“Yeah, if not here, then maybe next week, huh?”
Mike showed crossed fingers on both hands and then headed off to celebrate with his teammates. Liam continued to the batting cages.
“Okay, boys, grab a bat and get to work,” Coach Driscoll said when the players were assembled.
Liam adjusted his gloves, made sure his helmet was straight, and took up his position in the box.
Foomp! The pitching machine shot the first ball toward him. Whack! He blasted a line drive. For the next few minutes those two sounds plus the sound of his breathing were all he heard. When the machine had emptied, he stepped out.
“Nice work, Liam,” Coach Driscoll said. “Didn’t miss one. Think you can do the same in the game tomorrow?”
Liam smiled. “If they come at me nice and straight like those pitches did? No problem! If not”—he shrugged—“can’t promise I won’t miss occasionally, but I can promise to do my best.”
“That’s all I can ask for.”
Cole trotted up to them then. “Excuse me, Coach, when is the game tomorrow night? I told my folks eight. Is that right?”
The coach confirmed that it was.
Liam was glad for the late start for two reasons. One, it meant they wouldn’t be playing under the glare of the hot California sun but rather beneath the stadium lights. And two, it meant he could tune in to Carter’s game, which started at five o’clock Connecticut time, two o’clock California time. He mentioned his plan to Rodney and Phillip that night at dinner. Both said they’d like to listen to the game as well.
So the next day after lunch, the threesome snagged chairs in the rec room, located the stream of the Mid-Atlantic Regional Tournament, and settled in to watch the action.
“Carter’s pitching?” Rodney asked.
Liam nodded.
Rodney snuggled himself deeper in his chair. “Then this should be good.”
CHAPTER
TWENTY-FOUR
Carter leaned in, ball behind his back, and stared down at the batter. It was a look he practiced in the mirror from time to time: eyes narrowed, expression confident, and lips set with determination. It was aimed at intimidating.
Good thing they can’t see the butterflies in my stomach, he thought.
It was the top of the first inning of the Pennsylvania-Maryland game. Maryland had lost both of its previous contests, but Carter knew better than to anticipate an easy victory. Rather, he believed Maryland would come out fighting, the way a cornered animal will go on the offensive to stay alive.
Ash flashed the signal for a changeup. Carter gave a curt nod and went into his windup. He threw.
Crack! Carter’s heart fell when Maryland’s leadoff batter connected on his very first pitch. But then it leaped again when he saw the path the ball was taking. It traced a high arc into the air above left field. Charlie M. had plenty of time to get under it. Standing with the glove raised and ready, he caught the ball easily for out number one.
Still, Carter thought. I got lucky.
He pitched carefully to the next batter and struck him out. The third Maryland hopeful grounded out to end the inning.
“Freddie! Keith! Craig!” Coach Filbert called out.
While Freddie stood up to prepare for his turn at bat, Ash had a brief conversation with Coach Filbert. Then he slipped onto the bench next to Carter.
“Coach says their cleanup batter has been pretty successful this tournament,” he said in a low voice, “and so we should try out the you-know-what.”
Carter nodded. “Okay.”
They turned their attention to Freddie, who had just stepped up to the plate.
Freddie watched two pitches go by for balls. The third was a called strike. He swung at the fourth and connected for a high pop-up. The Maryland shortstop took two steps back and caught it.
Keith fared better. He knocked a grounder that drove between first and second and beat the throw. Craig followed up that single with one of his own. That brought up Charlie M. Charlie had been a force to contend with at the plate in the last two games. He was again now.
Crack! He blasted a double to shallow left field. A roar of approval rose from the stands as Keith rounded third, raced home, and scored. Craig, however, was thrown out at third.
“Here goes nothing,” Ash quipped as he headed to the plate. Unfortunately, “nothing” is what his turn at bat yielded. He struck out to end the inning.
Carter hurried to the mound. He couldn’t wait to get the signal for the knuckleball. But when he looked down at the first batter, he nearly fell over with surprise.
It was a girl!
He recovered quickly. Girls had been playing in Little League for decades—his friend Rachel was a strong player—but even so, Carter hadn’t expected to face one at Regionals. He wondered why Ash hadn’t warned him that the Maryland player was a girl.
There can only be one reason, he figured. Ash didn’t know, either!
He knew one thing for sure, though. If Coach Filbert had instructed them to use the knuckleball on her, he must have believed the girl was capable of hitting his fastball and changeup.
Carter leaned in, took the signal for the knuckleball, reared back, and threw.
The girl swung and missed by a mile. She quickly stepped out of the box, looking a bit bewildered. The look lasted for only a moment, though. When she got back into her stance, her expression was fierce.
It didn’t help. Two more knuckleballs, two more strikes, and the cleanup hitter was walking back to her dugout.
Carter and his teammates allowed just two hits that inning and no runs. Their turn at bat, they added three to their side of the board to make it Pennsylvania 4, Maryland 0. But Maryland wasn’t about to roll over. It roared back with a three-run inning in the third to draw within one.
That’s the way the score stayed until the top of the sixth. Then Maryland’s cleanup batter did what Carter thought she’d never do. With a runner on second and one out courtesy of a sacrifice bunt, she hit his knuckleball deep into the gap between right and center fields.
