Curveball

by Derek Jeter

  “I am totally old enough,” Sharlee said, half-insulted that Grandma would think anything else. “Come on, I’ll show you!”

  After the two of them had gone into the kitchen, Derek let himself stretch out into the half-lying-down position Grandpa always wound up in before dozing off in front of the tube.

  Grandpa opened one eye and saw what Derek was up to. He closed it again, and Derek thought he might have fallen asleep. But then Grandpa said, eyes still closed, “So, your grandma tells me you’ve been out doing some odd jobs, huh?”

  “Uh-huh,” Derek said, sighing.

  “Looks like you tired yourself right out,” said Grandpa, lifting his head to give Derek a careful look-over. “Must have been some job you got yourself.”

  “Just mowing lawns,” Derek said. “And delivering papers. And running after the little kids, and helping Grandma, and—”

  “That’s a lot of jobs,” Grandpa said. “I guess you think you worked pretty hard, huh?”

  “Uh-huh.”

  “That’s good. Hard work never hurt anybody.”

  “I don’t know, Grandpa. It hurts pretty good right now.”

  “Ha!” Grandpa nodded his head. “Well, then maybe I ought not to mention . . .”

  “Mention what?” Derek sat up on the couch. Anything with a note of mystery and surprise to it always got his attention.

  “Oh, nothing. . . . You’re probably not up to it anyway.”

  “Come on, Grandpa! Tell me!” Derek begged.

  Grandpa folded his arms across his stomach and looked at Derek as if he were sizing him up. “Your grandma tells me you’re trying to earn money for Yankees tickets, is that right?”

  “Yes!”

  “Well, I thought I might let you come to work with me one day. Help me out here and there. Earn yourself some more of that money. But if you’re not up to it—”

  “Yes! I want to! Can I, Grandpa? Can I?”

  “I don’t know,” said Grandpa, sitting up and stretching his bones as if they ached even worse than Derek’s. “I’m not sure you can take work that’s really hard.”

  “I can! I can take it!” Derek insisted. Anytime he was challenged, his competitive streak automatically kicked in.

  Grandpa looked at him without saying anything for a long time—maybe ten seconds.

  “Well?” Derek asked.

  Grandpa sighed. “All right, then. I’ve got a couple of things that need doing over at the church that you ought to be able to handle.”

  “Great! When can I come with you?”

  “Well, it’s already too late for you to get up at four thirty tomorrow morning. You’ve got to make sure you get yourself a good night’s sleep the night before, because you’re going to need it. And I’ve got to do roofing Wednesday, so that doesn’t work. Can’t have you going up there. How about Thursday?”

  Derek was thrilled. He couldn’t believe that Grandpa had actually invited him to come to work with him! As far as Derek knew, none of the other kids in the family had ever been invited. He was also glad Grandpa didn’t invite him for Wednesday. That was the day he was going to play ball in the Bronx!

  Although he was honored to be going to work with Grandpa, he was also a little nervous about what he’d meant by “really hard work.” Well, whatever it was, Derek was determined to prove that he could do it.

  • • •

  By Wednesday, Derek felt like a completely different person. His legs, back, and hands had stopped hurting altogether, and his energy had come roaring back.

  He was so excited that he could barely sit still—and if not for the seat belt holding him in place, he would have been bouncing off the insides of Aunt Dorien’s car.

  Was she driving incredibly slowly on purpose? Or was it just that Derek was so eager to get to the Bronx? Either way, this ride was taking forever!

  One thing he did notice for sure—the muscles in his arms were bigger than they’d been the week before. That had to be from pushing lawn mowers around and throwing newspapers onto front porches from a moving bicycle.

  For this occasion he’d put on his favorite Yankees jersey—the pin-striped one with the number 31 on the back, and the name “WINFIELD” arching over the number.

  “There’s the stadium now! The field is over that way!” Derek pointed, directing his aunt to turn at the next intersection. “This is how Grandma went,” he added, in case she didn’t believe him.

