“Yo, yo, yo! Jersey’s back, and he’s not alone!”
Yo-yo directed everyone’s attention to the two boys from Kalamazoo as they entered the sandlot through the gap in the chain-link fence.
“Lookit, they’ve both got their Yankees gear on,” said Pokey. “Man, I’d like to get me one of those!”
“Who’s your friend?” T-Bone asked, looking Dave up and down. Derek knew T-Bone was just being curious, but he could also see that Dave was a little nervous because of the attention.
“This is my buddy Dave, “ Derek said, putting an arm around Dave’s shoulder. He had to reach up to do it, because Dave was about five inches taller.
“Where’d he get all those freckles?” asked Yo-yo. “Or are they the stick-on kind?”
That made everyone laugh—even Dave. A couple of the kids clapped him on the back, as a kind of salute for being a good sport and letting them goof on him.
Dave had passed his first test, Derek was relieved to see. Now all Dave had to do was play his best baseball, and he’d really have made the grade.
Jumbo and Tiny were captains, as usual. Tiny chose Derek first. And then, after Jumbo chose Pokey, Tiny, with a glance at Derek, took a chance and chose Dave. Dave looked relieved to be on Derek’s team, and of course Derek could understand why.
As different as these kids were from Derek and most of his friends back home, they weren’t that different. Dave, though, was different from everybody else Derek knew, even back in Michigan. His family was rich, and his house wasn’t near any other houses, so Dave had to be driven everywhere by Chase in the family’s Mercedes.
Derek would have bet that if these kids found out Dave was rich and into golf, they’d be teasing him about it from now until forever.
Still, kids were kids, and baseball was the great unifier. Derek had faith that Dave would improve his game for the occasion, and that the two of them would represent Kalamazoo well here in New York City.
“Hey, Jersey.” It was Jumbo, coming up behind Derek and tapping him on the shoulder. Derek turned to him, saw that Jumbo was holding his backpack in his hand, and froze.
“I’ve got something for you, like I promised.”
Derek had a feeling he knew what was in that backpack. But he didn’t want to know for sure, because if it was what he thought it was, he’d have to go straight over and tell Grandma. And that would be the end of everything, before the game even got started!
“Uh . . . show me later, okay, Jumbo?” he blurted out in a near panic, before Jumbo could actually reach into the backpack and show him what was inside. “After the game, okay? I’ve got to keep an eye on my friend.”
There. He’d put off his moment of reckoning. Jumbo let out a quick, scornful laugh. “Yeah, right. Sure thing. I’ll hit you up after. But don’t go running off, Jersey. I’ll be looking for you.”
Derek got his meaning. Either he hung around after and did what Jumbo was asking him to, or he wouldn’t be welcome to join them again.
“Whoa,” Dave said as they got ready to start the game. “This sure is different from our league in Kalamazoo. These kids can really be tough on you, can’t they?”
“Don’t take it the wrong way,” Derek advised him. “They mess around that way with each other too all the time. It’s their way of having fun. Just go with it, like you were doing, and you’ll be fine.”
Derek started the game at shortstop, with Dave playing left field behind him. Dave’s usual position was third base. But luckily, Derek’s dad had insisted the previous season that everyone on the team spend time playing different positions, just to have the experience, in case they needed it down the road.
Hopefully that experience would come in handy today.
Derek got ready, and his team’s pitcher, a pudgy kid nicknamed Baby, wound up and fired a fastball for a strike to start the game.
Derek turned around to see Dave out there, pounding his glove and bouncing up and down on the balls of his feet, just like Derek’s dad and Chase had taught all their players to do.
On the second pitch the hitter rifled a line drive over Derek’s head that curved toward the foul line. Dave got a good jump on it, dived headlong, and grabbed it! He slammed to the ground and slid another three feet in the dirt, kicking up a dust storm.
“Whoo-eee!” Baby yelled, along with the rest of them. “Way to go, Spots!”
“Kid can play!” Tiny shouted, pointing out at Dave from the catcher’s position behind home plate.
Spots, huh? Derek thought. Well, considering Dave’s freckled face, they could have thought of worse nicknames.
