Nick went in and shook him. “Wayne! Get up!”
Wayne jerked awake. Nick turned the flashlight away so that the light wouldn’t blind him. “I must’ve fallen asleep,” murmured Wayne.
“I guess you did,” replied Nick. “Your folks are looking for you.”
Wayne flung the blanket aside and followed Nick out of the tent. There was a sound on the porch and Nick saw Mom and Dad standing there.
“He’s here,” said Nick. “He was sleeping in the tent.”
“Gracious!” cried Mom, and clattered down the steps in her slippers. “You’ve given a lot of people quite a scare, Wayne. Why did you do a thing like that and not say anything?”
“I didn’t mean to fall asleep. I just wanted to be here awhile, is all.”
“Your mother and father are dreadfully worried about you.”
“Yeah, I bet.”
Mom frowned. “What?”
“Nothing.”
Mom and Dad looked at each other. Then Mom put an arm around Wayne’s shoulders. “Come on. I’ll drive you home.”
“Good night, Wayne,” said Nick.
“Good night, Nick,” Wayne answered.
15
On Friday, August 5, the Thunderballs played the Zebras. The sky was cloudy and getting darker every minute. A storm was brewing in the west.
The teams played four innings before the rain came and halted everything. Fans scattered out of the park to their cars or whatever shelter they could find. The Thunderballs and the Zebras sought the shelter of their dugouts.
After a while the base and plate umpires got together, discussed the situation, and called off the game. Since it had gone at least four innings, the Thunderballs, leading 7 to 3, were declared the winners.
On August 11 they played the Tornadoes for the third time, not counting the practice game. It was the Tornadoes’ last game of the season. Tomorrow’s game between the Thunderballs and the Stars would be the last for the Thunderballs.
The Tornadoes had beaten the Zebras on Wednesday, leaving them with a record of six wins and five losses. Up till today the Thunderballs’ record was seven wins and three losses. If they beat the Tornadoes today, they would clinch the pennant.
If! A small word, thought Nick. But it meant so much!
From the Tornadoes’ dugout Coach Stevens was watching his star hurler, Lefty Burns, warming up. Now and then he glanced toward the Thunderballs’ bench. Could it be that he was worried?
Nick grinned and looked at Mom. She was in the dugout, writing up the batting order. It was hard to tell whether she was nervous.
After a while the Tornadoes infielders took their practice and then the Thunder-balls took theirs. A few minutes later the ball game began.
The crowd was the largest Nick had seen at the park. He stood by the dugout and watched, hoping to see the Snows. But in the sea of faces it was almost impossible to recognize anyone.
Frankie Morrow, on the mound for the Thunderballs, took his time. The infielders were giving him all the verbal support they could. “Down the groove, Frankie!”
“Breeze it by ‘im, Frankie!”
“Go for it, kid! Let’s get ‘em outa there!”
Frankie toed the rubber, stretched, delivered. A bunt down the third-base line! Pat seemed to be taken by surprise; he started after the ball too late. By the time he got it and pegged to first, the runner was there. The Tornado was given a hit.
“Let’s wake up, boys!” shouted Mom, sitting beside Nick in the dugout. “Keep on your toes!”
Nick looked toward the Tornadoes’ dugout. Just as he thought. . . nearly the entire Tornadoes’ bench was laughing.
“You tell ‘em, Coach!” Bugs Wheeler yelled. “They’ll need it!”
Another bunt! And again toward third! Pat, playing in, fielded it. He started to throw to second, saw that he might not get the runner, then pegged to first. Out!
The next hitter drove a hard grounder to short. Jim fielded it, pegged to first. Two outs!
The next hitter tagged a long one to left center that went for a double, scoring the runner. Frankie struck the next man out.
Jerry Wong was the only one who managed to get a hit in the bottom of the inning. He died on second. The Tornadoes picked up another run when they came to bat.
“A run an inning!” yelled Bugs Wheeler. “That’s enough to beat the Thunderballs!”
“Can’t someone knock a foul ball right square into his big mouth?” muttered Scotty.
Mom laughed. “Let him enjoy himself, Scotty. Our laugh will come. Remember, ‘He who laughs last. . .’”
“’Laughs best,’” finished Scotty.
