“You two have been busy,” Kate’s mother said. She was walking down the aisle with a computer bag slung over her shoulder. A man and woman dressed in dark blue security uniforms were with her.
“I hear you kids are heroes!” said the first security guard. “My name is Dennis, and this is Tashia. We’re in charge of security at the stadium.”
“We just finished interviewing the photographer and the saleslady at the souvenir stand,” Tashia said. “The saleslady didn’t have anything to do with it. The photographer simply made friends with her and decided to hide the bat in the store. He was worried we might search his equipment.”
“We’re lucky you were paying attention,” said Dennis. “Otherwise the photographer was going to go back to the souvenir stand, buy the bat, and leave. A private collector offered him lots of money for it.”
“How did he get the bat from the field to the souvenir shop without anyone seeing it?” asked Mrs. Hopkins.
“The photographer had an empty tripod case,” Dennis said. “When everyone was watching Big D help Wally, he slipped the bat into the case. Then he brought it to the souvenir shop the first chance he had. He knew they’d search the photographers’ area and his equipment.”
“He dropped off the tripod case in the pressroom to give him a reason to leave the field,” said Tashia. “We found the stolen bat in the poster tube, where you kids put it. Thank you. And now I think Bobby has a surprise for you.”
Kate and Mike turned back toward the field.
“Hi, guys,” said Bobby. He was standing next to the Red Sox dugout. “I got special permission for you to visit the dugout.”
“Wowee!” said Mike. “They usually don’t let anyone in a dugout after a game!”
Bobby opened a small gate, and Kate and Mike stepped down onto the crunchy red infield dirt. Kate’s mother and the two security officers followed.
“The field looks so much bigger when you’re down here,” Kate said. “I can’t imagine hitting a home run all the way over that wall.”
Kate was right. The field did seem bigger. Mike couldn’t believe he was walking on the same grass that the Red Sox played on. It was like a dream come true.
Bobby led the group into the Red Sox dugout. Used paper cups were strewn all over the floor, and empty water bottles were stacked high in a recycling bin in the corner.
Mike and Kate watched the grounds crew clean up. They didn’t notice that someone else had joined them in the dugout.
“How do you like the view?” asked a voice.
It was Big D!
Mike’s jaw dropped open. Kate stared up at Big D’s huge shoulders and wide smile.
“I hear you kids did something pretty special for me,” Big D said. “That’s why the Boston Red Sox wanted to do something special for you. Both of you.”
He pulled his right hand from behind his back, held out a baseball, and dropped it into Mike’s hand.
It was a brand-new major-league baseball. It looked just like any other major-league baseball, except for one thing.
Mike’s eyes grew wide.
“Hey, this is autographed by all the Red Sox players!” he said. “Thanks, Big D!”
Big D nodded. “You’re welcome. It’s nice to have my bat back,” he said. “Now, I have something for you as well, young lady.” He brought his left hand from behind his back.
In it was Big D’s Green Monster bat!
“I’m afraid that I can’t give you the real one,” said Big D. “But this one is just like it.”
Kate lifted the bat from Big D’s outstretched hands. Mike leaned closer and watched her twirl the bat around. There was a message from Big D written in black marker along the barrel of the bat.
My two favorite MVPs—Mike and Kate. Next time I hit a home run, it’s for you. Big D.
Dugout Notes
Fenway Park
Knuckleballs. The knuckleball pitcher Loopy Lenfield doesn’t exist, but knuckleballs do. They are actually thrown with the pitcher’s fingertips, not his or her knuckles.
The Green Monster. Fenway’s famous left-field wall really is a monster. It’s a thirty-seven-foot-high wall, the tallest in baseball. It has a huge effect on the games at Fenway. Line drives that might be home runs in other baseball parks simply bounce off the Green Monster. But since the wall is close to home plate (310 feet), high, short fly balls that might be caught for an out in other parks can become home runs at Fenway. The Green Monster was originally made of wood. Later it was covered in tin and concrete. Today it’s covered in hard plastic. The wall used to be plastered with advertisements. The ads were painted over in 1947. They were too distracting for hitters.
A second home. Although it’s the oldest major-league ballpark, Fenway Park is actually the second home for the Red Sox. The Red Sox were first known as the Boston Americans. The Boston Americans were one of the original members of the American League in 1901. Before Fenway Park opened in 1912, they played at the Huntington Avenue Grounds. Fenway Park got its name because it’s in the Fenway section of Boston.