Derek turned around and gave Dave a thumbs-up as Dave got up and dusted off his jeans and Yankees jersey.
Derek knew they were expensive too. Dave’s jersey was brand-new, and his jeans were always pricey and in the latest style. But it didn’t matter now. Once you covered them with dirt, fancy new clothes looked the same as crummy ones.
Dave shot Derek a big grin in return and pointed with his glove. Clearly he was feeling a lot better now about being a part of this whole new adventure.
Their team got out of the top of the inning without giving up a run. Then, after a leadoff double, Derek found himself at the plate, with a man on second and nobody out.
He swung at the first pitch and fouled it back, right into the catcher’s mask. The catcher staggered backward and fell against the backstop, stunned.
Tiny rushed out from the bench and squatted down next to the catcher. Derek too came over to see if the kid was okay.
“You don’t look so good,” Tiny told the kid. “Go sit down for a while. I’ll sub for you.”
Derek was puzzled. Tiny was on the opposing team and was a fierce competitor. But in this “league,” where the only rules were the ones the kids decided to play by, it was obviously okay to switch teams for a while, in case of an emergency.
The catcher who’d taken the hit protested that he was okay, but Tiny insisted that he sit down for this inning, or at least until it was Tiny’s turn to bat. Then Tiny put on the catcher’s mask, got his own mitt, put on the shin guards and chest protector, turned to Derek, and told him to get back in the batter’s box.
Derek took a couple of pitches. Then, with a count of 1–2, he laced a single to right that scored the runner from second!
On the first pitch to the next hitter, Derek decided to spring a surprise and steal second base. Tiny was startled at first but recovered quickly and fired a laser beam to nail Derek by a hair for the out.
“Oh! What a play! Yes!” cried Jumbo at short, pumping his fist.
“Yo, what’d you do that for?” Yo-yo complained from the bench. “You’re supposed to be on our team, Tiny!”
“I’m on their team right now,” Tiny shot back. “Whatever team I’m on, I do my best. You got a problem with that?”
Yo-yo didn’t answer.
“That’s what I thought,” said Tiny.
Derek got up and dusted himself off, then pointed in to Tiny and clapped his hands in front of him, saying “Great play!”
Tiny pointed back at him and nodded, and Derek felt they understood each other. Derek couldn’t help feeling that he and Tiny thought alike, and that Tiny was the kind of kid he would want to be friends with, no matter where they ran into each other.
The hitter struck out, and now it was Tiny’s turn to hit. He took off the catcher’s gear, looked over at the kid who’d been hit in the mask, and asked if he was okay to catch. The kid got up off the bench, gave Tiny five, and took the catcher’s gear from him.
Now Tiny was back on his own team, and it didn’t take long for him to make up for the damage he’d done to them while subbing for the other team. He hit a bomb to center that went way over the fielder’s head. Tiny circled the bases and scored easily to make the score 2–0.
The inning ended quietly after that, and soon the momentum swung back the other way.
Jumbo’s team kept hitting line drive after line drive off Baby. After they’d tied the game and put another man on base, Tiny made a switch and brought Yo-yo in from second base to pitch.
Yo-yo, it turned out, was a guy who liked to get hitters out with trickery rather than with speed. He threw all kinds of quirky pitches—quick pitches, slow pitches, curving and screwballing ones.
That was fine, as long as there was no one on base. But every time a runner got on, they wound up getting to second and third because Yo-yo’s pitches kept getting away from Tiny.
One kid even stole home when a pitch bounced off Tiny and up the first-base line! Soon it was 5–2, Jumbo’s team.
But Tiny’s guys came back in their half of the fourth, with five big runs, the last two coming on another long home run by Tiny himself.
If Derek thought his team was finally back in charge, he was soon shown otherwise. Jumbo started the rally in the fifth with a triple, and only a good, long throw by Dave to get the ball back in from deep left field kept it from being a home run.
Jumbo scored anyway, though, when, with two outs, another of Yo-yo’s trick pitches got away from Tiny.
“Come on!” Baby whined from second base, where he’d been playing since Tiny had switched him out. “Put me back in, Tiny! I’m good to go!”