“Or ‘longest.’”
Wayne led off. He took a called strike, then two balls. Then he leaned into a low pitch and drove it solidly toward deep left field. It kept going . . . going . . . going ... A home run!
The smile on Wayne’s face as he crossed the plate was the first real one Nick had seen in a long time. The guys gripped his hand. The fans cheered and clapped.
“Okay. The ice is broken,” Mom said. “Let’s keep it cracking.”
Russ hit a high one that pierced the sky, then came down only to be caught by the second baseman. Pat beat out a slow grounder to short, bringing up Frankie, who got a loud hand from the fans. Frankie fouled two pitches, then fanned for out number two. Bill laced a double over the second baseman’s head, scoring Pat. Then Jerry flied out. The score was tied at 2 all.
The Tornadoes’ lead-off man tried to bunt the first pitch and missed. He took a ball, then hit a hard grounder back at Frankie. Frankie tossed the ball to first for an easy out. The next batter hit a high foul ball over Wayne’s head. Wayne caught it. A hit and an error put two men on, but Frankie struck out the next man for the third out.
“What happened to that run an inning, Bugsy?” Nick yelled across to the Tornado catcher.
Bugs smiled. “Don’t worry! We’ll pick it up the next time!”
Jim led off in the bottom of the third. A Texas leaguer over short! Then Tom Warren laid into Lefty Burns’s first pitch and drilled it to right center, scoring Jim. Nick, in the coaching box at third, held Tom up at the third-base sack. Mike struck out.
“Another blast, Wayne!” the fans shouted as Wayne came to bat.
He blasted one, a high fly to center field. The fielder stepped back three steps and pulled it in. Tom tagged up, then ran in to score. Russ flied out for the second time. Three away. But they had gone ahead by two runs.
“Okay, Nick,” said Mom. “Take short in place of Jim. Gale, take center field. Scotty, left field. Cyclone, third base. And hold them.”
16
Coach Stevens was standing outside the dugout, his voice booming above those of the crowd. “Come on, Tommy! You’re better than he is! Get on, boy!”
Tommy got on.
Mom shouted to Cyclone at third base to play in on the grass in case of a bunt. But the next hitter didn’t bunt. He laced a pitch between third and short for a single, advancing the runner to second. The third hitter socked a hard grounder to Nick. Nick fumbled it, then retrieved it in time to throw out the man at third. One away. Men on first and second.
Frankie rubbed the ball, then lifted off his cap and wiped his forehead with the sleeve of his jersey. It was a scorching hot day. Clouds lay like tattered strings across the sky. Many of the fans wore sunglasses. Those who didn’t squinted against the sunlight.
Frankie toed the rubber, nodded at the signal from Wayne, then stretched and delivered. The ball breezed in belt-high and the batter swung. The blow was solid. The ball sailed over second, heading for the vacant space between right and center fields. It was good for three bases. The Tornadoes couldn’t knock the man in but they had evened the score, 4 to 4.
Nick didn’t want to look toward the Tornadoes’ bench, but he couldn’t help it. Bugs Wheeler had just said something to Coach Stevens and they were laughing as if it were very funny.
The Thunderballs banged out tw
o hits against Lefty during their turn at bat, but could not score. The Tornadoes came to bat in the top of the fifth and started to hit Frankie all over the lot.
Nick looked at Mom. What was she waiting for? The Tornadoes to get 16 runs off him?
“Mom!” he shouted and turned red as he realized that he must have been heard all over the diamond. Laughter rippled from the fans.
A run scored. A man walked. Another one hit.
“For crying out loud, Mom!” This time he hardly cared.
“Nick! Stop yelling at her like that! She knows what she’s doing!”
The strong voice came from behind him. Nick turned and looked at Gale Matson.
“Yell all you want, Nick,” said Gale. “But not at your mom. You’ll just shake her up. Leave her alone.”
The words sank into Nick and bit a little, made him think. Gale was right. He had no business yelling at Mom like that. She had done a great job coaching all season. Nick realized that he was quite proud of her.
The Tornadoes scored another run, and then Mom took Frankie out and put in Johnny Linn. There were two on and one away. A tough spot for Johnny.
