Look whos playing first.., p.5
Look Who's Playing First Base,
p.5
“Has anybody seen Don?” asked Yuri as he sat with Mike beside the swimming pool the evening before the Checkmates’ last game.
“I haven’t,” said Mike.
“Is he playing baseball with some other team?”
Mike shrugged. “I haven’t heard,” he said.
“I should have quit, not he,” said Yuri softly. “It has been my fault — his quitting.”
“Forget it,” said Mike. “The season’s almost over.”
“Sure. And everybody will remember Yuri Dotzen, the Russian boy. They will say his poor playing made a good catcher quit the team and made the team lose the championship. That is what everybody will remember.”
Mike slid off the edge of the pool to the ground. “You talk too much,” he said. “Come on. Let’s go home.”
Most of the Checkmates were at the field when Mike and Yuri got there. The sun was hiding behind an overcast sky.
Mike’s palm was still swollen and sore from catching. The sponge he used hadn’t helped very much. Each of Gary’s throws felt like a hot iron falling against his hand.
I’ll never be able to catch three innings, let alone six, he thought wretchedly. My hand already looks like a raw hamburger.
Just then a kid came around the corner of the dugout. A familiar kid. He wasn’t wearing a uniform, but he was carrying a glove and a pair of baseball shoes.
It was Don Waner.
13
COACH TERKO looked hard at Don. “Do you think you deserve to play in our last game of the season after what you did?” he asked, his voice as hard as his look.
Don cleared his throat. “No. No, I don’t.”
“But you still would like to play?”
“Yes.”
Mike looked at Bunker, at Art, at the other guys, and then at Yuri. They were waiting anxiously — waiting to hear Coach Terko’s decision.
“Did you try to get on another team?”
Don’s eyes lowered. “No.”
“Why not? I thought you wanted to.”
“I changed my mind. I didn’t want to get on another team.”
There was silence for a while. A good long while. Then Don said, “I couldn’t play with anybody else, Coach. These guys — they’re my friends. All of them. Yuri, too. I — I really didn’t mean all that stuff I said about him.” He looked at Yuri. His eyes were red. “I didn’t, Yuri.”
Yuri smiled. “That’s okay, Don.”
“No, it isn’t. I got to thinking about it. And I — I realized how stupid I was. Boy!” He shook his head. “I don’t know. Here I’ve been with the best bunch of guys in the whole world and I had to pull a stupid stunt like that. But I kept saying I’d quit, unless … well — that stuff I said about Yuri. I didn’t want to go back on my word. Even when I did it I was sorry.
“You were thinking of your pride,” said the coach.
“Yeah. My pride.”
“Then you really are sorry for what you did?”
Don opened his mouth. Nothing came out. He just nodded.
A grin splashed over the coach’s face and he slapped Don on the back. “Okay, son. Come on. I’ll get you a uniform.”
Don’s eyes were dim as he looked at the coach, then at the other guys, every one of whom was smiling broadly.
And then he was running after the coach — running to get back into his Checkmate uniform.
The Checkmates had last raps in their final game of the season. If Fergie, the Rascals’ fast right-hander, pitched his usual good game, he could put his team in the winning column. But the Rascals’ record of six wins and five losses showed that they seesawed back and forth. How they made out today depended a lot on Fergie.
“C’mon, Gary!” shouted Don, banging the pocket of his mitt. “Give it to me, boy!”
Mike smiled. It was sure good to see Don Waner back with the team.
Gary Roberts breezed in the pitch and the Rascal lead-off man popped it to short for an easy out. The next Rascal grounded out to Mike and the third lined a long fly to Tom Milligan. Three outs. The teams exchanged sides.
Dick Wallace stepped to the plate. Fergie blazed in the first pitch for a strike. The next pitch was in there too, and Dick blasted it. The ball sailed out to left and was caught for out number one.
Mike, up next, waited for a good pitch and Fergie gave it to him. Mike swung. The hit was a solid grounder to short. The Rascal shortstop fielded the hop and threw Mike out by a mile.
Hank Rush didn’t even touch the ball. Fergie mowed him down with three pitches.
Oh-oh, thought Mike. Fergie looks in top form today.
“Blaze it by him, Gary!” he shouted from second base as the Rascal lead-off man stepped to the plate.
Gary Roberts grooved the pitch. Crack! The ball pierced the air like a shot, out to deep left. It cleared the fence for a home run and the Rascal fans went wild.
“That blow ought to prick the Checkmates’ fat balloon!” yelled a Rascal fan.
It didn’t. The next three hitters went down — one, two, three.
Tom Milligan led off the bottom of the second with a free pass to first. Bunker flied out to left, Yuri swished, and Dave grounded out to short.