  She turned left and drove up to the sandlot field. “Wow, I didn’t even know this was here!” Aunt Dorien said as she drove past. “And where did Grandma park the car?”

  “Keep on going.” It was another couple of blocks to the parking lot, and once they got out, Derek practically raced back toward the ball field—except he had to stop and wait for Aunt Dorien to catch up. She was pretty slow, even for a grown-up.

  The kids were already there, throwing the ball around and shagging flies in the outfield. “You go on and get into the game,” Aunt Dorien told him, giving him a pat on the back. “I’m just going to sit here on this bench and watch, till Uncle Ernie shows up.”

  “Thanks, Aunt Dorien—and thanks for doing this! You’re the best!”

  “Oh, yeah, that’s what they all say,” she said with a laugh. “That’s me, all right.”

  Derek knew she was only joking. But he also knew that everyone did say that about Aunt Dorien. She must have been a great nurse, because she was always doing stuff for other people, just to be nice.

  Grateful, excited, and also unexpectedly nervous, Derek jogged around to the gap in the fence.

  Tiny was hitting balls to the infielders before the game. Derek saw Jumbo out at shortstop make a diving stop on a sharp ground ball. Derek waved, and Jumbo waved back. “Hey, look who’s here, you guys!” Jumbo said.

  “Heeey!” said Tiny, welcoming Derek with a high five. “Glad you decided to come back and play.”

  Some of the other kids gathered around. Derek noticed that not all of them looked friendly. “Who’s this kid? He’s not from around here,” said one, looking Derek over.

  “Besides, where are we gonna put him?” one of the others asked. “We’ve already got enough kids!”

  “Never mind, T-Bone,” Tiny told him. “This guy can play. He’s the one who saved that car from the foul ball last week. Remember?” Turning to the kid who had objected, he said, “Besides, he came all the way from—where?”

  “New Jersey,” Derek said. “Greenwood Lake.”

  “No, not there. That other place you said . . .”

  “Oh. You mean Kalamazoo.”

  “Yeah, that’s it! All the way from Kalamazoo!” Tiny said. “Wherever that is.”

  “Michigan,” Derek told him.

  “And what’s your name again?”

  “Derek. Derek Jeter.” He offered his hand, and Tiny grabbed it and gave it a shake.

  “Now you all just chill,” Tiny told the others. “Derek here can play short center till Yo-yo leaves to babysit his sister. Then he can move to right.”

  Yo-yo? T-Bone? These kids all had such cool nicknames! Derek wondered what, if anything, they’d wind up calling him—if he played well enough to get invited back a second time, that is.

  Chapter Eight

  GETTING INTO THE GAME

  Derek was out in short center field—a strange position, since it doesn’t officially exist in any baseball league. In fact, if these kids had still had a league, he wouldn’t have had this chance. So he was grateful and excited just to be here, short center or not.

  One thing about playing this position, he knew, was that you were going to get a lot of balls hit to you. Any grounder to second or short that got through the infield, you had a chance to make a play on. Any shallow fly ball, to left, right, or center, was in his range.

  He was going to have plenty of chances to impress these kids. All he had to do was not blow it.

  He could tell that this “league” had an unspoken rule—only really good players got to be in the gam
es. It was going to be a challenge to keep up, especially because some of these kids were older, and bigger.

  Jumbo was on his team, at shortstop. So Derek would also have a close-up view of every move he made. And that was important to Derek, because he wasn’t here just to impress these kids. More than anything else, he wanted to improve his own game.

  Tiny was on the opposing team today, catching, as he had been last week. Derek watched as Tiny gathered his team around him. Tiny and Jumbo were the two captains, and both of them were natural leaders. Derek could tell by the way all the other kids hung on every word they said.

  Derek waved to his aunt Dorien, and she gave him a big thumbs-up, then clapped a couple of times and yelled, “Go, Derek!”

  He smiled, though he did feel just a little embarrassed. He was the newest kid there, and the only one with a fan club.

  The game began, with Derek’s team in the field. T-Bone, the other team’s leadoff man, quickly hit an infield single—even though Jumbo nearly caught him at first base with a desperate, off-balance throw.