Charlie S. raced in from one direction. Craig dashed in from the other. Neither got under the ball in time. Then they got in each other’s way as they both scrambled to pick it up. Meanwhile, the batter was rounding second for third and the runner from second was heading home. By the time Craig and Charlie S. sorted themselves out, the runner had scored and the girl was at third, proud owner of an RBI triple.
She didn’t move from that spot, however, for Carter struck out the next two to end the inning.
Pennsylvania 4, Maryland 4.
“Okay, boys,” Coach Harrison said, clapping his hands together and bouncing on his toes. “This is it. Score now and we walk off winners. Don’t score and we get to keep playing. Now, I love baseball as much as anyone else, but, personally, I’d rather end it now so we can get some dinner before it’s really late. I hear they’re serving pizza tonight!”
The promise of pizza might have motivated the boys in the regular season. But at Regionals, something else spurred them on. That something came from within each player. It was a combination of competitiveness, determination, and the desire to perform his best—not for personal glory, but for the sake of the team.
They stood in a circle and put their hands together in the middle. “Let’s hear it!” Coach Harrison said.
“FOREST PARK, ONE-TWO-THREE! FOREST PARK, ONE-TWO-THREE!”
That cry, it turned out, came from a team of winners. Six batters and one run later, Pennsylvania defeated Maryland.
CHAPTER
TWENTY-FIVE
Liam strode to the plate. Before he stepped into the batter’s box, he scooped up a handful of dirt, rubbed it on the palms of his gloves, and then brushed the excess off. He adjusted his helmet. Finally, he took up his position next to the plate.
It was his first at bat of the game against Northern California, and he wanted to be sure everything was just right.
When Liam had first learned that the eno
rmous state sent two representatives to Regionals, he had assumed that there’d be a bitter rivalry between North and South. He’d feared that such a rivalry might cast a negative cloud over their game. But he soon discovered he was wrong. While the game was one of the most anticipated of the tournament, its popularity was mostly due to the fact that the players on both sides were considered “local boys.” In the end, they were all Californians.
Two hours earlier Liam heard that spectators were circling the streets in their cars, looking for open spaces to park. He realized that the Al Houghton Stadium might be packed to capacity with more than seven thousand fans. He also realized that many of his teammates had never played in front of such a huge crowd before and so might be intimidated.
Worried, he grabbed Phillip and explained his concern.
“We’ve got to make sure they’re relaxed and ready,” he said. “Any ideas?”
Phillip thought for a moment. Then he nodded. “Got one.” Phillip quickly rounded up the other players. “Okay, here’s the deal. If any of you feel like you’re starting to tighten up out there, I want you to visualize this.”
He shot Liam a significant look, then took a step back and stuck his arms out to his sides. Then, to Liam’s great amusement, he started waving them up and down, waggling his hips, and chanting, “Loosey-goosey! Loosey-goosey!”
The Ravenna players cracked up.
Phillip grinned. “I know: I look ridiculous, right? But I’m willing to give it everything I’ve got, even my self-respect, if it helps us win.”
Liam wasn’t thinking about that image now, however. He was completely focused on the pitcher. In the first inning, the NoCal hurler had thrown a combination of fastballs and changeups that had proved hard to hit. Hard, but not impossible. SoCal had gotten on the board with a run thanks to an RBI double off Rodney’s bat.
Now, at the top of the second inning, Liam wondered what he’d see coming toward him.
The pitcher bent forward and nodded his agreement with his catcher’s signal. He straightened, wound up, and, with a lunging step forward, threw.
Liam tried to track the ball’s path as it flew toward him. But he couldn’t. The ball bobbled through the air with a jiggling, dancing motion that his eyes found impossible to follow.
Thud!
“Strike!”
Twice more, the NoCal pitcher threw the erratic pitch. Twice more, Liam stood next to the plate like a house at the side of the road, unmoving and locked in place.
“Strike three!” the umpire cried.
Liam still didn’t move.
“Son, I’m sorry, but you’re out. Please return to your dugout,” the umpire said not unkindly.
Liam shook himself and trudged back to the bench, still holding his bat. He sat staring at the ground.
Rodney eased up next to him. “Hey, don’t worry about it,” he said. “Everybody strikes out now and then.”
Liam blinked and turned to look at his friend. “I know. That’s not… I’m not…” He let out a frustrated huff of air, then took off his batting helmet and cap and raked his fingers through his brown hair. “That pitcher struck me out with knuckleballs.”
Rodney nodded, puzzlement etched on his face.
“Carter throws knuckleballs,” Liam said.
“Yeah. So?”
Liam took a deep breath in through his nose and let it out slowly through his mouth, a breathing technique Coach Driscoll had taught him that was supposed to help calm nerves. It didn’t work.
“So,” he answered at last, “what am I going to do if he’s on the mound and I’m at the plate—and the U.S. Championship is on the line?”
He leaned forward and put his head in his hands. “I’ll tell you what I’m going to do. I’m going to strike out. Again. And lose my team the chance to play in the Little League Baseball World Series. Again. And that strikeout will be caught on national television, seen by hundreds of thousands of people all over the world, and available on the Internet forever.”