He pitched to the first hitter and struck him out amid loud cheers from the fans. “One more, Johnny!” his teammates yelled. “One more!”
A line drive over short! A run scored! The next man flied out, ending the half-inning. Tornadoes 7 — Thunderballs 4.
“What I hate to see worst of all is the Tornadoes’ winning the pennant again this year,” snorted Scotty as he sat down.
“Don’t give up hope,” advised Mom confidently. “Even if we lose today, we can still win the pennant by winning tomorrow. Pick up a bat and hustle to the plate, Scotty. You’re first hitter.”
“Start it off, Scotty,” said Nick. “I’d like to bat this inning.”
Scotty waited out the pitches, then smashed a single through second base. Mike glanced over his shoulder at Mom, then strode to the plate. Mom must have given him the bunt sign because he laid the first pitch down the third-base line for a perfect bunt. The third baseman was caught flat-footed, but the pitcher fielded the ball and threw Mike out.
Nick stared at Mom. “Aren’t we too far behind to bunt?” he asked. She couldn’t have used her noodle on that play. Teams usually did not bunt when they were three runs behind and there was only one more inning to go.
Mom tapped his knee gently. “Do we have to do the expected all the time?” she said. “Mike hasn’t been hitting. He’s popped up and struck out his first two times up. I was hoping he could have fooled the Tornadoes enough to get on, too.”
Gale, sitting at Nick’s other side, shoved his knee against Nick’s. “What did I tell you? She knows what she’s doing. Just leave her alone.”
Mom laughed. “Why thanks, Gale!” she said.
Wayne, his shoulders wet from perspiration, stepped to the plate. He had homered the first time up and had socked a sacrifice fly the second time. He took a called strike, a ball, another ball, then swung. A grass-cutting grounder through the mound that just missed Lefty’s legs! The hit went for two bases, scoring Scotty.
Russ smashed a single over the second baseman’s head, and the Thunderball fans stood up and cheered as Wayne scored.
“One more run and it’s tied up! Keep the rally going!” shouted Mom.
Cyclone, who had flied out in the fourth inning, flied out again. He seemed so disappointed he shook his head all the way back to the dugout.
“Cheer up, Cyclone,” said Nick. “You’ll have another chance next inning.”
Johnny walked and the head of the lineup was up again — Bill Dakes. He belted a hit over the third-base sack. Russ scored from second. The coach halted Johnny at third. Again the fans went wild. The game was tied up!
“A hit, Gale!” they shouted. “A hit!”
But Gale Matson flied out.
“Just hold them,” pleaded Mom. “Just hold them!”
The Thunderballs held the Tornadoes. One out. Two outs. And then the Tornadoes began to hit. A double. A single. And then a triple — before the Thunderballs could get them out.
“The game isn’t over yet,” said Mom. “Nick, get on.”
Nick led off. Two runs behind, he thought. They needed three to win. Possible, but not probable.
The pitch. He swung. A long, long drive! The ball was reaching for the sky in left field! The crowd was screaming. And then the ball disappeared . . . over the fence!
“The old powerhouse, himself,” Gale said with a smile as Nick came running in. “Too bad there weren’t men on.”
Scotty flied out to left. Mike doubled, Wayne walked. But that was it. Russ fanned and Cyclone flied out again. The Tornadoes took the game 9 to 8.
Now the Tornadoes had a chance at the pennant. They had seven wins and five losses. The Thunderballs had seven wins and four losses with one more game to play. Nick realized that if they lost to the Stars on Friday, the Thunderballs and Tornadoes would be tied and would tangle again in a playoff.
17
A real good game, Coach,” Coach Stevens said to Mom, with that broad, amused smile of his. Nick watched them shake hands.
“At least we gave the fans their money’s worth, didn’t we?” Mom said. Her eyes were sparkling but Nick could tell she wasn’t as happy as she looked. It would have been great to have knocked off the Tornadoes.
“You still have tomorrow’s game to play,” said Coach Stevens. “Naturally, I can’t wish you luck in it.”
“Naturally,” Mom echoed. “For if we win, we also win the pennant. And you wouldn’t want me — someone who’s coaching for the first time in her life — to do that, would you?”
Coach Stevens chuckled. “Well, I’m looking forward to that playoff.”