  Jumbo seemed upset with himself for not playing the ball better, though Derek couldn’t see how anyone else could have even made that play close.

  T-Bone soon stole second, on the pitch that struck out the number-two man. Next up was a tall, thin kid who looked like he could hit a ball right through a brick wall. On the first pitch to him, he cracked a rocket straight at Derek!

  Derek froze for a split second, being unfamiliar with playing this weird position. Then, realizing how hard the ball had been hit, and seeing how it was going to go over his head, he raced backward and timed his leap.

  “Yaaah!” he yelled as he reached out in midair and snagged it. Then he fell into a somersault as he hit the ground. As soon as he came up, he turned and fired the ball to second.

  Jumbo caught it and tagged the runner out before he could get back to the base. Double play! Inning over!

  Derek could hear Aunt Dorien whooping it up from her seat on the bench. His teammates were shouting their surprised congratulations and slapping him on the back with their mitts as they headed back to their side of the diamond.

  “Yo, yo, yo!” said the kid called Yo-yo, giving Derek a double high five. Derek laughed, understanding at once how Yo-yo had gotten his nickname.

  “Nice play, kid,” said Jumbo, giving him a little nod. “What’d you say your name was again?”

  “Derek.”

  “Well, Derek, that was some play. That’s two now. I guess you can play the field some. But I don’t know if you can hit. So I’m going to bat you tenth for today, all right? I don’t want anybody getting upset about the new kid taking his spot. You’ve got to prove yourself first, understand?”

  Derek nodded. Of course he understood. He was the stranger here, and he had to earn everything he got. So he stood in front of the bench and watched as his teammates built momentum, with a leadoff walk followed by a double to left by Jumbo.

  Tiny took off his mask and signaled to the outfielders to shift, because the next hitter was a lefty and, apparently, a pull hitter. The fielders obeyed his signs without question.

  Was it just Tiny’s talent as a ballplayer? Or his size? Or the way he ordered his teammates around? Or was there something else about Tiny that made the other kids respect him?

  With the runners at second and third, the batter up hit a fly ball to center. Both runners tagged up, and the throw came in to home plate just ahead of the first runner.

  Tiny caught it and blocked the plate. As Derek watched in shock, the runner slammed right into Tiny, trying to make him drop the ball!

  Tiny fell over backward, hitting his head on the hard dirt. He lay there, but held up the ball to show that the runner was out. Then, while Tiny was down, Jumbo took advantage of the situation by trying to score all the way from second base!

  Tiny realized what was happening, but it was too late. Jumbo slid, keeping his body on the other side of the plate and reaching out to touch it with his fingertips.

  Tiny reached over to tag him but couldn’t quite reach that far.

  “Safe!” Jumbo yelled, getting up and clapping his hands. “Yeah, baby!” He spat a few times on the dirt. Derek wondered if that was Jumbo’s answer to Tiny’s giving him a hard time about spitting last week.

  Seeing that Tiny was still down on the ground, Derek bent over and helped him get up. “You okay?” he asked.

  “Yeah, man. Thanks.” Tiny shook his head a few times, took a few deep breaths, and put the mask back on. “That’s two outs,” he called to his fielders. “Let’s go!”

  “What’d you help him up for, man?” Jumbo asked Derek afterward. He spat again, twice. “He’s on their team.”

  Again Derek didn’t know what to say. He’d never have thought about not helping somebody up who might be hurt—even if they were on the other team.

  Tiny’s team, inspired by his toughness and grit, shut Jumbo and Derek’s team down after that.

  In the third inning Jumbo made two run-saving catches to keep the score 1–0. One catch was so amazing that Derek determined to try and perfect it himself, by practicing it back in New Jersey.

  The ball in question was hit to Jumbo’s right. He had to go a long way at full speed to grab it, and Derek thought he had no chance to throw the runner out at first.

  But somehow Jumbo had leapt into the air and twisted his body around at the same time, allowing him to get off a good strong throw without having to come to a complete stop and brace his back foot before he threw.

