Psst!”
Liam jumped at the sound. He’d been so engrossed in his book, a sports novel by his favorite author, that he didn’t hear the flight attendant approach.
Kate, according to her name tag, laid a finger on her lips and nodded toward his seatmate. Liam glanced over and suppressed a laugh. Phillip was out like a light, mouth open and head lolling on the pillow he’d propped up against the plane’s small oval window.
“Where are we?” Liam whispered as he put down his book, unfolded his tray table, and accepted the bag of pretzels and soft drink Kate handed him.
“Somewhere over Ohio,” Kate replied.
Liam yawned. He and his teammates had been traveling since early morning. A chartered bus had taken them; the Northwest champions from Obsidian, Wyoming; and the coaches for both teams from San Bernardino to the airport in Ontario, California, where they boarded a flight bound for Philadelphia. Another bus would take them to Williamsport.
Kate held out another bag of pretzels. “Would you like to save these for your teammate?” She grinned. “Or you can eat them if your friend doesn’t wake up soon. I won’t tell.”
Liam took the snack and a second drink, too, and Kate moved to the next seats. As he munched a salty stick, he sneaked another glance at Phillip.
Your teammate, Kate had called him. Your friend. And yet just a few months ago, he wouldn’t have been caught dead sitting next to Phillip.
He and Phillip had first met at last year’s Little League Baseball World Series. Liam had been living in Pennsylvania and was a catcher on the Mid-Atlantic Regional championship team then. Phillip pitched for West. Their teams faced each other in the U.S. Championship. In the last inning, Liam came up to bat. Mid-Atlantic was down by a run, had two outs, and a runner on third. Liam wanted to send that runner home something fierce.
Phillip was on the mound. His first pitch was a fastball. Liam thought it would miss the strike zone, but it didn’t. Strike one. Liam nicked the second for a foul and strike two. When Phillip’s next pitch came, Liam swung for the fences—and struck out to end the game, and Mid-Atlantic’s chance to play for the World Series title. To make matters worse, the momentum from his powerful swing corkscrewed him off-balance. He’d landed face-first in the dirt—a humiliating moment caught on camera and later posted online for anyone to see.
In time, the memory of his colossal strikeout might have faded to nothingness. But a freak coincidence brought it back into crystal clear focus.
That winter, Liam’s family moved from Pennsylvania to Southern California. To Phillip’s hometown, to be exact. Liam didn’t know Phillip lived there, though, until after Little League tryouts. To his relief, he and Phillip were assigned to different teams. They would meet on the field, but only a few times, not every practice and every game.
Knowing he’d face Phillip, Liam threw himself into the sport as never before. Phillip seemed to do the same.
Our unspoken rivalry made us both work harder, Liam thought as he finished his pretzels.
When they both made the All-Star team, Liam decided to clear the air. At the first practice, he marched up to Phillip and congratulated him on last year’s World Series win. The bold move worked. Now here they were, winging their way across the country to play in that most celebrated youth sports event, the Little League Baseball World Series, not just as teammates, but as friends.
“Unbelievable,” Liam murmured, “and awesome.”
Phillip woke up with a snort. He stretched and pointed at the snacks. “Hey, are those for me?”
Soon afterward, a crowd of Northwest players gathered near their seats. The boys knew that Phillip and Liam had been to the World Series before. They peppered them with questions about their experiences.
“What’s it like, playing in front of those huge crowds?” a sandy-haired boy wanted to know.
“I’m not going to lie to you,” Liam answered. “When I ran into Lamade Stadium for my first game, I was a little intimidated. But then the game started, and everything else just kind of faded into the background, you know?”
The boy nodded. “Yeah, that happened to me this last tournament.”
The conversation turned to the Dr. Creighton Hale International Grove. The Grove, as it was known, was where the players from all sixteen teams—eight from the United States, eight from regions around the world—lived during the World Series tournament.
“Here’s how it works,” Liam said. “You get a card that you keep with you at all times. That gets you into The Grove, so don’t lose it or forget it!
“There are four dorms,” he continued. “Each building is two stories tall. Four teams, two U.S. and two International, stay in each building—one U.S. and one International per floor.”
“The recreation area is awesome,” Phillip added. “Tons of stuff to do, like Ping-Pong, video games, television—”
“And a pool!” Liam cut in enthusiastically.
“What about the food?” someone called out.
“It’s so good!” Phillip and Liam said in unison, drawing laughter.
One of the players wanted to know if he’d see his family at all.
“Definitely,” Liam replied. “You can arrange to go out to dinner or to the mall or the movies with them, meet up with them on days you don’t have games, see them under this big tent—”
“And be sure to look for them at the Grand Slam Parade.”
The Grand Slam Parade was a huge welcome celebration honoring all the Little League teams. Held in downtown Williamsport the night before the tournament began, it attracted thousands of fans. Liam remembered seeing his and Carter’s families cheering and waving at them from the sidewalk.
“But, honestly, you’ll be so busy with your other family,” Phillip said, indicating the West and Northwest players, “you might not have much time to see them!”
The informal Q-and-A session ended soon after that. Many of the boys dozed off. Liam, however, thought about the parade.
Wonder if my family will be with Carter’s this year, or if they’ll hang out with other West parents.
He didn’t know the answer, and after a while, he slept, too. He woke up when Kate shook him lightly.
“We’ll be landing soon,” she said.
Liam rubbed his eyes. “What time is it?”
“Almost six o’clock, East Coast time,” she answered.
Liam sat up, instantly wide-awake. “Carter’s game is about to begin!”