8

Coach Flaherty had scheduled a practice for four o’clock that afternoon. The Fletchers’ house was on Manny’s way to the park, so as usual he stopped by to pick up Stu.

Mrs. Fletcher opened the door. “I’m afraid Stu won’t be going to practice today,” she said. “He’s in bed.”

“In bed?” Manny echoed.

A shadow of worry crossed her face. “I think he might be coming down with a virus or something. He didn’t seem like himself when he got home from the park yesterday, and after school today he went straight to bed! For all I know, he has a fever, but he won’t let me feel his forehead to see if it’s hot.”

She sighed. “Maybe I’m making too much of it, though. He says it’s nothing, he just wanted to lie down. How did he seem at school today?”

Manny searched for an answer. If he told Mrs. Fletcher that Stu had had a headache and felt nauseated at school, she’d insist on giving her son a thorough once-over. Then she’d be sure to discover the lump on his head and the truth would come out. And when Stu found out that Manny had been the one to tip her off, he’d be furious.

Then a solution came to him.

“You know, now that you ask, he did say he didn’t sleep very well last night,” he said truthfully. “Well, anyway, I’ll tell the coach he’s not coming. See you!”

He hurried away before Mrs. Fletcher could probe any further. His mind was racing. Are Stu’s troubles somehow connected to the blow he’d gotten? He could understand about the headache—anyone would have one after taking a pitch to the skull. But would a hit like that make a guy tired or sick to his stomach? He just didn’t know.

He arrived at the ballpark a few minutes late to practice. Coach Flaherty was displeased with his tardiness, but looked even more disgruntled to hear that Stu was home in bed. “What’s his problem?” he growled. “Aches? Fatigue? Huh. Sounds like what Jason has. His mother should have him checked for Lyme disease.”

Manny nodded. He supposed the coach could be right, although he didn’t remember Stu saying anything about having a rash. Besides, the way Mrs. Fletcher covered him in insect repellent made him think a tick wouldn’t want to go near him!

The coach gathered the team together then. “I’d hoped we’d only be missing Jason today, but it seems Stu won’t be joining us, either. Nothing we can do about that, of course, but there is a piece of good news. Jason is doing better than expected and will be back at shortstop tomorrow.”

While the Grizzlies applauded, Manny glanced at Sean. He wasn’t surprised to see disappointment on his face. His expression changed to surprise a moment later, however, when the coach announced that he was putting Sean at second base that day. “Taylor,” he added, “you’ll play Jason’s position today.”

Taylor Jones was the Grizzlies’ usual second-base substitute. He looked equally surprised at the coach’s decision to swap him over to shortstop. Manny might have been, too, if he hadn’t remembered Sean’s batting average from the previous game. Manny figured the coach was hedging his bets. Taylor was a good kid and a decent infielder, but he was lousy at bat. If the coach had to have a sub in place for the game, he would naturally want someone who could hit as well as field. Sean was the right choice in that case.

At least, that’s what Manny thought before practice began. Soon after, though, he wasn’t as sure. Sean had been prepared to step into the shortstop slot, but it was obvious that he wasn’t as confident about his responsibilities at second.

The coach had started off with a simple around-the-horn throwing drill to warm up the infield. Sean did fine with that, but when the coach moved on to more complicated situation drills, he looked lost.

Coach Flaherty didn’t help matters. He bellowed out commands and corrections so fast that even Manny, who had more of a clue than Sean about how to play second base, had trouble following the instructions. After several frustrating minutes, Sean looked ready to drop his glove and walk away.

Manny didn’t want to see that happen. He liked Sean and thought he showed promise as a ballplayer. He realized, too, that Stu had been right the day before: Manny knew more about what infielders were supposed to do than he thought he did. He also remembered what Stu had said to Sean about them being a team and how when one player improved, the team improved as a whole.

With that in mind, he screwed up his courage and approached the coach with a suggestion.

“Coach Flaherty, if you want, I could give Sean some pointers on playing second base,” he said. “That way, he’ll be ready for the game on Wednesday—you know, in case Stu isn’t feeling better by then.”

The coach considered the idea and then nodded. “Can’t hurt. Might help. Find a spot off the field somewhere and go over the basics with him.”

“Thanks, Manny,” Sean said as they jogged to a vacant side of the field. “Maybe it’s only me, but when the coach starts yelling like that, I just about can’t take it!”

“It’s not just you,” Manny reassured him. “It makes me crazy, too!” He lowered his voice even though they were out of earshot. “Know why we don’t have an assistant coach like a lot of the other teams do? He scared them all off with his bellowing!”

Sean stifled a laugh. “The way he barks, I sometimes think our team name should be Bulldogs instead of Grizzlies!”

“Yeah, and his growl is just as scary,” Manny said, grinning. Then he saw the coach looking at them and added hurriedly, “Let’s get to work!”