“Hey, that run was on me,” Tiny told him. “You just do your own job and let Yo-yo do his.”
“Man!” Baby groused, but he stopped complaining after that. And when the next batter shot a screamer his way, he calmly grabbed it for the third out.
“That’s what I’m talking about!” Tiny told him when they got back to the bench, clapping him on the head with his catcher’s mitt.
The score was 7–6 when the sixth inning began, but something told Derek that the game was far from in the bag. Sure enough, with one out, Jumbo singled to right field. The next hitter hit a soft grounder to Baby, who grabbed it and flicked it to second base.
Derek, racing over from short to take the throw, knew it would be a difficult double play to turn. But if he succeeded, the game would be over!
He came to the bag quickly and grabbed the toss—but just then Jumbo came barreling into him, sending Derek into a somersault and almost causing him to drop the ball!
Jumbo was out, but the batter had made it to first base safely, and that proved to be super-important, because the next batter hit the ball high and far for the go-ahead home run!
Even though Yo-yo came back to strike out the next hitter, Derek’s team was still behind, with only three outs left to stage a comeback. But nobody was down in the dumps. In a game like this one, it wasn’t over till it was over.
Dave was leading off. He’d already walked and had an infield single, but he hadn’t really made good contact with a pitch all day.
Derek had noticed that in the weeks since they’d last played ball, Dave’s swing had gotten loopy again, like when he’d first started playing baseball. It was more of a golf swing than a baseball swing, and it had taken Derek a while to help him change it to a more level swing.
Derek wanted to remind Dave about it now, but he didn’t want to mess with his friend’s confidence in the middle of a game. Dave was already probably feeling anxious, trying to impress the other kids, just like Derek had been during his first game here.
So instead of saying something to Dave about changing his swing, Derek just told him, “Make the pitcher get the ball down. Don’t swing at anything above the belt.”
Dave looked puzzled, but he’d known Derek long enough, and trusted his baseball smarts enough, to nod his head and say, “Okay.” Derek just hoped Dave would get a low pitch to hit with that golf swing of his.
Dave let two high strikes go by. He looked doubtfully at Derek, but Derek just nodded slowly, to show that he still thought Dave should stick to the plan.
The next pitch was a ball outside. The one after that was over Dave’s head, and now the count was even at 2–2.
Finally the pitcher threw a fastball down at the knees—right where Dave’s swing could get at it. Dave practically jumped out of his shoes, swinging so hard that he nearly fell down. But he made solid contact, and the ball got between the outfielders for a leadoff double! Dave clapped his hands together as he reached second, and pointed in to Derek as if to say, Thanks.
The next hitter dribbled one in front of home plate, and the catcher faked a throw to second, forcing Dave back to the bag, before throwing to first for the out.
Now Derek came up to bat. He knew he had to make contact and get the ball out of the infield. Seeing that there was a big hole between the first and second basemen, he slapped the first pitch that way. It skidded between them and into the outfield!
Dave barreled into third, and seeing his teammates windmilling their arms, he kept on going, steaming toward home. The throw came in, but the tag was too late. Tie game! Dave popped up and pounded his hands together, shouting, “YEAH!”
Derek had taken advantage of the throw home to make it to second base. Standing there now he noticed, though Dave seemed to have no idea, that Dave had ripped a hole in the knee of his pants. Oh, well, Derek thought with a grin. They died a hero’s death.
He could only watch now, and hope that one of the next two hitters would drive him in with the winning run. The first man up, though, struck out on three straight blazing fastballs. The next man walked.
Next up was Tiny himself, and Derek was glad it was him. If anybody could deliver a clutch hit off a tough pitcher, it was the captain.
Tiny worked the count to 3–2, then fouled off three straight pitches, two of which would have been ball four.
He doesn’t want to walk, Derek realized. He doesn’t want to leave it for the next guy. He wants to be the one to drive in the winning run.
The next pitch wasn’t over the plate, but it was close enough for Tiny to get a good swing on it and send it out into right field, just over the first baseman’s head.
Derek was off and running, and he never slowed down till he went into his slide. The ball came in to the plate ahead of Derek. The catcher grabbed it and stuck his mitt out to make the tag. But Derek’s foot came in so hard, and so fast, that it knocked the ball right out of the catcher’s mitt for the winning run.
