by Adam Hughes
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
Faded Hero
As Waterman stepped in against Kurt Gregory, the Cadets’ fireballing righty, Dan recalled the moment at batting practice that had turned around Ted’s season. Really, it was also the moment that had turned around the Eagles’ season, because as soon as Big Ted started to hit, so did the rest of the team. The guys in front of Ted in the lineup turned their attention to getting on base so he could drive them in, and the guys behind him were usually hitting without pressure since Waterman regularly cleared the bases with his big knocks.
From that day in late April until the end of the season, Ted hit .583 with 10 home runs and 31 runs batted in over the course of 10 games. Pitchers seemed afraid to pitch to him and had started walking him, which meant he got on base, one way or the other, nearly 80% of the time.
But Kurt Gregory was a talent in his own right, and he didn’t back down from anyone. When Ted dug in and set up close to the plate, Gregory wasted no time in uncorking a high inside fastball that sent Ted sprawling to the ground. Eagles fans booed, and players from both teams exchanged angry stares, but the home plate ump stepped forward and raised both hands, urging everyone to stay calm. He pointed to the mound and yelled, “Watch it, Gregory.”
After the crowd settled down, Ted stepped into the box again, but about a foot outside where he should have been. Before Dan could even think about it, Gregory laid in another fastball, and Ted waved at it, his hands all the way down at the knob.
From the dugout, Croft called out, “Step up there, Waterman, and choke up!”
Ted shot a disbelieving look to his coach but then did as instructed. Gregory took his time with the next pitch, finally offering up an off-speed ball that looked like one of those Bugs Bunny slo-mo pitches that caused the Gashouse Gorillas such fits in the old cartoons. It was a textbook sequence, but Ted was looking for another fastball and swung way too early, twisting his body into the ground like a corkscrew.
Dan noticed Waterman had been slightly off-balance, weight on his front foot throughout the at-bat and tried to catch Croft’s eye to key him in, but the coach was too focused on the action on the field. Dan bounced back and forth nervously as Ted stepped back into the box, wanting to help but knowing he wasn’t allowed in the dugout.
Finally, just as Ted was setting up, Dan yelled out, “Lean back, Ted!”.
The catcall distracted Waterman, who called for time and stepped out of the box. He looked into the stands and met Dan’s eyes, nodding his understanding. Then he settled back into his stance, this time looking much more balanced.
Up in the count two strikes to one ball, Gregory would most likely try to end the encounter with a bang by blowing a fastball by Ted, and Dan looked out to the mound to watch the big pitcher set up. Immediately, Dan noticed Gregory was standing with his left foot closer to third base than it had been throughout the inning to that point. When he threw either a fastball or change-up, Gregory set up with his feet in a direct line with home plate, so this slight angle could mean he was planning a different offering.
Dan had played against Gregory a couple of times and had heard about him plenty, so he ran through the right-hander’s repertoire in his mind. The fastball and change were his bread and butter, but Dan seemed to remember Gregory had been working on something else toward the end of the previous season, too. As the pitcher went into his windup, the light-bulb went on for Dan.
“Curveball!” he yelled, and reflexively clapped a hand over his mouth as if he’d just divulged a national secret.
In the box, Ted’s head flinched, but the rest of his body remained rock solid. The pitch rolled toward home just above belt-high but then downward, only slightly, as it crossed the plate. Gregory had hung his curveball, and Ted was ready for it. He swung hard and met the ball on the back half of the plate, a violent hip flip helping him pull the pitch into center field. Dan watched the ball climb into the night and could see in his peripheral vision that Gregory had fallen to the ground as he spun to watch the flight.
The Cadets’ center fielder sprinted all the way to the wall, but he was left to watch and admire as the ball carried into the gloaming and disappeared down a hill that led to the parking lot.
Back on the field, Ted clenched his fist near his chest as he circled the bases, and Eagles fans cheered in celebration of his home run.
Dan’s eyes followed his lumbering former teammate around the diamond, and the two nodded to each other when Ted stepped on home plate. As Waterman bent to pick up his bat and teammates stepped toward the on-deck circle to congratulate him, Dan heard a shout from the direction of the Eagles’ dugout.
“Nice call, Coach!” the voice called out.
Dan looked around to see Croft with his hands at the sides of his mouth for amplification. The coach smiled and gave Dan a thumbs-up. Dan returned the smile, and David clasped his son on the shoulder.
“Great job, Dan,” David said.
“Thanks, Dad,” Dan replied. He rubbed his eyes and followed up with, “Dad?”
“Yes, Dan?”
“I’m not feeling very well. I think I need to go home.”