Fast-Pitch Love

by Clay Cormany

  "Nothing. Come on, let’s get these girls out on the diamond."

  Sylvia yelled to her team. "Grab your gloves and get out there, you guys! You need to warm up!"

  "Where’s Coach Waldron?" asked Heather. "Did she give up on us?"

  "Of course not," said Jace. "My mom had to take care of my sister’s bee sting. She’ll be here any minute. Now get out there!"

  Watching the girls go through their fielding routine, he realized they had improved since their first practice. Now there was smoothness to their throws that had been missing earlier. Infielders snared grounders more often than not, and outfielders showed no fear in running at a full gallop to catch fly balls. Nonetheless, there was room for improvement. As if to prove the point, Dana let an easy pop fly ricochet off the bottom of her mitt.

  "Use both hands, Dana!" Sylvia shouted. "You should know that."

  From the corner of his eye, Jace saw his mother and Phoebe approaching from the parking lot along with other parents and players. His sister wore her uniform and carried her mitt under her arm. Bee sting or no bee sting, she seemed intent on playing. When they reached the diamond, Phoebe ran out to take fielding practice with her teammates while Martha walked over to Jace and Sylvia. She held out a piece of paper.

  "Here’s the batting order I came up with," she said. "What do you think?"

  Jace took the paper and held it so Sylvia could see it, too. The order started with Angela, Kay, and Heather, followed by Denise at clean-up.

  "Why not put Lauren in the fourth slot?" he asked. "She’s more a power-hitter than Denise."

  "I don’t want to put too much pressure on Lauren this early in the season," Martha answered. "If she does well, I’ll move her up."

  "What about Corey, Mrs. Waldron?" Sylvia chimed in. "She’s one of our best hitters. Shouldn’t she be higher than seventh?"

  Martha raised her eyebrows. "That’s a good point, Sylvia, but it’s also a good idea to put a strong hitter in the middle of your order — where your opponent doesn’t expect to find her. Besides, with Tina right ahead of Corey, that gives us a good one-two punch."

  Jace and Sylvia studied the rest of the list. Phoebe held the eighth spot, and Lauren the tenth. Dana came last. No one could argue about putting her there, since she was the team’s weakest hitter.

  When the Valkyries finished their fielding practice, the Firebirds ran out for their turn. After watching them just one minute, Jace knew that a victory over this team would be tough. There was a polish and poise to them. They flagged down and snared nearly every ball hit in their direction, even line drives. Throws in the infield zipped through the air as if on a guide wire and were plucked down by players who covered their bases well. The pitcher, a tall girl who wore her blonde hair in pigtails, threw with both speed and accuracy. Still, the Firebird coach seemed less than pleased with what he saw. Time and again, he would fault one player or another for not hustling enough or not executing properly.

  Several of the girls on Jace’s team took note of how the Firebirds played.

  "Look at them," Dana lamented. "They’re a lot better than us. We don’t have a chance."

  "Yeah," Susie chimed in. "We’re going to get killed."

  "Just play your best, girls," Jace said, "and don’t get discouraged."

  Phoebe glared at him and sneered. "Easy for you to say."

  While the Firebirds continued their warm-up, family and friends of players on both teams settled in. Some took seats in the bleachers behind the backstop; others plopped down on blankets and lawn chairs behind the fences that ran parallel to the foul lines. Eventually the Firebird players ran to their bench along the third base side, and the umpire came onto the field. The league often hired high school students to be umpires, but this man looked close to thirty. He motioned for the two head coaches to join him at home plate. After exchanging pleasantries and batting orders, the three of them made a quick survey of the playing field, which aside from some muddy ground around second base, appeared to be in good shape. Then came the coin toss. The Firebird coach called it right and chose to be the home team, so the Valkyries batted first.

  Jace hoped their opponents might be less intimidating in a game than they were during the pre-game warm-up, but that hope was in vain. Standing in the coach’s box at first base, he watched the first three Valkyries go down in order, with Angela striking out on three swings and Kay and Heather falling to easy grounders. Then the Firebirds unleashed their fireworks. After the lead-off batter crushed Corey's first pitch for a double, the second batter followed with a single to left that easily scored the runner. The third Firebird batter hit a scorching grounder that Tina gloved at shortstop. Realizing the batter would beat her throw to first, she flipped the ball to Phoebe at second base to force the runner there.