Dad came up beside them. “All I can say, Coach Vassey, is that you win that game tomorrow, or else.”
Mom beamed up at him. “And all I can say, Mr. Vassey, is let’s wait and see.”
It seemed that all the parents of both teams were attending the Stars-Thunderballs game the next day, Friday, plus most of the people of Flat Rock. Gale Matson’s parents were there. So were Wayne Snow’s. Nick looked twice at the Snows to see if he was right. Yes, they were the Snows, all right. Mr. and Mrs. Snow and Ron. They were sitting halfway up the stands behind the third-base dugout, the dugout which today belonged to the Thunderballs.
The Stars, batting first, could do nothing against Johnny Linn that first inning. A walk, a flyout, and then two singles in succession gave the Thunderballs a one-run lead. Nick, sitting it out until Mom put him in, watched Stinky Morrison carefully. Stinky, the Stars’ left-handed pitcher, had always worried Nick. He wished the Thunderballs would pile up a heap of runs before he went in.
The Stars picked up two in the top of the second as a result of two errors, one by Jim at short and another by first baseman Russ Gray.
“I hope they get that out of their system right now,” Mom said.
The Thunderballs scored a zero at their turn at bat. So did the Stars in the top of the third. Then, in the bottom of the third, the Thunderballs cut loose. Jerry Wong started it with a double. Jim and Tom both got out. But Mike tagged a high pitch for two bases, scoring Jerry. And Wayne blasted a long triple to the left-field fence, scoring Mike.
Nick, coaching at third, looked behind him and saw the Snows clapping and cheering like teenagers. Wayne, at third, looked as sober-faced as if hitting triples were something he did all the time. Russ knocked him in, Pat flied out, and that was the end of the third inning.
The Stars came back as strong as ever. Nick, playing shortstop now, muffed a hot grounder that bounded off at a crazy angle and permitted the hitter to get two bases. Then a home run got the Stars’ fans yelling like a bunch of hyenas.
“Hey, Nick!” Jabber Kane shouted from the third-base coaching box. “Who’s going to coach the Thunderballs next year? Your little sister?”
“This game isn’t over yet, Jabber!” Nick shouted back.
They scored another run before the Thunderballs could stop them. Stars 5-Thunderballs 4.
Johnny led off with a double in the bottom of the fourth. Cyclone, pinch-hitting for Bill, rapped out a single. Pat, now coaching at third, windmilled Johnny home. Then Jerry hit into a double play and Nick struck out.
In the fifth the Stars roared again. This time Gale fumbled a fly ball in left field, letting in a run. It drew a disappointed moan from the crowd, but a sadder one from Gale. Nick could hear him from short. The Stars scored twice more to advance into the lead 8 to 5.
“Hey, you Thunderballs!” cried a voice from the stands. “Why don’t you throw in your gloves and quit now before you get slaughtered?”
Nick and several other guys looked up. Sure enough, it was Bugs Wheeler and five or six other players from the Tornadoes. Not far from them sat Coach Burt Stevens, grinning triumphantly. They clearly had come with hopes of seeing the Stars whip the Thunderballs. Then the Tornadoes and Thunderballs would be tied for the pennant.
It looked as if their hopes were going to come true. Stinky held the Thunderballs to a double in the bottom of the fifth, and no runs.
The Stars started off well again as they came up for the sixth and final inning. Cyclone let a grounder zip through his legs. That was it, though. The Stars couldn’t score.
“One, two, three, Stinky!” yelled Bugs Wheeler.
“Dog!” snorted Nick.
Pat, leading off, flied out. Johnny walked. Cyclone flied out. One more out and the ball game would be over.
Then Jerry singled. They were still alive! “Keep it going, Nick!” Mom shouted.
“Save me a rap, Nick!” Gale Matson pleaded.
Nick looked nervously at Stinky. For some unknown reason he was never able to hit Stinky’s pitches. He was sure that if he swung away he’d strike out, just as he had done the last time. And that would be it. The ball game would be over, and Bugs Wheeler, Coach Stevens, and the rest of the Tornadoes would never let him live it down. They’d be gloating at the playoff game.
The Year Mom Won the Pennant Page 5