A gift from Dad. Charles Taylor was a Civil War veteran and owner of the Boston Globe newspaper. It would be nice to have a dad like him. He bought the Red Sox for his son, John Taylor, in 1904. Charles Taylor picked the name Red Sox in 1907 and changed the uniform to include red stockings in 1908.
Wally. Wally is the Red Sox mascot. He’s a large green monster, like the left-field wall, the Green Monster.
The monster and the cliff. In the beginning, the Green Monster wasn’t alone. From 1912 to 1933, a steep ten-foot hill ran in front of the wall from the left-field foul pole to the old flagpole in center field. That meant playing left field at Fenway Park wasn’t easy. Left fielders often spent most of the game running uphill to catch balls. The Red Sox left fielder Duffy Lewis was so good at playing balls along the hill that the area became known as Duffy’s Cliff. In 1934, a large part of Fenway Park burned, including the Green Monster. When the team rebuilt the stadium, it removed the cliff.
Green Monster seats. In 2003, the Red Sox added new seats on top of the Green Monster.
A large scoreboard. These days, most ballparks have electronic scoreboards. Not Fenway Park. Fenway still has a hand-operated scoreboard. It’s one of the last in the major leagues. During games, people sit inside the wall and post the score with large, three-pound numbers. Each number is sixteen inches square.
Still waiting for a home run. It’s hard to hit a home run over the Green Monster. But it’s even harder to clear the right-field roof. No one has hit a home run over Fenway’s right-field roof yet. It’s just too far away.
Read on for the beginning of
the next Ballpark Mysteries book,
The Pinstripe Ghost
Excerpt from The Pinstripe Ghost
copyright © 2011 by David A. Kelly.
Published by Random House Children’s Books,
a division of Random House, Inc., New York.
Mike Walsh had always wanted to visit Yankee Stadium. But now that he was there, he just wanted to leave.
“When do you think this will be over?” he asked his cousin Kate Hopkins. The two were sitting in the back row of a press conference at the stadium. “I can’t wait to try out that rooftop pool at the hotel!”
“Soon. You know my mom—super sports reporter!” Kate said. She pulled her long brown ponytail through the back of a blue Cooperstown baseball cap. “She always likes to stay until the end and get in one last question.”
“Just like you,” Mike teased.
Kate’s mother was a reporter for the website American Sportz. She and the kids were at Yankee Stadium in New York City for a spring weekend series against the Seattle Mariners. They had driven down Friday morning from their home in upstate New York.
At the front of the room, a team official was talking about the upcoming series. The first Mariners–Yankees game was the next day.
Mike drummed his fingers on the side of his chair. He liked action more than
talk. And press conferences were all talk and no action. But at least it was baseball talk.
The official finished answering a question. “That’s it for today,” he said. “Except for one thing. The famous author Mr. Robert Williams will be here all weekend near the main entrance. He’ll be signing copies of his new book, Ghosts in the Ballpark: A History of Haunted Baseball Stadiums and Supernatural Superstars.”
“What about the ghost of Babe Ruth?” Mrs. Hopkins asked. “Will he show up this weekend?”
Kate turned to Mike, her brown eyes wide. “A ghost?” she asked. “How come Mom didn’t tell us about it?”
“Aunt Laura probably wanted it to be a surprise,” Mike replied. Suddenly, he wasn’t bored at all. “Shh. I want to hear what he says.”
“Ummmm … I—I don’t know,” the man stammered. He mopped his brow and riffled through his papers. Mike thought he looked like he was stalling for time. “Officially, there aren’t any ghosts in Yankee Stadium.”
“Some people are saying that the stadium is haunted,” Mrs. Hopkins added, “because the original Yankee Stadium where Babe Ruth played was torn down and this new one was built.”
A few of the other reporters nodded.
“I talked to some workers. They have heard strange noises,” a reporter with long blond hair put in.
“Oh, noises,” the official said. He waved a hand. “Yankee Stadium is big. You’ll always have some funny noises here and there. But those stories about a ghost are just that—stories.” He gave a nervous laugh.
“So you have no comment about Babe Ruth’s ghost?” Mrs. Hopkins asked. “Or if he’ll be here this weekend?”
“No,” the official said. “Leave the questions about supernatural superstars to Mr. Williams. He’s the expert. We’ll focus on baseball.”
Mike had never heard anything so cool. He leaned toward Kate. “Let’s try to find the ghost!” he said.
The Fenway Foul-up Page 4