit too, and he drove one to deep right that ricocheted off the glove of the right fielder.

Now it was Dave who came barreling around third. But one thing Dave hadn’t practiced was sliding. He came in standing up and was tagged out by the catcher for the final out of the inning.

“Hey, that’s okay,” Mr. Jeter yelled, clapping encouragement. “Nice hitting anyway, Dave! Let’s go, team. We’ve got a lead. Let’s keep it!”

Easier said than done. Jonathan immediately had his hands full with the Giants’ hitters. After he gave up a single and a walk, their next batter hit a shot over Vijay’s head in left, scoring two runs.

Two walks and a single later, it was 4–1, Giants. Jonathan got lucky with a double play and a throw-out at the plate. But now the Indians were down again, by three big runs.

It was a steep hill to climb. But as their coaches reminded the Indians, it was still early. And soon the team showed they weren’t going to go down easily.

It was Gary, hitting seventh today, who got them back on the scoreboard, cracking a long double to score Tito and Paul, who’d gotten on in front of him with a pair of walks.

That made the score 4–3, Giants, but Jonathan gave up two more runs in the bottom of the inning, putting the Indians back down by three.

Still, the team showed they weren’t done yet, mounting another rally in their half of the third.

Derek was right in the middle of it, legging out an RBI triple, and then stealing home on the catcher’s slow throw back to the mound. That bit of daring took everyone by surprise, causing the Giants’ players to throw up their hands in frustration, and making the Indians’ bench stand up and cheer.

Derek saw that even Gary was jumping up and down! Maybe there’s hope for him after all, Derek thought as he high-fived teammates and got congrats from his dad and Chase. Hey, if Gary had become a believer, how could you count the Indians out?

From the beginning of the game the score had been seesawing, with the Indians putting runs up, and Jonathan giving them back. The Giants’ hitters were making good on their fearsome reputation by pounding his pitches, inning after inning.

By the bottom of the fifth, it was tied, 7–7, but the Giants had the bases loaded, with two outs and their cleanup man at the plate.

Standing at shortstop, pounding his glove, Derek wished his dad would come out to the mound and give Dave the ball. But Mr. Jeter didn’t know about all the progress Dave had made under Derek’s coaching. As far as Derek’s dad was concerned, Jonathan might have had his flaws, but he was still the best pitcher the team had.

Sweat was dripping down Jonathan’s face. Derek knew how nervous he had to be, and shouted encouragement to him. Jonathan nodded back, showing he was listening. He reared back and threw his best heater. The batter made solid contact, sending the ball flying out to right field.

Gary was positioned perfectly, because Derek had taught him how to shift for lefties and play deep for power hitters.

Gary looked up, shielding his eyes from the sun with his mitt, just as Derek had shown him. At the last moment he ducked, but he kept his glove up and open—and somehow the ball found it!

Gary clamped his mitt shut with both hands, and the umpire signaled the out that ended the inning and kept the score tied!

Everyone cheered as Gary trotted back to the bench. Now it was his turn to get high-fived, and he sure seemed to be enjoying it. He nodded and strutted, and acted like he’d had that ball all the way.

Derek had to laugh. Was this the same kid who’d nearly brought the team to its knees with all his negativity the first three weeks of the season?

It sure didn’t look like it. This was the first time Gary had been made to feel part of the team, and Derek knew how great that had to feel to Gary.

“Come on, Indians!” Chase shouted. “We’ve got these guys nervous! They haven’t had a close game all year till now!”

“That’s right,” said Mr. Jeter. “If we take the lead now, they’re going to start worrying!”

Derek hoisted his bat and headed to the plate to lead off the top of the sixth. Glancing over to the bench, he caught sight of Gary, who tipped his cap and nodded, pointing to him as if to say, You’re the man!

Derek tipped his batting helmet in a return salute and settled into the batter’s box. He scanned the field and saw that the outfielders were playing him to pull the ball. So he made up his mind to hit it to the opposite field if he could—in other words, to hit it where they weren’t. Something else his dad had taught him over the years.

He fouled off three pitches in a row, took two that were out of the strike zone, then fouled off three more trying to go the other way.

