The top of the first inning ended soon after Stu’s error, but not before the Dolphins chalked up a pair of runs. Coach Flaherty rattled off the batting order, sending Kiyoshi to the plate to start them off. “Remember,” he said, “you’re going in with a three-two count. So unless the pitch is really awful, swing!”
Kiyoshi did swing. But he missed and was out.
Jason was up next. A lefty, he swung from his heels and sent the ball flying into shallow right field for a single. That brought up Gary Thompson.
“Lay one down,” the coach muttered to him.
Gary did as he was told, squaring off to the mound for a tidy little bunt. The pitcher must have anticipated that move, however, because he jumped on the ball right away. He sent it to first in time to get Gary out.
Jason, meanwhile, was safe at second. But that’s as far as he got. Stu, batting cleanup, stood like a tree at the side of the road when the pitch came. It whizzed by him at waist level and socked into the catcher’s glove.
“Strike three, you’re out!” the Dolphin coach cried.
Coach Flaherty scowled but didn’t dispute the call. How could he? The Dolphin catcher had barely moved his mitt!
“Dude, why didn’t you swing?” Manny heard Jason ask Stu in the dugout.
Stu just shrugged. “I thought it was a ball.”
Jason shook his head in disgust. “Then you should have your eyes checked, man, because that pitch was as straight as an arrow!”
“Oh, yeah?” Stu retorted. “Well, I call ’em like I see ’em, and to me, that pitch looked lousy!”
Jason looked ready to argue further when Manny cut in. “Guys, it’s just a scrimmage,” he said. “It doesn’t matter! Now come on, get to your positions before the coach has a fit!”
Jason and Stu glowered at each other. Then Jason pounded his fist into his glove and ran onto the field.
Stu reached down for his own mitt. When he stood up, he blinked a few times and then pressed his fingers to his eyes.
Manny looked at him with concern. “You okay?”
Stu dropped his hand. “For the ten-thousandth time, I’m fine. I just need to get focused on the game, that’s all.” With that, he slipped his glove onto his hand and hurried out to the second base position.
Stu seemed to settle down in the second inning. At least, he didn’t make any more flagrant errors. He hit a sizzling grounder in the bottom of the third that went for a stand-up double.
After that inning ended, however, something happened.
“Okay, Grizzlies, I’m going to switch things up now,” the coach announced. “Taylor, you head to shortstop. Manny, you’re in for Ray. Howie, you take the mound. And Sean, go in for Stu at second. The rest of you will—”
“You can’t do that!” Stu interrupted. His face was contorted with anger.
A shocked silence filled the dugout. For one long moment, Coach Flaherty seemed incapable of speech. Then he gritted his teeth and said, “I beg your pardon?”
“You can’t replace me with him!” Stu jabbed a finger toward Sean.
The coach drew himself up to his full height. “In case you hadn’t noticed, Mr. Fletcher, you’re not the only one being replaced. Everyone is going to get a chance to play today. And I warn you now,” he added, “one more outburst like that and Sean will see even more playing time, because I’ll start him at second in the game tomorrow! Do I make myself clear?”
Stu clamped his mouth shut and nodded sullenly. He sat through the remaining innings in stony silence. When the scrimmage ended, he picked up his glove and stalked away right after the coach dismissed them.
Manny started after him, but then stopped. He’d never known Stu to be angry. Even when they argued, Stu didn’t let his temper get the best of him. In fact, until today, Manny would have said Stu didn’t have a temper at all.
Something was wrong with Stu; he knew that now. But what?
A hit on the head couldn’t cause him to act like this—could it?
He didn’t know. But he decided it was time to find out.