  "Nice going, girls!" Jace yelled. "Now get the next two."

  But the Valkyries didn’t get the next two or even the next five. By the time they retired the side, the Firebirds almost went through their entire batting order and put six runs on the board.

  "Let’s get some of those runs back," Sylvia shouted from the third-base coach’s box as Denise walked to the plate. The first pitch was high for a ball; the second flew over the plate, and Denise swung with all her might but made only minimal contact. "Crap," she exclaimed as the ball skittered toward the backstop.

  "Come on, come on, you can do better than that!" a voice behind her yelled. Jace knew the voice belonged to Mr. Davenport. Clad in his orange t-shirt and khaki shorts, the man sat hunched over in his seat near the top of the bleachers. He seemed almost frozen in place while he watched the action on the field.

  The next two pitches were outside, setting up a three-one count. Maybe I’ll finally get some business here, thought Jace, but Denise popped the next pitch into right field for an easy out. Mr. Davenport flung his hands up in frustration, as his daughter trotted back to the bench.

  Sarah, the next batter, struck out but not before making things interesting by sending a foul ball flying toward the Valkyries' bench.

  "Incoming!" shouted Lauren, as purple-shirted girls ducked for cover. The flying sphere knocked a packet of sunflower seeds out of Heather’s hand before plowing into a bottle of sports drink, sending a small geyser of red liquid into the air like a miniature volcano.

  "Hey, if you gotta hit fouls like that, hit ‘em at the other team," shouted Lauren.

  The third out came when Tina hit a slow grounder to shortstop. Running hard, she appeared to reach first base just ahead of the throw, but the umpire called her out. Cries of disbelief and protest came from several girls on the bench. "You blew it, buster!" a man yelled from somewhere behind him. Jace looked over his shoulder at his mother.

  "Shouldn’t we argue that one?" he asked.

  "No, it could've gone either way," she said. "I don’t want to risk getting tossed out of the game."

  In their second at bat, the Firebirds were only a little less devastating than they were in their first, putting up five runs before being retired. A bright spot came when Corey struck out the Firebirds’ catcher, a short, stocky girl, who tended to chase high pitches. Corey apparently noticed this weakness when the girl batted in the first inning and never threw any pitch below her chin after that. One foul ball and two swings later, the catcher was out.

  "Way to go!" Sylvia shouted, giving a little jump of triumph.

  Jace studied her, noticing that Sylvia had bright, sparkling eyes and a playful smile that burst across her face like a sunbeam. And though heavier than Stephanie, Sylvia had nice curves that couldn’t be hidden even by her somewhat oversized team jersey. Perhaps sensing his interest in her, she moved next to him.

  "Is something wrong, Jace?"

  "Uh… no, except we’re losing this game." Jace chewed himself out for gawking at Sylvia. He had no business doing that. Not when he still had a shot at Stephanie.

  Before the third inning began, the umpire walked over to the Valkyries’ bench.

  "Coach Wald
ron, your team will need to score at least one run this inning to keep the game going," he said. "Otherwise, it’s over."

  "I understand," Martha replied.

  Jace did too. Under the league's run rule or, "mercy rule," if one team was more than ten runs ahead of the other after three innings, it automatically won. He reviewed the batting order. Corey was first up, followed by Phoebe and Charlene. Then he focused on the new pitcher who warmed up on the mound.

  "Mom, I have an idea," Jace said.

  "I’m all ears, son," she replied.

  "Tell Corey to bunt. In fact, have Phoebe bunt, too."

  Martha furrowed her brow. "They’ll wise up soon enough and move their infield toward the plate."

  "And when they do, we can let our girls swing away. But right now, we need a run just to stay in the game, and that means getting people on base any way we can."

  Martha sighed. "We need a lot more than just one run."

  "Yeah, but scoring a run will give the girls a lift even if we end up losing," Jace continued. "Corey’s pretty fast. My guess is she can beat the throw to first if she lays down a half-decent bunt."