If the Giants’ coaches saw what he was trying to do, they didn’t make their fielders adjust. So Derek kept to his plan, and on the next pitch he dinked one over the first baseman’s head.

The ball landed just fair, and just far enough in the outfield for Derek to leg out a leadoff double!

With the go-ahead run at second, Dave’s job was to knock him in. But Dave hit into bad luck. The second baseman grabbed his line drive with a last-second dive. Derek had to hustle back to the base to avoid making the second out.

Tito struck out, and Paul walked. That brought Gary up to the plate with two on and two out. Derek knew this was the biggest at bat of the game so far. If the Indians didn’t score now, the Giants could win the game in the bottom of the sixth against whomever Mr. Jeter put in to replace Jonathan, who by league rules had reached his pitching limit.

Gary waggled the bat over his shoulder, leaning back toward the catcher, with all his weight on his back foot, just like Mr. Jeter had taught him at the cages. He swung through the first pitch, which was way over his head.

“Easy, Gar!” Mr. Jeter yelled. “Make him throw you a strike!”

Gary nodded to show he’d heard, and got ready. Here came the pitch. . . .

Gary swung, and hit a grounder between the first and second basemen. Both tried to catch it, and it bounced off the first baseman’s mitt. Meanwhile, the pitcher was late covering first base. Gary, slow runner that he was, beat out the throw to first—barely, huffing and puffing like a locomotive.

Meanwhile Derek, who had rounded third, saw that everyone’s attention was on first base, and he just kept going.

“Home! Home!” the Giants’ catcher yelled. The pitcher, who was holding the ball, saw what was happening and fired it in. Derek slid, and the tag came right on his helmet.

“Safe!” yelled the umpire.

“YEAH!” yelled the entire Indians bench.

The next batter struck out to end the rally, but now the Indians led, 8–7, and the Giants were down to their last licks.

Sure enough, they seemed tight and nervous, just as Chase and Mr. Jeter had predicted. Paul, the Indians’ new pitcher, was finding it hard to get the ball over the plate, but that was just as well, since the hitters seemed anxious and overeager to swing.

Swinging at balls, not strikes, the first hitter dribbled a grounder back to the mound for an out. The second man up lined out to Derek, who made a spectacular leap to grab it before it went into the outfield.

Then the Giants’ coach called his team together. Derek knew he had to be telling his hitters to make Paul throw strikes, that a walk right now was as good as a hit.

The next two men walked, and Mr. Jeter walked out to the mound and took the ball from Paul, who looked dejected. “Derek!” he called.

Derek blinked in shock. No! he thought. Not me! Not now!

“Dad,” he said as he reached the mound. He was about to say something about giving Dave a try, but his dad never gave him the chance.

“Just get us one out, Son,” he said, handing Derek the ball. “I know you can do it.”

Derek nodded, took a deep breath, and accepted the fact that he had no choice but to get this done. He reared back and threw the ball as hard as he could. But his first three pitches missed badly, and he wound up walking the first man he faced.

Now the bases were loaded. He couldn’t afford to walk this next guy, or the Indians’ lead would be gone, and with it their best chance of winning the game.

So Derek took a little speed off his fastball, concentrating instead on getting it over and hoping that his fielders would make a play behind him if the batter made good contact.

On a 1–1 count the hitter smacked a high fly deep to right. Gary got a good jump on it, took the perfect route to the ball, and, miracle of miracles, reached out and grabbed it one-handed to end the game!

In the celebration that followed, there were no pranks from Gary, no snide negative comments, no put-upon sighs or rolling eyes—only high fives, cheers, and hugs from his teammates.

Their coaches were ecstatic too. “Gary, you get the game ball!” said Mr. Jeter, and everyone cheered again.

“I’m going to have to revise all those crummy stats,” Gary cracked, and everyone laughed.

Derek felt deeply happy. Not only had his team finally won a game, but he’d contributed in a number of areas. Gary might have been awarded the game ball, but Derek knew he’d had a whole lot to do with Gary’s improved fielding.

Not to mention that, at 1–3, the Indians had a pulse. They’d beaten the mighty, previously unbeaten Giants! Now the Indians could at least hope this was the beginning of better times for the team, with more wins to come in the future.

All that, thought Derek, plus he was going to get a great grade on his math project!