He moved his hands and let his head drop down.
“Again.”
As he stared at the ground, he felt Rodney move away from him; someone else took Rodney’s place. An arm draped over his shoulders, gave a quick squeeze, and then was removed. Liam looked up and found Coach Driscoll regarding him kindly.
“Liam,” the coach said, “I’d like you to do something for me.”
“Okay,” Liam said slowly. “What?”
“I’d like you to be proud of yourself.”
Liam’s eyes widened.
“I’d like you to think back on this season,” the coach continued. “Think of what you’ve accomplished. Of the challenges and the obstacles you’ve overcome. Of how you’ve helped get us here.” Coach Driscoll swept an arm toward the diamond. “You made some mistakes in the regular season, but you didn’t give up on yourself. You figured out what you needed to do to get back on course, and then you did it.”
Crack!
Both the coach and Liam looked at the field. Phillip had just hit a bouncing grounder. Now he dropped the bat, ran for all he was worth, and beat the throw to first. The coach applauded with his players and then turned back to Liam.
“You didn’t give up when you came face-to-face with Phillip, either,” he said. “Instead, you broke through the wall between the two of you and held out your hand in friendship. That took real guts.”
Liam flushed with a mixture of embarrassment and gratitude at the praise. “Thanks,” he murmured.
“As for what may or may not happen between you and Carter in the future…” The coach shrugged. “We’ll deal with that together if we make it to Williamsport.”
Liam stared at him. Then he gave a smile that lit up his whole face.
“ ‘If’? Don’t you mean ‘when’? Because I have to tell you, Coach”—he straightened, gazed around the dugout at his teammates, and said in a loud, clear voice—“we’re going to go all the way!”
For more great reads and free samplers, visit
LBYRDigitalDeals.com
DON’T MISS THE NEXT BOOK IN THE SERIES!
WHAT IS LITTLE LEAGUE®?
With nearly 165,000 teams in all 50 states and over 80 other countries across the globe, Little League Baseball® is the world’s largest organized youth sports program! Many of today’s Major League players started their baseball careers in Little League Baseball, including Derek Jeter, David Wright, Justin Verlander, and Adrian Gonzalez.
Little League® is a nonprofit organization that works to teach the principles of sportsmanship, fair play, and teamwork. Concentrating on discipline, character, and courage, Little League is focused on more than just developing athletes: It helps to create upstanding citizens.
Carl Stotz established Little League in 1939 in Williamsport, Pennsylvania. The first league only had three teams and played six innings, but by 1946, there were already twelve leagues throughout the state of Pennsylvania. The following year, 1947, was the first year that the Little League Baseball® World Series was played, and it has continued to be played every August since then.
In 1951, Little League Baseball expanded internationally, and the first permanent league to form outside of the United States was on each end of the Panama Canal. Little League Baseball later moved to nearby South Williamsport, Pennsylvania, and a second stadium, the Little League Volunteer Stadium, was opened in 2001.
Some key moments in Little League history:
• 1957 The Monterrey, Mexico, team became the first international team to win the World Series.
• 1964 Little League was granted a federal charter.
• 1974 The federal charter was amended to allow girls to join Little League.
• 1982 The Peter J. McGovern Little League Museum opened.
• 1989 Little League introduced the Challenger Division.
• 2001 The World Series expanded from eight to sixteen teams to provide a greater opportunity for children to participate in the World Series.
•
2014 Little League will celebrate its 75th anniversary.
HOW DOES A LITTLE LEAGUE® TEAM GET TO THE WORLD SERIES?
In order to play in the Little League Baseball® World Series, a player must first be a part of a regular-season Little League, and then be selected as part of their league’s All-Star team, consisting of players ages 11 to 13 from any of the teams. The All-Star teams compete in District, Sectional, and State tournaments to become their State champions. The State champions then compete to represent one of eight different geographic regions of the United States (New England, Mid-Atlantic, Southeast, Great Lakes, Midwest, Northwest, Southwest, and West). All eight of the Regional tournament winners play in the Little League Baseball World Series.
The eight International Tournament winners (representing Asia-Pacific, Africa, Australia, Canada, the Caribbean, Europe, Mexico, Japan, and Latin America) also come to the Little League Baseball World Series.
The eight U.S. Regional Tournament winners compete in the United States Bracket of the Little League Baseball World Series, and the International Tournament winners compete in the International Bracket.
Over eleven days, the Little League Baseball World Series proceeds until a winning U.S. Championship team and International Championship team are determined. The final World Series Championship Game is played between the U.S. Champions and the International Champions.
WANT TO LEARN MORE?
Visit the World of Little League, Peter J. McGovern Museum, and Official Store in South Williamsport, Pennsylvania! When you visit, you’ll find pictures, interactive displays, films, and exhibits showing the history and innovations of Little League.
More information is available online at LittleLeagueMuseum.org.
CALLING ALL SHARP-EYED READERS! CAN YOU FIND THE WORDS LISTED BELOW?
BASEBALL
Perfect Game Page 9