The Grizzlies, minus Stu, were all gathered in the dugout by two forty-five that afternoon. They were all concerned about Stu and eager to help.
“Coach Flaherty will be here in less than an hour,” Manny reminded them, “so let’s see what we can come up with before then.”
They huddled together and shared their ideas about what to do when particular Shark batters came to the plate and what to do during different defensive situations.
“One thing I’m worried about is what could happen if Stu misjudges a catch or a hop on a grounder,” Manny told them. “If that happens, he could take a ball to the head.”
“I’ll charge in on any grounders hit to my side of the field,” Jason said.
“And I’ll be more aggressive on those hit to shallow right infield,” added Howie Timilty, who would be on the mound at the start of the game.
First baseman Luis Hawk said he could do that, too.
“And if I see you moving in,” right outfielder Charlie Eisenberg said to Luis, “then I’ll rush in to cover first so Stu doesn’t have to.”
They continued outlining options for several more minutes. They were so intent on their discussion that they didn’t hear Coach Flaherty approach until he spoke.
“Well, well, this is what I call initiative!” he boomed. Then he frowned. “But where’s Stu?”
“Here I am!” Stu jogged up. If he was surprised to see everyone else already there, he didn’t show it. And if he was still angry at Manny, he didn’t show that, either. In fact, he shot him an apologetic look as he took a seat on the bench.
The coach ran down the starting lineup. Stu smiled when his name was called. The other Grizzlies shot one another knowing glances and nods.
The Sharks showed up soon afterward. Slowly, the stands filled with fans. Manny saw his parents and a man who looked so much like Sean that he had to be a relative. He spotted Mrs. Fletcher, too.
The two teams took turns warming up. Then the umpire called for the game to begin.
The Grizzlies were up first. Third baseman Kiyoshi Satou selected a bat, swung it a few times, and stepped into the box. He let the first pitch go by for a ball. The second was high and was called a ball, too. But the third was dead-on. Kiyoshi swung and—crack!—sent the small white sphere sizzling between second and third. It might have gone for a single if the Sharks shortstop hadn’t made a spectacular diving catch to pluck the ball from the air.
Kiyoshi wheeled around the bag and back to the dugout, disappointment etched on his face.
“You’ll get ’em next time, K!” Stu said.
Jason moved from the on-deck circle to the batter’s box. He clipped four foul balls before finally connecting squarely with one. The ball flew high in the air over second base. The center fielder raced in and caught it on a hop. He relayed it to first but was too late. Jason was safe.
Jason made it to second a few moments later, thanks to a sacrifice bunt from Gary Thompson. Two outs, man on second, and now Stu was up at the plate.
Manny was in the on-deck circle. He watched anxiously as the pitcher went into his windup. Stu was wearing a helmet, of course, but what if the pitch went wild and connected with his face?
He needn’t have worried. The Sharks pitcher threw fast but true, just the kind of pitch Stu liked. Yet for some reason, Stu didn’t swing.
“Strike one!” the umpire called.
Stu stepped out of the box and shot a perplexed look at the ump. He gave a quick shake of his head and then returned to his stance.
The pitcher threw again. This time, the ball dipped down just as it crossed the plate. It would have been a difficult one to hit, but Stu didn’t even try.
“Strike two!”
This time, Stu looked frustrated by the call. And when the third pitch zipped by him and straight into the catcher’s mitt for a third called strike—and the third out—he rounded on the official, mouth twisting in anger.
Manny quickly moved to intercept. “Tough break, Stu,” he said, grabbing him by the arm and leading him to the dugout.
“Tough break nothing!” Stu fumed. “That umpire must be blind or something. I mean, you saw it, right?”
Manny spread his hands wide. “Saw what?”
“You kidding me? That ball was jumping all over the place! I swear, that pitcher has something in his hat that he’s rubbing on the ball. You just watch and see if I’m not right!”
Manny guessed then that Stu was suffering from blurred or double vision. But what could he do? Stu didn’t believe he had a concussion, so he wasn’t likely to believe he was having trouble with his eyesight, either.
If only there was some way I could convince him, Manny thought as he struggled into his catcher’s gear. Maybe then he’d understand the danger he’s in—and take himself out of the game!
But until he thought of something, all he could do was try to protect his friend. With that in mind, he hustled to his position and readied himself for the action ahead.