  "You might be right," said Martha. "Tell you what — why don’t I coach first this inning and let you handle the batters?"

  The suggestion startled Jace. "Are you sure you want to do that?"

  "Sure, I’m sure. We’re down eleven runs. It can’t get much worse."

  Jace nodded, and Martha headed toward first base.

  "What's up?" shouted Sylvia from her coach's spot next to third base.

  There was no time to explain his strategy, so Jace just flashed the "OK" sign and hoped she would trust him. Then he knelt next to the girl with bat in hand.

  "Corey, did you hear what I said to the coach?"

  "I think so," Corey replied. "You want me to bunt?"

  "That’s right and then run to first base as fast as you can."

  "I’ll try," Corey said, pressing her batting helmet on her head and striding toward home plate.

  Corey’s first bunt attempt went foul, and the second didn’t even make contact. But on the third pitch, she sent the ball dribbling toward first base just inside the foul line. The catcher tossed off her mask and pursued the ball. Catching up to it, she plucked the ball off the ground but bobbled it as she prepared to fire it to first base. The delay allowed Corey to reach the bag a half-second before the ball slapped into the first baseman’s glove. "Safe," shouted the umpire, and a collective cheer went up from the Valkyries’ bench.

  At last, a base runner!

  "Phoebe," Jace said to his sister before she followed Corey to the plate. "Do the same thing."

  "You mean bunt?"

  Jace started to roll his eyes at the stupid question but then checked himself. "Yes, bunt. I’m not sure they can handle it."

  Phoebe nodded and went to the plate. On the first pitch, she laid down a bunt that rolled toward the pitching mound. Both the pitcher and the catcher dashed toward the ball. Reaching it at the same time, they looked at each other, uncertain who should pick it up. By the time the pitcher decided it was her play, Phoebe made it to first and Corey took second. Another cheer rose from the Valkyries’ bench, followed by shouts of "way to go" and "keep it up."

  Before the next batter came to the plate, the Firebirds coach called a timeout and huddled with several of his players around the pitching mound. When play resumed, the Firebirds’ infield moved in close, with the first and third basemen putting themselves less than twenty feet from home plate.

  Jace considered the situation. Their next batter was Charlene Thuong. Though small, she hit the ball hard in practice. If Charlene swung away and made even modest contact, she had a good chance of getting the ball past the infield and scoring Corey and maybe even Phoebe. On the other hand, the Firebirds had not handled either of the bunts by Corey and Phoebe, so why change the strategy?

  Charlene, her head almost engulfed by her batting helmet, looked at her assistant coach before going to the plate.

  "Give us another bunt," Jace said. "Let’s load ‘em up."

  The first pitch fell outside for a ball, and the second was too high. With a two-O count, Jace felt tempted to signal Charlene to just stand there and try to get a walk. But before he could decide what to do, the next pitch came flying toward the plate, and Charlene laid down a bunt that seemed to go straight toward the pitcher’s mound.

  "I’ve got it," the pitcher shouted, dashing off the mound and lowering her glove to scoop up the bunt. But when the ball was just inches from her outstretched arm, it veered to the right. Overrunning the ball, the pitcher tried to reach back and grab it, but managed to come up with only a chunk of dirt. By the time the first baseman circled back to retrieve the ball, Charlene had planted her foot on first, Phoebe had made it to second, and Corey stood at third. Cheers erupted all along the Valkyries’ side of the field. With the bases loaded and no one out, the team was ready to tear into the Firebirds’ lead.

  Lauren was up next. The Firebird coach gestured for his players to move back to their normal positions. He must have thought Lauren either wouldn’t or couldn’t bunt. Or maybe he figured that, given her size, she would be slow enough to throw out at first even if she managed to lay one down. None of that mattered to Jace. All he wanted was one run to keep the game going. And that meant sticking with the strategy that had brought them this far.

  "Lauren, keep things going and bunt like the others."

  The frizzy-haired girl came up to him. "But I want to swing away," she protested. "Like I do in practice."

  Jace shook his head.

  "Come on," she persisted. "I can get a grand slam. I know I can."