The Rascals came to bat with fire in their eyes. But the Checkmates chilled them, as again the Rascals went down —one, two, three.
“Let’s not blow this game,” said Mike. “What’s one run? Let’s get three or four!”
In spite of the Checkmates’ trailing he felt the best he had in a long time.
“Okay, Don,” said the coach. “You’re up. Start it off.”
Don removed his catching gear, put on a helmet and walked to the plate. He took a called strike, then cut hard at the second pitch. The blow was solid, but directly at the left fielder. One out.
Gary grounded out to short. Then Dick walked and Mike came to bat. He blasted a low pitch directly at the second baseman, cussed under his breath and raced to first.
The second baseman flubbed the ball! It bounced over his shoulder and behind him. Mike was safe at first.
Hank was blessed with luck too. The shortstop missed his sizzling grounder. The bases were loaded and Tom Milligan was up.
“Cork it into the next county, Tom!” shouted a Checkmate fan.
His first swing might have done it if his bat had connected with the ball. Instead, it missed completely. The next swing connected solidly.
The ball never climbed higher than twenty-five feet or so, and was caught easily by the Rascal center fielder. Three outs.
The fourth and fifth innings produced no runs either. The single run scored in the second inning by the Rascals loomed bigger than ever.
The Rascal lead-off man grounded out to short in the top of the sixth. The next hitter popped a high fly outside of the first-base line and Mike beelined for it.
“I’ll take it!” cried Yuri. “I’ll take it!”
The ball dropped into Yuri’s glove and stuck there.
“Thataway to go, Yuri!” shouted Mike. His yell was drowned out by the cheers from the crowd.
Gary mowed down the third batter. Three outs.
“All right, men,” said Coach Terko. “It’s our last chance. Tom, get on.”
Tom walked. Bunker then laid into a one-one pitch for a single, and Tom raced around to third.
Yuri was up.
“Blast it, Yuri!” cried Don. “Send it into orbit!”
Mike looked at him and smiled. I couldn’t play with anybody else, Coach. These guys — they’re my friends. All of them. Yuri, too. He was sure Don had meant every word.
Yuri stood at the plate, a calm, unworried look on his face. Fergie grooved the first pitch and Yuri swung. Strike.
He watched the second pitch zip by. Strike two.
Come on, Yuri! Mike pleaded. He could see that Yuri had gotten over the fear of being hit by the ball.
Yuri stepped out of the box, put the bat between his legs, rubbed his hands together and stepped in again.
Crack! A long, solid blow to deep, deep center! It seemed longer than any ball he had hit before! Another home run!
It was over. The Checkmates won, 3 to 1.
“Man, oh, man, you can really swat that ball!” smiled Don, pumping Yuri’s hand.
Yuri smiled through the sweat glistening on his face. “Thanks, Don,” he said. “And thanks for coming back, too.”
“That goes for me, too,” said Mike. “Double!”
How many of these Matt Christopher sports classics have you read?
Baseball Pals Long Shot for Paul
The Basket Counts Long Stretch at First Base
Catch That Pass! Look Who’s Playing First Base
Catcher with a Glass Arm Miracle at the Plate
Challenge at Second Base No Arm in Left Field
The Counterfeit Tackle Red-Hot Hightops
The Diamond Champs Return of the Home Run Kid
Dirt Bike Racer Run, Billy, Run
Dirt Bike Runaway Shortstop from Tokyo
Face-Off Soccer Halfback
Football Fugitive The Submarine Pitch
The Fox Steals Home Supercharged Infield
The Great Quarterback Switch Tackle Without a Team
Hard Drive to Short Tight End
The Hockey Machine Too Hot to Handle
Ice Magic Touchdown for Tommy
Johnny Long Legs Tough to Tackle
The Kid Who Only Hit Homers Wingman on Ice
Little Lefty The Year Mom Won the Pennant
All available in paperback from Little, Brown and Company
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Look Who’s Playing First Base
When the Checkmates needed a new first baseman, Mike Hagin’s new friend, Yuri, seemed like a logical choice. But when Yuri started flubbing plays and the team’s star player threatened to quit as a result, Mike was not sure Yuri was such a good choice after all — for a teammate or for a friend. The story of how Mike helps Yuri develop as a player, and of how Yuri helps Mike develop as a friend, is an absorbing and exciting one for all sports fans.
Matt Christopher is the writer young readers turn to when they’re looking for fast-paced, action-packed sports novels. A resident of. South Carolina, he is the author of many books, among them The Kid Who Only Hit Homers. For a listing of all his titles and information on joining the Matt Christopher Fan Club, turn to the last page of this book.
Matt Christopher, Look Who's Playing First Base