Game over! 9–8!
Derek popped up and joined his teammates in celebrating, jumping up and down and high-fiving one another.
“Man, that was amazing!” Dave said, with a silly grin spread all over his face. “That was so awesome!”
“You played great!” Derek told him. “You ripped your good pants, though.”
Dave looked down, saw the hole in his jeans, and laughed. “Yeah? Well, yours are ripped too, smart guy.”
Derek looked down to see that he, too, had a hole in his pants! He must have ripped them sliding into the plate just now.
Not that he cared. They’d played, and won, one of the greatest games of their lives!
What a feeling!
“Hey. Jersey.”
Derek’s heart sank in a split second.
“Jumbo! Hey.”
“It’s time. Come on, let’s go.”
Derek turned to Dave, not knowing exactly how to explain to his friend what was going on. But Dave had disappeared.
Through the crowd of kids chest-bumping and high-fiving, Derek saw Dave talking to Grandma by the benches on the other side of the fence.
Derek turned back to Jumbo. “Uh . . .”
“You coming? Or not?”
“I . . . uh . . .”
“Hey! Hey!”
Startled, Derek turned to see Tiny advancing on them, an angry look on his face. “What’s going on, Jumbo? What’re you trying to pull now?”
“Man, you know,” Jumbo said. “He’s part of our thing now, so I was—”
“Don’t even think about it.” Tiny jabbed a finger at Jumbo. “Don’t go draggin’ him into any of that stupid stuff you guys do.”
“What, you think he’s better than us?” Jumbo shot back angrily.
“I don’t see him acting like a big shot, messing up walls with spray paint. Do you?”
“Come on, man! Lots of kids do like that,” Jumbo insisted.
“This place belongs to everybody, not just you. You should show some respect.”
Derek was stunned. Hadn’t Jumbo suggested that all the kids had put their initials on the wall? He’d taken Jumbo’s word for it that they had. But now it was clear that Tiny, at least, would never do something like that, and that Jumbo had been lying to Derek.
Tiny turned his attention to Derek. “You know, you don’t have to do something just because some clown tells you to. You just do what you think is right. Stick with that.”
Derek nodded. “Thanks, Tiny. I mean it. I don’t do stuff like that. But anyway, thank you, guys, for letting me and Dave play here with you. It’s been amazing.”
“What? You’re not coming back next week?” Tiny asked, surprised. “I thought you said you were here for the whole summer.”
“Next time you come,” Jumbo said, “I’ve got a new nickname for you. You want to hear it?”
“Don’t listen to this clown,” Tiny told Derek. “He’s always getting himself and everybody else in trouble. You do what you’ve got to do—whatever you think is right—and never mind what he calls you.”
Derek nodded.
“I hope we see you next week, Jersey,” Tiny added, seeming to read Derek’s mind. “But either way, it’s been good knowing you. Go on now. You’ve got a Yankees game to catch, right?”
“Right,” said Derek, only now remembering that it was almost game time. “Well . . . I hope I do see you guys again sometime.”
“Yeah,” said Jumbo, hanging his head a little in embarrassment.
“Hey, me too,” Tiny said, shaking Derek’s hand. “Maybe one day we’ll see each other over there, huh?” He nodded toward the big ballpark across the street, and smiled. “You never know. You’ve got some skills, man. Keep working at it.”
“Thanks, Tiny!” Derek said. “You guys too. All of you. You guys deserve a real league of your own. And I hope you get to have one again soon.” With that, he jogged over to where Dave and his grandma were waiting.
“What happened back there?” Dave asked. “What took you so long?”
Derek looked at him, at Sharlee and Grandma, and said, “I’ll tell you later.”
He would too. Not Sharlee, of course. He wouldn’t want to upset her with it. And not right now. Not when they were about to go see the Yankees, Dave’s first big-league game ever!
They crossed the street and got in the ticket holders line, and Derek felt his anxieties melting away. He and Dave had just played in—and won—an amazing game, with an incredible bunch of ballplayers.
And now, to top it all off, they were going to see the real Yankees play!