  Jace shook his head again and, in a voice just above a whisper, said "bunt."

  Lauren scowled at him and clumped to the plate amid shouts of encouragement from Valkyrie players and fans alike. On the first pitch, she squared to bunt, but pulled the bat away as the ball bounced off the plate for a ball. The second pitch came, and again Lauren went into the bunt position but did not make contact. "Strike one," the umpire bellowed. Just before the third pitch, Jace saw Lauren look in his direction. An "I’ll-show-you" defiance flashed on her face, and when the ball came hurling toward her, she didn’t even try to bunt, but swung with all her might and connected solidly.

  Lauren put enough power behind the ball to send it far into the outfield, but unfortunately it sailed almost straight to the Firebirds’ third baseman. The girl threw up her glove in front of her face, more in self-defense than anything else. The ball thudded into the glove, knocking the girl backward a few steps and sending her cap spiraling to the ground. From its impact with the glove, the ball popped a foot above the third baseman's head and hung there just long enough for the girl to regain her balance and pull it down. Shifting the ball to her throwing hand, she flung it to the shortstop, covering second base, doubling up Phoebe who was halfway to third. The shortstop then wheeled and threw the ball to first base, just ahead of Charlene, who desperately tried to get back.

  "Out at second, out at first, and out at home!" the umpire cried. "Game over."

  The victorious Firebirds cheered and embraced one another. Jace pulled his cap from his head and smacked it onto the ground. Of all the bad luck. A triple play!

  Chapter Fifteen

  An outfielder glided by Lauren and patted her on the shoulder. "Nice hit, kid," she said with a sarcastic grin before joining the other celebrating Firebirds.

  "That's all right, Lauren," said Martha, coming over to her. "You hit the ball hard. It was just bad luck they got you out. Go back to the bench. I'll be there in a couple of minutes."

  Lauren stood frozen for a moment between home and first base and then walked over to the Valkyries’ bench where her teammates gathered around Jace and Sylvia. No one said anything, but disappointment clouded the face of every player.

  Lauren pulled her helmet off, letting her frizzy red hair spring out like some misshapen mushroom. Jace could see her lip quiv
ering and tears collecting at the rims of her eyes. Sylvia came to her and put a comforting arm around her shoulder.

  "It’s okay, Lauren," Sylvia said. "You did your best."

  Lauren let out a sob and then dropped her head; a tear fell to the ground as her chin came to rest just above her chest.

  "Forget it, Lauren," Phoebe said. "We weren’t going to win that game anyway."

  "That’s for sure," Heather added.

  "Yeah," Tina agreed. "They’re a bunch of Amazons. They’ll probably win the whole league."

  Lauren pulled her head up, and ran a finger across her cheek. Just when she seemed to be regaining some composure, another less-forgiving voice rang out.

  "Why didn’t you bunt like the rest of us?"

  The question came from a glowering Corey, who had been poised to score the Valkyries' first run — and keep the game going — when Lauren hit into the triple play.

  "I…I…just thought that…." Lauren groped for words that would justify her defiance of Jace’s order to bunt. Jace saved her the trouble.

  "I’m to blame," he interjected. "I told Lauren to swing away."

  Several girls groaned in disbelief. "You dummy!" Angela said. "Even if Lauren struck out, we would still have two outs to go."

  "And the bunts were working great," said Heather.

  "But the Firebirds were wising up to our strategy," Jace responded. "And with the way Lauren’s been hitting the ball in practice, I figured she might clobber one and get us two or three runs instead of just one."

  "So you got greedy, huh?" Angela shot back. "Coach of the Year, you ain’t."

  "But he is your assistant coach, and you will treat him with more respect," Sylvia snapped. She had been standing next to Jace, allowing the girls to vent their frustrations, until things had gone a little too far. Now with hands on hips, she glared at Angela and then ran her gaze over all the other players.

  "Whatever," Angela said, throwing up her shoulders in an exaggerated expression of indifference. "We’re not going to win any games anyway."

  "Yes, we will," Martha said. She had joined her team after taking the Valkyries’ game statistics to the umpire and the Firebirds’ coach. "We’ve come a long way since our first practice, and we’ll continue to improve."