  Jumbo’s other great play was even more amazing. It was a foul fly ball up the third-base line. Jumbo started out a mile away from it, but he went full speed from the get-go, ran straight for the chain-link fence, leapt two feet into the air, and snagged the ball. His momentum carried him right up the fence, so that he was hanging on to it like a monkey with one hand—but he held out the other with the ball in his mitt to show that he’d made the catch for the third out of the inning!

  Wow! thought Derek. He’d never seen anybody go after a foul ball like that. But even though he was amazed, he knew that he too cared that much about winning.

  One day, he said to himself, I’m going to make a play like that.

  Finally, in the bottom of the third, Derek came to bat for the first time, with a man out and nobody on base. He’d been watching the opposing pitcher for two innings now, and he’d studied the kid’s speed, the movement of his pitches, and the kinds of pitches he liked to throw. Derek knew that he featured a sizzling fastball and a slow, devastating curveball that dived straight down.

  But Derek had also noticed that the pitcher seemed to make a scary face every time he threw the curve. Derek guessed it was to make the hitters think a fastball was coming, and so fake them out.

  He decided to wait for the scary face, then wallop the curveball. He let two fastballs go by, both for strikes. He sure hoped the pitcher would throw him a curve in this at bat, because it was going to be hard for Derek to make solid contact with that fastball. It was faster than any he’d ever faced in Little League.

  Derek fouled off two more heaters before the pitcher finally made his scary face. Derek held back for a split second, then swung for the opposite field. He hit the ball solidly between the first and second basemen, and then he took off like a shot.

  The ball had so much backspin that it skidded right past the right fielder, who had been playing shallow, underestimating Derek’s hitting ability. Derek never broke stride but kept on going, shooting for second!

  And when he saw the throw was coming into second way too late, he just kept on going, heading for third!

  When the second baseman realized what Derek was up to, he wheeled and rushed his throw to third. It sailed over the third baseman’s head and bounced off the chain-link fence into left field.

  Derek, who’d slid into third, got right back up and alertly headed home, and scored easily!

  His teammates whooped and hollered and shook the chain-link fence as ha
rd as they could. No wonder it’s all bent out of shape, thought Derek as he received their high fives and back slaps.

  He looked over to wave to Aunt Dorien but saw that Uncle Ernie had arrived and taken her place. Ernie pointed at Derek, as if to say, Attaboy! Derek smiled and tipped his Yankees cap.

  “So listen here,” said Jumbo, coming up to him as the next hitter was busy striking out. “What position do you usually play?”

  “Uh . . . short,” said Derek, not sure if he’d made a mistake in revealing the truth.

  “Hah!” Jumbo replied with a little laugh. “That’s funny. Well, I guess you and I are going to be on opposite sides from now on, huh?”

  Derek couldn’t believe it! Not only was Jumbo telling him he was welcome to come back again next time, but he was also saying that Derek would get to play shortstop!

  The rest of the game flew by in a blur. Derek was floating on a cloud, and playing with confidence. He singled, stole a base (although he didn’t score), and made a couple of easy catches after taking over for Yo-yo in right field.

  The score stayed 2–0, and that was how the game ended, on another incredible play by Jumbo.

  With two out and men on first and third, the hitter made solid contact with a fastball. The ball was hit straight up the middle, almost directly over second base. Jumbo, who had been playing over toward third, had an incredibly long way to go to get anywhere near it.

  Derek, in right field, had been prepared to back up the play and make sure the ball didn’t get away, allowing the runner at first to scoot over to third. But there was no doubt in his mind that it was at least a single and that a run would score. That would cut the lead in half and leave men at first and second as the tying and winning runs, with the cleanup hitter coming to bat.

  But none of that actually happened. Somehow, some way, Jumbo managed to get to the ball, diving headlong. Then he flipped the ball behind him, straight out of his mitt, to the second baseman for the force out.

  Game over!

  The team went wild, all of them surrounding Jumbo, their captain and hero. Derek cheered too. Jumbo was exactly the kind of player Derek wanted to be. He was a real role model.