The Hooper Redbirds had first raps against the Lansing Wildcats in their second league game on the Lansing athletic field. Apparrently Coach Corbin’s faith in Sylvester Coddmyer III had improved, because he was lifting Sylvester’s position in the batting order from ninth to eighth.
Sylvester glanced at the first-base bleachers. Sure enough, George Baruth was sitting at the end of the third row, wearing the same pants, same jersey, same coat, same cap. Mr. Baruth must have caught his eye for he lifted a hand in a wave, and Sylvester waved back.
He thought of that evening last week when he was sick and had that dream—or whatever it was—of George Baruth’s coming to visit him. If it was a dream, it sure was as real as could be.
Jim Cowley, leading off, lambasted a high pitch to center field for the first out. Ted Sobel struck out, Milt Stevens walked, and Jerry Ash flied out to end the top half of the inning.
Right-hander Terry Barnes, slender as a reed and slow as molasses, had trouble finding the plate and walked the first two Wildcats. Up came Bongo Daley, the short, stout Wildcat pitcher.
“A pitcher batting third?” muttered Jim Cowley. “Must be a hitter, too.”
Apparently Bongo was. He drilled Terry’s first pitch to left center for a double, scoring one run. The cleanup hitter stepped to the plate.
Terry bore down and struck him out with five pitches. Bobby Kent caught a long fly in center field. The runner on third tagged up and raced in for the second run. A pop-up to short ended the inning.
“Come on, you guys,” snapped Coach Corbin. “This isn’t tiddlywinks. It’s baseball. Let’s get going!”
Bobby, leading off, smashed a liner down the left-field foul line that just missed going fair by inches. He lambasted another almost in the same spot.
“Straighten it out, Bobby!” yelled the coach.
Bobby did. The third baseman caught the next line drive without moving a step.
The ball hadn’t risen more than five feet off the ground. One out.
Duane walked. Eddie popped to short for the second out, and up to the plate stepped Sylvester Coddmyer III.
The crowd cheered. The cheerleaders led with:
Fee! Fie! Fo! Fum!
We want a home run!
Sylvester Coddmyer!
Hooraaaay!
Suddenly Sylvester remembered that he had forgotten to look for the coach’s signal. He stepped out of the box, glanced at the coach sitting in the dugout, received a smile in return and the sign to “hit away,” and stepped back into the box.
“Ball!” cried the ump as Bongo blazed in the first pitch.
“Ball two!”
Wasn’t that a little too low? thought Sylvester.
“Ball three!”
“He’s going to walk you, Syl!” yelled Jim Cowley.
“Steeeeerike!”
Three and two. Bongo caught the ball from his catcher, stepped off the mound, loosened his belt, tightened it, yanked his cap, and finally stepped on the rubber. He stretched, delivered, and bang!
Sylvester’s bat connected with the ball, and for a moment he watched the white sphere drill a hole through the sky as it shot to deep center field. Then he dropped the bat and started his easy run around the bases while the cheers of the fans and cheerleaders rang in his ears.
“It’s fantastic, Syl!” cried the coach as he shook Sylvester’s hand at the plate. “Just fantastic!”
“How do you do it?” asked Jerry Ash, who was supposed to be the team’s cleanup hitter.
“I just pick the good one and swing,” replied Sylvester honestly.
“And blast it out of the park,” added the coach.
Terry went down on three straight pitches. Three outs.
Redbirds 2, Wildcats 2.
Terry Barnes’s first pitch to the Wildcat leadoff man was drilled sharply through the hole between first and second bases. Sylvester stooped to field the low, sizzling roller, but the ball squirted through his legs. He spun, raced after it, picked it up near the fence, and heaved it in. Sick over the error, he saw the Wildcat pulling up safely at third.
“Forget to drop your tailgate, Syl?” asked Ted Sobel, grinning.
“Guess so,” replied Sylvester.
A pop fly to third, and then a one-hopper slammed back to Terry, accounted for two outs, and Sylvester felt better. The Wildcat whose ball he had let skid through his legs was still on third.
Ted Sobel caught a long, high fly for the third out.
Bobby Kent belted a single that half inning, scoring two runs.
Bongo’s home run over the left-field fence with nobody on was the Wildcats’ only hit in the bottom of the third.
Eddie Exton, leading off for the Redbirds in the top of the fourth, popped out to second. And even before Sylvester started for the plate, the Redbird cheerleaders were yelling:
Sylvester Coddmyer!
The third!
The girls jumped and clapped, joined in applause by the Redbird fans.
Sylvester, blushing, stepped to the plate.